TAELYN

No matter what we do, it’ll be dangerous, but I trust Balthorne’s decision.

Besides, I am fatigued, and I’m not sure I have any more reserves for traveling overnight. The information about my ancestry that the Mage gave me continues to weigh heavily in my heart, as does my hopelessness at the so-called ‘fix’ to save the kingdom.

Men are dead, and it was my decision to come out here. I’m returning with what feels like nothing, and they’ve sacrificed their lives, and for what? I feel like going back to the Mage and grabbing them by their bony shoulders and shaking another answer out of them.

We gather our horses. Several have run off into the moorland, taking our supplies with them. I hate the thought of leaving them out there to fend for themselves, but it’s too dangerous to try to catch them.

We can’t take the remains of any of the men with us either.

While I’d prefer to give them a proper burial, no one wants to ride along with the headless remains of one of the men slung across the back of their horse.

The other men’s bodies are gone, probably meals for whatever other monsters live in this forsaken place.

We ride a short distance in silence, until we’re far enough away to no longer be able to see the remains of the monster, or smell it, either. I’m terrified to still be out here, but what can we do?

We erect the tents, with mine in the center of what remains of the men.

I don’t want to be alone, but I also don’t want to give voice to my fears.

Both Balthorne and Ruarok have agreed to take turns on watch, and the guards will also join them, but after witnessing what just one of those beasts is capable of, I fear it’s not enough.

I think back to the previous night, how all I’d really been worried about was the cold. The sheer depth of my naivety hits me again. I don’t want to doubt myself, but after the news the Mage delivered, how can I not? I’m not the person I’d believed myself to be.

I’m exhausted, but I know I won’t sleep. I doubt anyone else will either. We’re all just lying awake, our ears straining for the presence of any of the beast’s friends, and waiting for daylight to arrive.

The moment the first few faint shafts of sunlight breach the horizon, we pack up once more and get back on the road.

We’ve made it through the night, and that’s what I need to be thankful for, but my heart is still heavy.

By the afternoon, we return to the city. We’re welcomed like warriors returning from war, with the streets lined with people cheering and waving flags containing the dragonfly emblem with its deadly sting in the tail.

I feel like a failure. I don’t deserve their cheers. Men are dead, and what have I achieved? Nothing. We’re no closer to learning how to stop the rot than we were before we left.

Still, I turn over the Mage’s words.

A love sacrifice? Who could that be? I loved my mother and even the king, but they are both dead. I love Skylar, and Balthorne, too, in a completely platonic way, but I will never sacrifice them. Not even for the kingdom.

I gaze across the city, toward my home. The castle looks strange at the top of the hill, and for a split second, I forget why. Then it hits me that the tower is no longer standing. I’d forgotten, if only for a moment.

We reach the castle and ride into the courtyard.

I’m weary from the long journey and from staying awake all night.

Every muscle in my body aches from either lying on the cold, hard ground, or from spending hours on horseback.

I probably haven’t eaten enough either, but I hadn’t been able to find much of an appetite.

Every time the possibility of food was raised, I pictured that man with his head torn off, and my stomach turned over.

I dismount, give my horse a couple of strokes, and thank her for her service, and then hand the reins over to the stable hand.

The mare has earned her rest, too. I think of the poor horses we left out there and close my eyes to stop myself bursting into tears in front of everyone.

I know they’re only animals, but I hate to think of them lost and afraid.

I want to tell myself they’ll find their own way back to the borders of Askos and reach safety, but they’ve most likely become meals for those creatures by now.

Balthorne stops beside me. “You should rest now, Princess. You must be tired.”

I shake my head. “There’s something I need to do.”

“If you mean informing the dead men’s families of their deaths, that is my job. I am head of the guards. They were my men.”

It wasn’t what I meant, but I place my hand on his arm. “Thank you, Balthorne. Make sure their families know we will take care of them.”

He ducks his head. “Of course.”

Balthorne walks away, and Ruarok takes his place. I’ve noticed the two men seem more comfortable in each other’s company since they slayed that monster together. Isn’t it strange, the things men bond over?

“Do you want company?” he asks.

“No. I need to be alone.”

So much time alone. Is that what I’m destined to be?

I walk through the grounds of the castle, around the side of the building, to where the King’s Tower once stood.

Now there is only a gaping hole, and I can’t even see the bottom.

My mother’s body is somewhere down there, and it breaks my heart that I won’t be able to give her a proper burial.

I’d asked Ruarok to help organize a service, but since he’s been with us in the wildlands these last few days, I assume no progress has been made.

When will I break the news to my people that the mission failed? Not because we were unable to find the Mage, but because I’m unable to do what was requested of me?

I force myself to the edge of the hole, getting as close as possible to where the ground gives way and falls into darkness.

Earth at the sides shifts, dirt dribbling into the nothingness, and stones and rocks bouncing hollowly into the void.

Though I’m at ground-level, the drop only inches from my feet makes me feel as though I’m standing at a great height, and the acrophobia sends tiny pinpricks of pain up through the soles of my feet and leaves me weak at the knees.

The feeling I’m getting here is similar to the one I experience when I’m with Ruarok.

It’s dangerous and I know I shouldn’t be here, but I still can’t seem to bring myself to step away.

It would be so easy, just to take those couple of steps forward, and plummet down to join my mother and the king.

All the sadness and fear and crushing responsibility would be over.

Who would even miss me? I’m sure Skylar and Balthorne would, but they’d get on with their lives, and Ruarok would probably be delighted if he was left to take on the kingdom.

It occurs to me that I could allow my stepbrother to take over. What’s stopping me from doing exactly that? Would he be a better ruler?

The problem with my stepbrother is that all Ruarok thinks about is Ruarok.

The decisions he’d make wouldn’t be made because it would benefit the kingdom and the people who live here, but because they benefit him.

He showed that much when he protested me giving out the castle’s coin to those in need.

Maybe he’d made out like he was objecting because he was worried about the people, but I could tell the truth from his first reaction.

Deep down, I’m always going to be concerned there was a word of truth in the reason the king had Ruarok locked away for all that time.

Had he really been considering killing me and my mother back then?

The thought both hurts and angers me. I don’t want to believe it, but why else would the king go to such extreme lengths to rid himself of his only son?

The ground shifts again, and I let out a little cry and stumble back. My wings vibrate and lift me into the air. I wish they were strong enough to allow me to fly properly. Then I could fly down into the pit and perhaps learn where it ends, and what happened to my mother and the king.

But my wings aren’t strong enough for anything more than a few seconds of flight, and my feet touch solid ground again.

I don’t want to die. I know that now. Life may not be easy, but it’s all we have. Besides, my people need me. I might not be who I’d thought I was, and I might be a Fae princess with barely any magic, but I need to trust my heart and stay strong.