Page 31 of Disillusioned (A Lay of Ruinous Reign #2)

Suddenly, Garin’s fingers slid under her, hands prying between her rigid body and the ground.

She exhaled, bracing herself as she rolled against Garin’s chest, the pain excruciating.

This was not a torment she could ignore.

She breathed through a whimper, tears leaking from her eyes.

She wished for it to be over and remain in his arms, cradled like this.

Despite Adelaide’s protests, Garin lifted her carefully, and Lilac rose until she could tell he was standing.

“ Garin ,” Adelaide said in warning.

“Not harmed?” His anger was palpable, she could feel it radiating off him. “Her spine is broken. You killed our warlock and coachman.”

“Only your warlock. The driver still lives,” said Na. “As does your precious queen. It did not escape us that you had a tracking spell of your very own. Why were you seeking us in the first place?”

He answered with some effort. “There is a chest you carry. Kestrel, of the Court of the Valley, wanted her to retrieve it from you.”

There was a noise of recognition. The guài said nothing when there were footsteps, the sound of someone walking away.

“I’ll do it,” Garin called out disbelievingly. “Heal her spine. I’ll do the rest. Just tell me what I owe you.”

The creaking and slamming of a wooden door—that of their carriage.

Na, who’d lingered behind, suddenly giggled. “My, my. Fate is a fickle thing, isn’t it?”

“This is not her fate,” Garin snapped. “Not as long as I’m alive.”

Feiyan returned, her footsteps heavier. Something large clunked with each one, the sounds of wood against metal. “This is for you.” She set the item down with a grunt.

Lilac’s heart fluttered. The chest.

“What’s in it?” asked Adelaide.

“We weren’t told.”

“What do you want for it?”

“It’s yours. The vampire’s, I mean,” Feiyan said.

“Bring it to your faerie king in good faith. Normally, I would charge a string or two of copper coins for something that does…nothing. But your servant’s life is collateral.

And it doesn’t surprise me Kestrel wants it back.

What would that faerie like more than a gift that was supposed to go to someone else? ”

Even with her mind clouded by the rush of adrenaline, something didn’t seem right. They were giving the chest to them for free? With nothing in exchange? Garin and Adelaide were speechless, but if they felt the same suspicion they didn’t dare express it.

There were sudden hands on Lilac’s chest, and Garin lurched back. “Take your hands off?—”

“Silence, vampire.” Feiyan’s soft demand sounded just as lethal.

“Lay her back down,” Adelaide urged.

“Yes, place her against the earth.”

Garin bent his knees and gently did as he was told. The guài bent with him, her hands in contact with her abdomen. Without any warning, Lilac’s body suddenly went cold—frigid, as if she laid in a tundra—then warm, her skin tingling. Then, Feiyan’s nails dug into her, pressing her ribcage together.

Lilac let out a bloodcurdling scream and felt herself seize involuntarily. Movement. Her shoulders jerked up toward her ears, and she breathed through the unimaginable searing pain flooding her chest.

“There we go. Roll her over,” Adelaide directed, and Garin’s hands pivoted her body onto its side.

Lilac coughed, bile and vomit shooting up from her esophagus into her nose. Garin began rubbing her back, patting it while she emptied her stomach.

“Consider it a favor,” said Feiyan.

“And this,” Na added.

Behind her was an enormous creaking and scraping of wood.

Muted golden light flooded her vision, and Lilac blinked against it. Everything was hazy, as if she observed the scene from underwater. There was Lorietta’s bread basket demolished in the dirt, and beside that, a bloodied pale foot peeked out from worn robes. Emrys .

Large hands gripped her and ripped her toward the surface. Toward the light.

She started to struggle, but Garin refused to put her down. “You’re weak. You’ll need to rest.”

She itched to reach up, to brush the hair from his forehead and put her lips to it. He looked pained, like he ached to do the same. But she pushed and eventually he gave in, setting her down gently. Her legs were shaky, her thighs feeling like she’d trekked leagues, dark spots marring her vision.

Once she supported herself, she was instantly dizzy. Lilac looked down and saw her neat, clean kirtle and leathers from Garin. Her glamor was gone.

Their carriage was also upright, their horses grazing the tall grass off to the side.

Adelaide stood behind her, hovering over two bodies. Two men, Emrys and Giles, lay side by side.

Giles looked like he’d rolled. There was dirt and debris in his hair, his eyes softly shut, chest almost imperceptibly rising and falling. Emrys laid on his side, tangled in his own beard, a red glowing arrow buried in his chest.

Adelaide offered a despondent smile, her face streaked in grime and tears. She was dragging a large wooden chest—Kestrel’s—to the back of their carriage. Those women, their large creature and the market, were nowhere to be found.

Lilac opened her mouth to ask, but a startling cry escaped instead. “What happened?” she sobbed, turning away from Giles and Emrys, feeling like she might collapse.

Garin reached for her again, but his head snapped up and locked on something just before there was a faint rustling behind their carriage.

“ Salvēte ,” came a voice.

A man in traveler's robes limped toward them. He couldn’t have been more than thirty with dark brown hair, a thick mustache, and a trained smile despite his appearance. Burgundy soaked the side of his fine pant leg, and half of his face was blooming with bruises.

Nobility or a diplomat—or both—she could tell by his clothing and the Latin in which he greeted them suspiciously.

“Salve,” Lilac said. “ Bona dies .”

He paused, his brows rising. “You speak Latin?”

“Were you not the one who greeted her first?” Garin said, in perfect Latin. “It is the lingua franca in our region.”

Lilac reddened as Garin glared at him, immediately understanding the man’s questioning.

Responding to him had been second nature, but in her kingdom, commoners only understood so much as was recited in the church.

“He is my guard and a man of God,” Lilac reassured the man, blinking rapidly and making an effort to stop herself from swaying in the wind.

He raised his hand, and in it was a thin, leather-bound stack of papers. A large leather satchel hung from his shoulder.

“I was hoping you’d be able to point me in the direction to…

Pem-pont .” He stopped when he reached the end of their unscathed carriage and turned to look at it, scratching his head as he surveyed the gruesome scene before him.

As his gaze fell upon Adelaide, who had begun to drag the body of Emrys by the feet toward the back door of their carriage.

The man swayed a bit too, pausing to steady himself.

“Shit, what a mess. I was reading my map and all of the sudden, I toppled off my horse. I don’t know what hit me. ”

“Who are you?” Lilac approached him, ignoring and walking away from Garin’s strangled warning. He looked important.

The man puffed his chest, evidently proud she’d asked. He pulled one of the loose scrolls from his satchel and unfurled it for her to see. Intrigue won out over annoyance that he couldn’t just tell her, and Lilac walked up to him to read from his parchment.

Order from the Holy Roman Empire was all she was able to glean before he chuckled and tucked it away again, as if he weren’t supposed to show anyone but was proud of doing such a naughty thing.

“You’re an emissary.”

“Yes,” he said as she stepped back, reeling. He looked her over once and said, “Women don’t wear belts or blades where I’m from, but”—his eyes roved hungrily over her hips—“I certainly think they should start.”

“State your business.” Her voice and gaze instantly hardened into the suspicion she couldn’t hide, but he seemed to enjoy the attention.

He leaned in. “I would love to see you when I’ve concluded my errands, but it might take a couple of weeks.” He was the kind of man she might have thought mildly handsome if she’d never met Garin.

“She asked you what your business is,” Garin said, and she could sense him nearing behind her.

The man’s eyes darted beyond her right shoulder, and his smile fell. She didn’t bother turning to see what look Garin was giving him.

“I—I really shouldn’t say.” He winked at her.

“But maybe you could point me to the nearest inn. You and your troupe are welcome to join me. Maybe after you’ve taken care of this…

” He trailed off, perhaps for the first time realizing he stared at what might be the bodies of two men, marks in the road, and the debris of a crash site. “Was there another carriage here?”

Lilac stepped closer, ignoring Garin’s low growl. “You seem like a fine diplomat. If you’re headed for the Chateau de Trécesson, I’m afraid you’re traveling in the opposite direction.”

“Well,” he said, blinking through his air of offense, “I know the emperor wanted me to depart in two days, but I insisted on giving myself extra time. I heard of a fine clothier in town, and I?—”

“ Emperor? ” Lilac, Garin, and Adelaide spoke in unison.

“I should not have spoken.” He turned on his heel but Lilac chased him down, quickly catching up with his brisk walk.

Behind their carriage, the dirt path was disturbed, hoof marks and splatters of blood everywhere—but no horse to be found.

Her mind raced, desperately grasping at an alibi—lest she snatch him and jostle the truth out of him. “I ask because I am the daughter of the royal cartographer, and we were headed in that direction.”

At this, the man slowed. “ You are the daughter of the queen’s cartographer?” He did not hide his excitement well at all. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

“My father sent us to town for more parchment,” she lied.