Chapter 5
Out of the Frying Pan…
Getting transmigrated to a new world of my creation was turning out to be a real pain in the ass.
Literally.
We rode for what felt like hours in the growing darkness. I could barely see anything ahead of us as trees thick with leaves blocked the moonlight. All I could do was cling to the horse and pray I wouldn’t fall off. My ass and thighs cried and complained the entire ride. I was not cut out for life in the saddle.
Yes, I had this sexy new body, and I probably made an impressive figure on the back of my stolen horse, but I couldn’t get past the pain.
When the sadist leading us away from Misty Pass declared we’d ridden far enough and called a halt, I poured off the horse rather than gracefully dismounting.
“How?” I moaned, bent over and rubbing my ass and thighs.
“What?”
“How do you get used to this? My ass is killing me.”
There was a noise. It was soft. Almost imperceptible, but I caught it.
My hand shot up, and I pointed one finger at Nylian. “Fuck no,” I snarled at him.
“What?”
“That. As much as I would love to crack that stone face of yours and make you laugh, you may not laugh now. No snickers. Not even a chortle. Do you hear me? No laughing at my ass-misery.”
There was a long pause before Nylian made a noise and asked in a very serious voice, “Would you like me to rub your ass?”
“Fuck off.”
The elf didn’t react to that, and I straightened, glancing around the small clearing Nylian had chosen for our rest. Thanks to the oppressive darkness, I couldn’t tell if we were still close to the road or if he’d led us away for our own safety. Not that I expected those hoodlums from the tavern to follow us. That was too much work, and they’d been looking for an easy target.
“The more time you spend in the saddle, the more the pain eases,” Nylian murmured. He turned his head and raised one eyebrow in my direction. “One would think you’ve spent several years in the saddle.”
“Shut up.”
Yes, I know. So witty. But I was tired, cold, and my ass hurt. Apparently, when I’d transmigrated into this new body, my old ass had come with me.
After securing the horses for the night and pulling the gear off them, we set about gathering up some firewood. Without even being told, the elf explained the proper way to make a fire. I watched closely, following his instructions for feeding the fledgling flame kindling and blowing on it as the smoke curled toward the sky. He didn’t ask any more questions, which I hoped meant he thought I was some useless noble who always had servants doing things for him.
“So…you’re a bard,” Nylian stated after the fire was crackling and we settled on the ground, resting against our saddles. I’d pulled my cloak close as the chill in the air nipped at me.
“Ha! Not even.” A cackle broke from my throat, and I grinned at the dancing flames. “My mom made me take piano lessons, hoping it would make me more cultured. I kept up with it to impress women.” The words were out of my mouth before I even thought about what I was saying.
“You’re getting your memory back?”
I shrugged one shoulder while cursing my loose tongue. “Bits and pieces. When I was playing the piano, I recalled my mother harassing me about lessons.”
“You’re good.”
“You’re being too generous, but I’ll take it.” I shifted my eyes away from the campfire to the elf, who was sitting with his long legs crossed at the ankles. Despite the desperate race through the darkness and the chilly night air, he seemed perfectly at ease, nary a blond hair out of place. Shadows played across the sharp features of his face, alternating between creating a villain and a god.
“It was a good distraction,” he admitted.
“That I will agree with.” I chuckled as I pulled my gaze away from him to peer into the blackness that lay beyond our campsite. “I figured the two of us had little shot of taking on that many guys at once, and I wasn’t in the mood to get beat up. It’s been such a long day. Why not distract the entire tavern and give you the opening to escape?”
“Smart.”
Planting my hands in the grass, I pushed up into a sitting position. “See! That’s why you need me. I’m getting better at horseback riding, and I now know how to start a fire. And I can be your go-to man for distractions! Playing the piano and singing is just the tip of the iceberg for me. I can make a huge scene in a crowd, act like I’m dying, pretend to be someone important. Isn’t it better to escape with your skin intact than to fight your way through everything?”
“Not a bard. A con artist.”
“Hey! Not at all. I have never stolen a single cent from anyone,” I argued in a hard, flat tone. “I’m a survivor. My fighting skills might not be quite what they need to be, but I’m smart enough to know how to get things done. Think of it as acquiring another brain to help you on your journey.”
Nylian lifted his eyes to stare at my face. He didn’t speak, only watched me as if he were trying to peel away all the layers of flesh and bone so he could peer directly into my brain. At last, he whispered, “Why?”
“It’s like I said earlier. You helped me, and I want to return the favor. There’s nothing more complicated to it than that.” I shifted to lean on my elbow toward him and flashed him my most winning grin—not that I was even sure what that looked like on my new face. “But it would be helpful if you could give me a little information on where you’re going and why. I might not remember much, but it seems strange for an elf to be wandering through Edros without other elves. Edros and the elves of Wolfrest don’t have a long history of being friendly.”
There was another long pause that was filled by the snap and crackle of the fire eating its way through the wood we’d gathered. Some night birds called here and there, but mostly, it felt like we were cut off from the rest of the world. Nylian turned his eyes away from me and gazed into the flames. The press of his lips became a stern, unbreakable line and a tiny wrinkle formed between his brows.
“I’ve been framed for the murder of my brother,” Nylian admitted.
“What?” I gasped. I think I did a pretty good impression of surprise. Either way, Nylian didn’t appear to notice me.
“Orian was my twin brother, and I’ve been accused of killing him. My father banished me from home. Now I’m searching for the truth about my brother’s murder.”
With a shove, I sat upright again and frowned at the campfire. “I’m sorry for your loss,” I whispered past a sudden tightness in my throat. This was not what I’d expected to feel. I thought I’d be elated when Nylian trusted me enough with the truth of what he was doing and why, but there had been a tiny tremor in his voice.
How had I overlooked the fact that Nylian had to be in great pain? All his smirking and bravado covered up the pain of losing his twin brother. Unlike with his other royal siblings, Nylian had always been close to Orian. Nearly inseparable. He had been the one person Nylian trusted above all others.
And now he was alone in the world.
Worse, his father had kicked him out of his kingdom, leaving him to fend for himself while word had spread that he was a murderer.
I’d dreamed up this tragic story as a vehicle to launch a twisted story of intrigue, danger, action, and hot sex.
I tried to remind myself that he wasn’t real, that none of this was real, yet my heart still ached for him. I was an only child and couldn’t imagine the pain of losing a sibling. But I’d lost my mother to cancer a few years back, and that was agony enough. At the end of the day, I still had my home and friends.
Nylian had nothing.
It didn’t matter if he wasn’t real. There was no way in hell I was going to let him suffer through this alone. Now that I was here, I was going to help him achieve the very best possible ending. He was going to clear his name, get all the girls, and claim the throne. At the very fucking least, he was going to return home with his head held high.
It was going to be easy. I knew this world, since I’d created it. I could provide him with all the key insights.
Except I’d still been working out the plot when I’d fallen off that bridge, and I didn’t know who killed his brother.
Details. Minor details.
“I’ll help you,” I stated.
“You don’t?—”
“Ah-ah-ah,” I cut him off, waving my hands in his direction. “No arguing or other nonsense. I’m helping. You’re not getting rid of me, because you need my help. I can assist you with navigating all the stuff you’ll need to go through. Plus I’ll be the person you brainstorm new ideas with. It’s not like you’re going to stumble across the actual killer’s memoir titled ‘How I Plotted the Death of Nylian’s Brother.’ I’ll watch your back and help. Provide amazing distractions where necessary.”
Nylian’s lips did that twitch thing as though he were trying to hold in a smile but was losing the battle. “I’m thinking you damaged your brain when you walked into that tree.”
“Probably so, but that doesn’t change what I said. I’m helping you. Now, where are we going next? I’m assuming you weren’t following a lead to Misty Pass.”
The elf hesitated, continuing to watch me. I didn’t expect him to trust me. Not yet, at least. Someone had already screwed the guy over and ruined his life. There was no way in hell he was going to trust some total stranger now.
“I had no plans to stop in Misty Pass. I’d planned to travel around it or simply go through without stopping, but…”
Shoving one hand into my messy hair, I grinned at my new friend. “I forced you to make a pit stop for my faulty memory.”
“My plan was also to leave you there,” Nylian muttered.
I threw my hands out to my sides. “And yet I’m still here.”
“Yes, you are.” Nylian sighed and shook his head. “My current route is to continue north and catch the ferry across the Esham Narrows to Galinaes.”
“You’re going to Galinaes next?” The disbelieving words were out of my mouth before I could catch them, but I couldn’t worry about that. Something was wrong here. He shouldn’t be heading to Galinaes next. He should be going north to the Edros capital of Gushan for some sneaking about. Were we not where I thought we were in this book?
It had been my impression that I’d run into Nylian shortly after he’d been exiled from Wolfrest. His first stop was supposed to be checking out the elf kingdom’s top enemy—the royal family of Edros in Gushan. Along the way, he would pick up a couple of new companions as well as a warrior-lover or two. They were supposed to be added to his harem. After all that, he would travel back south to Riverhold and catch a boat over to the Galinaes royal capital of Ulmenor.
No. No. No.
This was all wrong.
Why had this all gone wrong?
I understood why he’d missed out on snatching up Mercy in Misty Pass, but how could my presence be screwing up the whole part of him in Edros? I’d already written all twenty-six of those freaking chapters. There was a lot of good stuff in there.
But now, with a snap of his elf fingers, it was all gone. What the fuck?
Did he not understand the important layers I’d worked in? The character development? The foreshadowing? Okay, so I wasn’t sure what I was foreshadowing, but it was fucking in there for later!
Now he was down three members of his harem: Mercy, Elsbeth, and…I don’t remember her name, but I’m sure she was important. Shannon! Shannon, the badass bartender who’d had enough of her father’s drinking and had decided to strike out on her own with Nylian.
Fuck, I liked Shannon. Mercy was too sweet—too much of a “Mary Sue” for me, but I’d really liked Shannon.
Plus, what about Keaton, the wily rogue with the heart of gold, who was supposed to become Nylian’s new bestie? Life on the road with Nylian was supposed to reform Keaton and help heal some of his cynicism while he saved Nylian’s life.
Well, apparently Keaton was on his fucking own now.
So were Mercy, Elsbeth, and Shannon.
I’d screwed this story to hell and back with my sudden appearance. That made it even more necessary for me to stay by Nylian’s side. He was missing almost all of his team, the people who rallied to support and protect him through the hard times. The people who made sure that he never lost hope when things were at their darkest.
That all rested on my shoulders now.
“Is there a problem with my plans?”
“What?” My voice cracked, and I forced a smile. “Nope. Not at all. I guess I assumed you had business in Edros, but if you’re headed to Galinaes, the fastest route would be to catch a ferry in Riverhold.”
“If you don’t want to accompany me to Galinaes, I’m fine with you taking the horse to Misty Pass tomorrow morning. You don’t need to stick?—”
“No,” I said, cutting him off. “No more talk of us separating. You need me, and it’s clear that I still need you for some things. We’re sticking together. I want to help you uncover your brother’s killer so you can return home.”
Trust me, I understood what it was like being away from home.
“Lockhart?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re weird,” Nylian murmured with a hint of a smile in his voice.
Stretching my legs out in front of me, I relaxed against the saddle as best I could and folded my hands behind my head. “You know, I might not remember it, but I have this funny feeling that I’ve been hearing that my entire life.”
A noise escaped Nylian that I was willing to bet was a laugh. Maybe a snicker. But it was progress. I opened my mouth to fling another teasing remark in his direction, when the elf jumped to his feet as if marionette strings had pulled him up. My heart leaped into my throat as I watched his sword slide from its sheath.
The same noise reached my ears as I less than gracefully rolled to my feet. Something was moving through the forest, coming closer to us.
Something fucking big, if the snapping of branches was anything to go by.
Trembling fingers grabbed a knife from my waist. It was flat and a dull, matte silver. Just the feel and weight of it said it was a throwing knife. I wouldn’t want to try any close-quarters combat with this thing. Of course, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d thrown anything when my life had depended on accuracy. Could I even hit my target?
“The assholes from the inn?” I whispered.
Nylian gave the tiniest shake of his head, his narrowed gaze locked on the deep black shadows of the forest. “Not likely.”
“Do we try to make a run for it with the horses?”
“Too late. They’ve already circled us.” Even as he spoke, I heard the first rustle of the leaves on the opposite side of the camp. They were all around us now.
“Fuck,” I snarled, turning to face the other direction while trying to avoid looking into the fire. My eyes were still trying to adjust to the darkness after watching the flames for so long. Beyond the nearest trees, it was still all pitch black, as if the forest were gone.
“Keep your head down and when you spot an opening, I want you to run,” Nylian ordered.
For one frantic heartbeat, I considered it. I was a fucking writer. Before today, I’d spent most of my life behind a keyboard or a notebook. I was lucky to have ridden a horse. There was no way in hell I was prepared for the fight that was heading our way.
But I’d promised Nylian I would stick by his side. He needed me. I’d gotten him out of a fight at the inn. Maybe I’d be able to think of something clever for this fight, too.
“No,” I gritted out, praying he couldn’t hear the fear that was saturating every cell of my body. I was sticking with him.
Besides, I’d already fallen off a bridge and “died” today. How much worse could it get?
Ogres. That was how much worse it could get.