Chapter Eight
I had to give Ronan Dunmore credit: He knew his magic. He’d deposited us at the most western point of the kingdom, right near the border of the fae territory.
After blinking away the dark spots from my vision, I nudged Sorsha forward, keeping my eyes peeled for anything unusual on the quiet stretch of the road ahead of us. Caelum rode beside me, his posture relaxed, as though we were out for a leisurely ride through the countryside. And then, of course, he opened his mouth.
“I’ve been reading up on the fae,” Caelum said, his voice carrying its usual smugness. “They’re bound by certain rules—agreements. It’s all about wordplay, riddles, bargains. I’m very good at riddles.”
I scoffed, glancing at him. “You’re basing your entire strategy on what? Books you’ve read? You think the fae will behave exactly as those stories say?”
“They’re not just stories ,” he said in a clipped tone, his brow furrowing. “These are well-documented encounters with the fae. I’ve studied their weaknesses, what they desire, how they negotiate. We should offer something they want in return for information about the magic. We will need to come up with what that something is , though.”
I shook my head. We were less than an hour into this trip, and my patience was already wearing thin. “Books can only tell you so much. You cannot plan things with the fae because they’re not predictable. Whatever bargains you’re thinking of making, they’ll twist it to their advantage in ways you can’t imagine.”
Caelum’s sharp blue eyes flicked toward me. “What would you suggest, then, Miss Blackthorn? With all your experience from one visit.”
I met his stare, not backing down. “Don’t make any promises. Don’t offer them anything you’re not willing to lose. And above all, don’t believe for a second that you can outsmart them.”
He tilted his head, assessing my recommendations. To my surprise, he nodded. “Fair enough. I’ll follow your lead—for now.”
The tension between us didn’t disappear, but something had shifted. I never expected him to concede to anything I said, but here he was, doing it. I guess there was a flicker of intelligence in that golden head of his that his bloated ego hadn’t yet snuffed out.
I hesitated then cleared my throat with another request while I had him pliable. “If that’s the case, maybe we can drop the formalities. This isn’t exactly a council meeting, and we need to be on more equal ground if we’re going to trust each other.”
Plus, saying Your Highness every five minutes was going to push me over the edge.
A flicker of amusement crossed his face. “Oh? I didn’t know you were so eager to have my name on your tongue.”
“Gods, forget it.” I growled as I urged Sorsha forward in a hurry. Never mind the fae being dangerous, I was going to punch the crown prince of Eyre right in his smartarse mouth before night fell.
He caught up with me, spurring his horse to fall in line again next to mine while he stammered out an apology. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I’m usually much better behaved around...when I’m...” He paused, his teasing edge gone. “You may call me Caelum. Really. I’d prefer it.”
I huffed, keeping my attention on the path even though I yearned to watch him grovel. “Fine. Caelum . But save your witty replies for the fae. We’re going to need every bit of it.”
A long silence, but I could feel the grin radiating off him even before he spoke. “So, Eedy. You think I’m witty?”
But before I could talk my way out of answering, I pulled Sorsha to a stop at the changing scenery.
The surrounding trees were getting taller, more gnarled and twisted. I glanced up, noting how the branches interlocked above us, like skeletal fingers forming an arched canopy.
We were closing in on the fae border.
Velarune.
I kept my mind alert as I pressed Sorsha onward once more and took deep, soothing breaths.
Meanwhile, Caelum was a steady presence beside me, his eyes wide and his mouth open in wonder, like a child in a sweet shop.
Gods, help me.
As we reached the border, the air pulsed, and the ground beneath us flickered in an ethereal glow. Jagged ivory stones, like the teeth of a giant, rose from the ground on the boundary line. Ancient runes were carved deep into their sides.
“Last chance to turn back,” I murmured, glancing over at the prince.
“And miss out on the chance to be tricked, drugged, or roped into an eternal bargain?” Caelum offered a wide smile. “I think not.”
Without waiting for my reply, he nudged his horse forward, crossing the glowing line into Velarune. I followed him with a heavy sigh.
Now that we’d crossed over, we were in the fae territory and under their rules. The fae were held by an ancient magical agreement to not venture beyond this line, so all we needed to do was get the information and get back across it.
Easier said than done.
“Keep close and stay alert,” I warned Caelum. “They will not let us go far without some challenge.”
Caelum grinned. “Excellent. I love a good game.”
I shot him a glare. “This isn’t a game,” I hissed. “They could lead us in circles for days if they really want to.”
He raised his eyebrows, still smiling. “Oh, I don’t doubt it. But would that be all that bad? I mean, look at this place—it’s pure magic.”
I had to admit he wasn’t wrong. The magic here thrummed like a living heartbeat, wild and unrestrained. The ground shimmered underfoot with patches of color that seemed to breathe, shifting from green to blue to violet. Glowing veins crawled up the trees and prickly, harsh leaves burst from their branches. I could see why he was fascinated, just as I had once been.
A thick mist began to curl around us then, rising from the ground like a mystical tide. Sorsha whinnied, clearly spooked by the strangeness of it.
“Shhh, girl, it’s okay,” I said, patting her mane while my own heart skipped in worry.
Within moments, it obscured our path entirely, the world narrowing to a few feet in any direction. I strained my eyes, recognizing this as one of the fae’s first tricks from the last time I was here: a mist that disoriented travelers, making them forget which way they’d come. But last time, my father had guided us out of it, and he hadn’t exactly left an instruction manual on how he did it.
“Stay right behind me,” I told Caelum, guiding Sorsha forward. I kept my pace slow and steady. Every few steps, the mist would clear enough to reveal a glimpse of the path ahead, only for it to twist and turn again, leading us back to where we’d started.
I bit back my frustration. This is what the fae wanted. At best, it was meant to get us to leave. At worst, they would lead us to our doom.
“You’ve done this before, right?” Caelum asked. “Because it’s not feeling like it.”
“Once,” I replied, not taking my eyes off the flickering trees. “And I had my father to lead me the last time.”
Caelum hummed softly, as though the twisting paths and shifting trees were amusing instead of maddening. His horse picked its way beside mine, its steps sure, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he truly understood the danger or if he was too curious to care.
“I’m guessing your father kept you on the most boring path,” Caelum remarked with his nose in the air. “Probably avoided anything remotely exciting.”
My jaw clenched. “He was practical. He understood what he was up against.”
“Of course,” Caelum replied. “I just think caution can have its limits. Sometimes, pushing forward can be more fruitful than holding back.”
Without warning, Caelum spurred his horse ahead, disappearing into the mist.
I bit back a screech at his utter stupidity, forcing myself to follow him at a gallop to keep up. Let him think he knew better. The fae would teach him his lesson soon enough.
Ideally, before his arrogance got us both killed.
At last, the mist thinned, and the ground leveled into an open grove where—thank the gods—Caelum and his horse were stationed, waiting for me.
“I found someone to ask for directions,” he called out as I approached, clearly pleased with himself.
At the center of the grove stood a figure: a tall fae, elegant and slender. His eyes glimmered with an unsettling brightness, a blend of gold and icy blue.
I’d be inclined to call him beautiful, but when I noted the sharp tips of his ears, I remembered how deadly that beauty could be.
“Greetings, wanderers,” he drawled playfully, like he was about to tell a joke I wouldn’t find amusing at all. He smiled, his eyes lingering on Caelum, and then on me, sizing us up. “Venturing into realms where humans rarely tread. Is it bravery or foolishness?”
Caelum shifted in his saddle, his posture straightening. I held my breath; I knew enough of fae to recognize a test was coming.
“If you wish to pass through our domain,” the fae continued, “you must answer a question.” His lips curled a little further, his eyes squinting a little deeper.
Caelum leaned forward in his saddle, his eyes wide and eager. “Well, then,” he said, “you have us with bated breath. Give us your best riddle, and let’s see if it’s worth all this fanfare.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and bit the inside of my cheek. Our first encounter, and he was already instigating them. I would not survive the night.
The fae’s smile widened, revealing perfect, sharp teeth. “Ah, a bold one,” he purred. “Very well, princeling. Here is your question: What can you get into that puts you in a tight spot, but if you choose to become it, all will fear what you might plot?”
My pulse quickened. Fae riddles were notoriously tricky, and what would happen if we couldn’t figure it out?
I was about to ask the fae to repeat it one more time, but, to my horror, Caelum was already opening his mouth to answer.
“Trouble, of course,” he replied with a lazy grin.
The fae’s eyes flashed with approval, and he let out a low chuckle, a sound both dark and delighted. “A quick tongue. Well done, princeling.” He inclined his head. “If trouble is what you seek, you’ll find plenty of it beyond these woods.” He stepped back, sweeping an elegant hand toward the path beyond. “Proceed, bold wanderers. The real tricks are yet to come.”
I blinked in surprise, my mind still trying to catch up to what had just happened as we both ushered our horses forward.
Caelum caught my expression, smirking. “What? Did you think I’d be stumped?”
I scoffed, masking my surprise. “It was just...very fast.”
Caelum raised an eyebrow, his grin deepening. “That was a pretty easy one, to be honest. My uncle has a fascination with fae riddles. On occasion, he’d make me answer them before I’d get dinner.”
“And if you didn’t answer correctly?”
“Then I was in quite a sorry—and hungry—spot, wasn’t I?” He laughed, but there was a tightness in his eyes. He was playing this off as a joke, but my instincts told me he’d just revealed a cold truth. I knew he’d stayed with his Uncle Tobias—his father’s brother—most of his life as a ward, but I’d never heard of anything improper going on there.
I turned away, focusing on the path ahead, but I couldn’t shake how off guard he always made me. First, I’d finally admitted to myself that he had more than just a flicker of intelligence. And now a touch of hardship as well?
“Let’s keep moving,” I said, keeping my tone brisk as I prodded Sorsha forward.
He followed, but as we continued down the path, I caught myself staring at the prince next to me, trying to untangle the riddle he seemed to be forming into.
And that answer might be even more dangerous than anything the fae had in store.