Page 109

We spill from the confines. Growling, I hunker my brother over my back. A mangled groan slips from his mouth, his head slumping on my shoulder.

I whisper to him the way Cove whispers to me, except I do so in Faeish.“Éck jef fick. Éck á jef fick núna.”

I have you. I have you now.

Cove’s father insists, “Let me help.”

“He is my brother,” I grit out. “I must do this.”

“For devil’s sake. I see the surplus of muscles, but you’re naked and armed as it is. Give me an occupation.”

“You have done plenty. But sling any part of Cerulean across your shoulders, and your vertebrae will crack like a broken ladder.”

His footfalls halt, then resume trailing me. “Well. If you say so.”

Cerulean’s wings pour on either side of me and scrub across the grass, their volume threatening to bring us down. It takes longer than it should, but I haul him through the underbrush and reach the boundary where the brook bloats into a stream. Then I sink, my jellied knees slamming into the earth.

“My goodness,” the human exclaims. “He’s heavier than a cliff. How in the world—”

“I am a water Fae.”

“I wish that explained everything.”

Muffled voices layer through the forest. Human accents and horse hooves shudder through the foliage.

I hear Cove’s father whirl toward the commotion. “I wasn’t followed. The poachers must be checking on the cage. They’ve been taking shifts guarding it.”

Fuck. I adjust Cerulean more securely onto my back and position myself at the water’s edge. Once I’m submerged, the journey will be easier.

My head swings in the man’s direction. I would like to thank him. I would like to express more than gratitude. But Faeries do no such thing, and anyway, that window of opportunity is shrinking.

“She is well,” I swear. “She is safe.”

The air shifts as he whirls my way, desperation and anger clotting his reply. “Prove it.”

I hesitate. “How?”

“Take me to her,” the mortal demands. “Take me tothem.”

His tone is wrought of steel—firm, unbendable. His request is a debt owed, which I cannot ignore.

Yet if I do this, he will be deposited amid our war. Whereas if I leave him, he will find a way home without incident. I don’t doubt the latter, for he has raised a bold and capable woman. She is like him.

In any event, it is not my decision. It is his.

Her family deserves this. They have earned this.

A battle is looming. If Cove doesn’t see her father before then, she will despair. That notion is unthinkable.

And her father has made his choice. So I make mine.

The mortal voices splinter, amplifying through the night. They have discovered the empty cage. Boots thud into the grass, the commotion spreading across the woods.

“You must inhale as much oxygen as possible,” I prompt the man.

“I’m not as skilled as my daughter,” he concedes. “But she taught me how.”

“And I shall be quick.” I offer my hand. “Do not let go.”