Page 14

M cColl

Nightfall the next day…

The sky starts to turn gray. Soon, there will be a murky light that will filter through an overhead haze, thick with black clouds. There won’t be enough light to speak of today. Not that it matters to us, since we will be asleep soon, anyway.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t get some rest before crossing the bridge?

If we don’t take shelter soon, we’re going to get soaked.

Not to mention that the horses are tired.

” I pat my pony’s neck. He stumbled a little while ago, which isn’t like him.

He’s walking with his head low; the spring left his step a while back.

“Very sure.” Alaric turns his bright green eyes on me.

For a moment, I just look into them. I would blame fatigue, but it isn’t that. He has great eyes, even for a fae. I wish I didn’t notice them, him…but I do.

I shouldn’t be having thoughts like these. Not right now. The first drops of rain start to fall, spattering on my face, so I pull up the hood on my cape. I probably deserve to be soaked with icy rain.

“Here we go,” I mutter.

Alaric does the same with the hood of his oilskin coat, and I’m glad I don’t have to look at his handsome features anymore.

“I could cast a spell to keep us dry,” I suggest.

“No.” Alaric shakes his head. “Save your power for if we really need it. There is risk in crossing that bridge, but once we’re over, we can find a place to rest and get dry.”

“You’re afraid they’re going to wait for us there, aren’t you? Ambush us as we cross.”

“That’s what I would do.” He lifts his brows.

“They must know we’re going to Witch Mountain.

Or at least that you’re going there. They know I’m with you, or more than likely with you, since I rescued you.

That means we have to cross this bridge.

It’s a safe bet. I only hope we have beaten them there. ”

“Me, too. We’ve ridden hard.”

He makes a sound of agreement. I don’t like the tension in his voice. It’s unlike him.

The rain picks up, so I tighten the hood of my cape and urge my horse forward, following Alaric as we make our way toward the bridge.

It pelts down, soaking through any of our clothing that isn’t properly covered.

The bottom of my dress is a sodden mess.

The relentless downpour is making the ground slick beneath our horses’ hooves.

The sound of the rain is loud, drowning out any other noise around us.

It's miserable, but I understand Alaric’s thinking. We need to keep going, regardless.

As we approach the bridge, my heart clenches with fear. The thought of an ambush looms large in my mind, sending a shiver down my spine. I grip the reins of my horse tightly, trying to push away the thoughts of what could be waiting for us on the other side.

Alaric rides ahead, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of trouble. I follow close behind, unable to shake the feeling of unease that settles in the pit of my stomach. Perhaps it’s all the talk of ambush and nothing more. I pray that I am right.

The bridge looms ahead, shrouded in mist and rain. It looks old and weathered, like it could collapse at any moment. Alaric halts, putting his hand up just as I see them.

My heart sinks.

The fae are there. The group looks bigger than before. They’re on the other side of the bridge. We caught them just as they were about to set up the ambush we talked about not long ago. There are too many of them.

I gasp as we swing our horses around to huddle behind a clump of trees and dying bushes. Alaric’s jaw is set, his eyes steely as he scans their ranks, assessing the situation.

“What do we do now?” I whisper, my voice almost inaudible over the heavy rain. “It’ll take us days of travel in the wrong direction to reach the next crossing.”

“By then, they’ll have that ambush set up there, too.” He curses softly under his breath. “I should have anticipated this. We should have ridden day and night and only rested once we were over that bridge.”

“That wouldn’t have been practical.”

“I don’t know what to do. Every path will lead to confrontation.”

“I agree, and that’s why I think we need to cross here. I’ll cast another sleeping spell. It worked well the last time.” I feel sick to my stomach just saying it. What if it doesn’t work? I lift my hands, feeling the power buzzing inside me and fully accessible.

I look at the fast-running river and then downstream at the rapids. If I trusted my power, I would make a bridge of magic to cross in a place of our choosing, but I can’t trust it. If the fae capture us, at least we’ll be alive. If we fall into the churning water, there are no guarantees.

I sigh.

I also acutely remember how my magic failed me before. How it’s failed me many times throughout my life. I can’t think like that now.

Alaric scrubs a wet hand over his even wetter face. “I agree. I think that facing the fae here and now is our only option. We cross the bridge. You cast your spell. By the time they wake up, we’ll be long gone.”

He makes it sound so easy, and it should be.

“We need a fallback plan because you never know.” I hate to say it, but it’s true.

“My grandmother has a saying: ‘Prepare for the worst and hope for the best.’” My heart squeezes thinking about her.

I hope she’s still alive and well. A lot of things can change in three years.

That’s how long it has been since I was taken. Three long years.

Alaric smiles, his eyes turning hazy. “My grandfather used to say exactly the same thing. Perhaps we aren’t as different as you think.”

I disagree. I would argue the point, but this isn’t the time.

“If all else fails and we’re left with no option, I will use my power,” Alaric says. “I doubt very much that it will be needed.” He gives me a tight smile. “Not when we have you.”

I hope I don’t disappoint him.

“So, you suggest that we just ride over the bridge?”

“It was your suggestion first.” He smiles.

“But yes, and when they come at us, you put them to sleep, and we get as much distance between us as possible. It’ll mean pushing the horses, even though they are tired, but I think it’s necessary.

” He shrugs. “You pulled off this spell before; I’m sure you can do it again. ”

“I hope so, Alaric. There are more of them this time. I’ll do my best.” My gut is churning with worry. I wish I were brimming with confidence.

“Let’s go.” He puts his horse into a walk, and I follow. I hate that we have to put ourselves in danger like this, but what else can we do?

I rack my brain but come up blank. This is our only option. I test my magic, and it’s still there.

Good.

Then I say a silent prayer to the moon goddess. May she keep us safe. Then another to Kakara, who cannot forsake us. Not now!

Thankfully, the rain slows to a light drizzle. The ancient wooden bridge is just up ahead.

As we draw nearer, my heart pounds in my chest like a relentless drum. I taste my fear on my tongue. When I see the big, bald brute at the back of the group, I close my eyes for a moment. Arwin will be out for blood when he sees me.

I try not to think about it. I need to have faith in myself.

At first, the fae on the other side of the bridge continue to mill about, clearly not expecting us to be so close.

Their voices carry over the sound of the light rain; Lord Ondine is barking orders.

There are general grumbles about the weather.

Alaric looks back at me; he gives me a nod, a silent signal to be ready.

I nod back. I’m as ready as I will ever be.

I take a deep breath, gathering my magic within me.

The power hums through my veins, ready and waiting.

I can feel the potential of the spell tingling at my fingertips, eager to be released.

We move closer to the bridge, the sound of our horses’ hooves muffled by the wet ground and the steady drizzle.

The fae spot us as we near the bridge. Shouts of alarm ring out, and they scramble to pull their swords in preparation for battle.

I recognize Ren, Japhet, Llayda, and Nyx.

I recognize some of the others from the cave, but Alaric is right, there are more I have never seen before.

They have easily doubled in numbers since my escape.

Most of them mount up, swords raised.

We stop just before the bridge.

“You may as well give up now,” Lord Ondine shouts. “We have been instructed to hunt you to the ends of the realm. Not just our Court, but all the Courts have been enlisted. Running is futile.”

I note that they don’t attempt to come at us. That a few of them are looking at us… No, they’re looking at me with fear in their eyes.

Arwin is glowering. When he catches me looking at him, he snarls, “You will fix me, girl, or face the consequences!”

There are sniggers from some of the others.

“Silence!” Ondine snarls, glaring at Arwin. Everyone pipes down in an instant. Then he turns back to us. “I’m giving you one opportunity to come quietly and without fuss. What say you?”

“We say no,” Alaric says. “We have a counteroffer. We give you one opportunity to allow us to pass freely and to leave without harassment.”

“I’m afraid I cannot accept,” Ondine’s voice booms. “I implore you to—”

I let the magic loose, saying the words of the sleeping spell.

The fae on the other side of the bridge immediately falter, their movements slowing to a crawl.

One by one, they drop their weapons and sway.

Those in the saddle fall to the ground with hard thuds, their horses spooking and running away as they drop.

The fae on their feet collapse just as readily, their legs buckling under them.

Lord Ondine is the last to succumb, his eyes fluttering closed as he falls to his knees and then topples over onto his side with a great sigh.

A wave of relief washes over me. We urge our horses forward, and the ancient wooden planks creak under their hooves. Below, the brackish water rushes and swirls, the currents strong and true. The smell of decay is strong, but I ignore it.

“We need to hurry,” I tell Alaric.

“We need to go slow over the bridge,” he tells me.

I keep the shield spell active as we ride, wary of any potential threats that may still be lurking nearby. Soon, we are picking our way through the downed fae, readying ourselves to gallop away.

A couple of their horses lurk nearby, unsure of what to do with their newfound freedom. The rest are long gone, which should slow the fae down when they finally wake. I’m hoping the spell keeps them under for a good long while.

I am just starting to relax when I feel my back prickle with awareness. I turn, gasping as soon as I see him.

One of the downed fae is standing in the middle of the sleeping men. The hood of his cloak obscures his face.

Cold shivers run up and down my whole body.

Who is he?

How is it that he is awake?

I redouble my efforts, focusing on him. It has no effect.

How?

As if in answer to my silent question, he pulls down the cloak.

He has a tuft of beard on his otherwise clean-shaven face.

His head is clean-shaven, too. That’s when I see them: runes inked into his skin on the tops of his hands and up both sides of his neck.

There are black veins beneath the surface of his pale skin like spider webs.

They are on his head, on the one side of his face, and creeping up the front of his throat.

My blood goes cold, and ice creeps up my spine. I can barely breathe as fear hits me in great waves. I want to run, but I know that would be a mistake.

“Alaric.”

He turns, gasps when he sees the conjurer, and then spins his horse around to face the danger. I do the same.

The conjurer smiles; his eyes are cold and hard. It’s pure evil.

He lifts his hands and sends a blast of magic our way. I do everything in my power to fortify the shield around us, but it doesn’t work. I am nowhere near as powerful as a fae conjurer. We are thrown from our horses, who turn and run away together with the few remaining fae steeds.

Thankfully, due to the mud and moss on the ground, my landing isn’t as hard as it could have been. The air is still knocked from my lungs.

I think we could be in real trouble here. My thinking is confirmed when the downed fae start to rise, one after the other. The sleep spell I cast has been overridden by the conjurer.

“We might just be fucked.” Alaric says under his breath.