The Golden Prince

by Nikki Jefford

  “Maglen, you’re in my way,” Lark hissed. He sidestepped me. I followed his movements. “I’m going to blast them with fire,” he warned.

  “Mind the horses,” I said.

  Lark actually laughed. My heart was racing too hard to find any trace of humor in the situation.

  Before the males closed in, Lark sent out a warning blast. Flames roared from his fingers, aimed at the riders. The males pulled back on their reins. The male on our right looked like he was in his mid-twenties, the other his thirties. He was unshaven, wild-haired, beady-eyed, and tight-jawed. The younger one pulled out a crossbow and aimed it at Lark. My heart seized at the sight of that arrow pointed at the prince.

  The older one, with curly black hair, glowered at us.

  “Lay down your weapons.”

  Lark and I held tightly to our swords.

  The head of curly dark hair leaned forward. “My companion will shoot you if you don’t put down your arms.” He looked sideways at his friend. “Start with their sword arms.”

  “Wait.” I tossed my sword to the ground.

  Son of a whore! I thought we were in the homestretch. All that trekking through brush and mud only to walk right into the assassins. If I wasn’t so scared for Lark’s safety, I’d be spitting mad. Well, I was in fact furious. I wanted to pull these brutes from their saddles and hack off their hands. My compassion toward creatures didn’t extend to Fae assholes.

  Lark kept hold of his sword. Luckily, the brute’s attention was momentarily averted. He narrowed his eyes on me and demanded, “Who are you?”

  “The stable master at Ashcraw Manor,” Lark answered smoothly. “Isn’t he exquisite? Well, more so when he’s not covered in muck.” I stared at him in utter shock. Lark was lying. Lark could lie! Squaring his shoulders, Lark smirked. “I met Charleston here at Count Ralphio’s masquerade. After returning home, I visited the fine stable master in a dreamscape. Turns out the count hasn’t paid him in months.”

  “Low-down fucking nobles.” The male holding the crossbow spat on the ground.

  I was too stunned to speak or think a coherent thought beyond What in the Sky is happening right now? I’d never witnessed a Fae lying, especially not with such detail and flair. Halfling, I reminded myself. Lark’s elf half must have allowed him to spin tales. I’d never heard so much as a rumor regarding his, or his siblings, ability to lie. He’d guarded his secret well.

  Lark lowered his sword and let it fall to the ground. Moments ago, I would have been relieved. Now, it looked too much like surrender.

  “I offered Charleston a nice stack of coins if he’d meet me on the road and suck me off—an entire purseful to bugger me.”

  It was his vulgarity, not just the lie, that made me suck in a hissing breath. Ever the performer . . . until the very end. This couldn’t be the end. Hang it all, I had to do something. Anything! Think, Crispin. Think! But my mind remained a blank canvas of shock and fear.

  Lark offered the males a smug smile as though they were merely critics he’d snub like all the rest that had come before them.

  “Rotten to the core,” Curly Head said in disgust. “You think you own us. Your thieving family uses our hard-earned coin to feast, drink, and throw yourselves lavish balls. While the citizens of Dahlquist toil, you take what you want. You feed off our desperation.” He sneered down at Lark before turning his attention to me. “You, there, stable master. Take the prince’s coins and head back home. We’ll give this filth what he really deserves. He won’t look so smug after we break his jaw.”

  My anger turned to sick dread. “Don’t hurt him,” I choked out.

  The younger male wrinkled his nose in disgust.

  “Don’t worry, Charleston. You’ll still have your chance with me,” Lark drawled, not sounding in the least bit worried about his safety. The jingle of coins jarred my senses before I saw the small leather pouch he’d drawn from his cloak. He held it up and rattled the coins, grinning like he’d gone insane. “Keep them warm for me. I’ll pay in advance.”

  “You are a piece of work, aren’t you?” Curly Head scoffed.

  Lark turned his attention to him. “How many coins would it take to send you away?”

  “More than you could ever carry,” Curly Head said. “Your family will have to pay us by the trunkload if they ever want to see you again.”

  Lark swung a smile at me. “You see, Charleston. They do not intend to kill me. Go on, take your coins. We’ll conclude our business once my schedule clears up.”

  The younger male grunted.

  I glared at Lark, but he only kept smiling, holding out that damn bag of coins. When he raised his brows, it occurred to me that he wanted me to get close enough to whisper a message. I took cautious steps, in no hurry to grab the coins and leave him. How could he think I would willingly abandon him?

  As I neared, he pulled back his arm holding the coins until the purse was against his chest. I searched his eyes for any indication of a plan. Lark’s expression was unreadable. He showed no outward fear. He stood stiffly, though, his jaw clenched. When I was near enough, he grabbed me and pulled me to him as though to kiss me. His mouth was on mine, moving, but with words for only my ears.

  “Go. So long as you’re safe, I can handle this.”

  “Hey!” Curly Head said. “You’ve had your fun. Let the stable master go.”

  Lark’s forehead pressed against mine. His final words were whispered urgently. “I love you.” Then he pushed me away.

  I stumbled back, clutching a purse of coins I never remembered taking.

  Curly Head looked over his shoulder. “We need to get away from the road.”

  “Walk into the woods,” the younger male instructed Lark. “Don’t try anything funny unless you want an arrow in your back.”

  “Can’t we get breakfast at the nearest inn first? I’m starving.”

  “Shut up and move,” Curly Head said.

  The males walked their horses past me as though I no longer existed. They herded Lark into the woods like a fox they were preparing to hunt.

  My head reeled and my heart pounded in agony, horror, and desperation.

  Lark Elmray did not get to sacrifice himself to save me or, more importantly, tell me he loved me and expect me to walk away.

  When they entered the forest, I still hadn’t moved from my spot. A quick glance at the road and beyond provided no comfort. There was no one around and no villages near enough to run for help. At least they were keeping Lark on foot, for now, which meant they wouldn’t get far. But it still wasn’t enough time. It was all up to me. The prince didn’t always get to play the hero.

  Time for the earl to save the day.

  Lark

  Mud sucked at my boots. Each step through the marsh was like moving through molasses. It was hard not to burst into hysterics. I made it across a bug-infested swamp just to turn around and slog back through.

  My kidnappers rode behind me. The younger of the two kept his crossbow aimed on me. They talked about meeting up with their friends who had ridden south.

  “We’ll get him to the rendezvous point, then wait,” the oldest of my Fae captors said.

  I missed Crispin. But I was so relieved he was safe. Now he knew the secret my brothers, sister, and I had been so careful to guard. We could lie.

  The irony was that we did everything we could not to lie in Faerie so as not to be discovered. Once it got out, there was no going back.

  Now Crispin knew the truth. He also knew I loved him. At least I hoped he did. He’d better not question the sincerity of my words, because it might be the only chance I had to tell him.

  No. I couldn’t think that way. I’d be okay. I’d make it out of this mess. Somehow. Elmrays were always victorious.

  I squared my shoulders and marched onward. We made it through the bog. My cloak was well and truly saturated now, brushing along ferns amidst the clomp of horse hooves behind my back. Sunlight seeped through the canopy overhead. A bird took off from a tree as we
passed. Once they’d made a plan, my captors weren’t very chatty. I kept my mouth shut. Listening. Waiting.

  I led them along the same path Crispin and I had traversed. When they issued no directions, I kept to the same route, leading them back to the scorched clearing.

  Behind me, the horses neighed.

  “What in Faerie happened here?” the eldest of my captors asked. He had dark curly hair and was clearly in charge.

  “Fire?” the younger one asked.

  “Did you do this with your fire magic?” the leader demanded.

  I turned and smirked. “Yeah, I thought, hey, I should send up a smoke signal for kidnappers to come find me.”

  Beady eyes glared at me. “Funny. You won’t be laughing after I dislocate your jaw.”

  “I’m not laughing now.” I glared back at the pit head.

  “Keep moving until we tell you to stop.”

  “I’m tired.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have run off into the woods. Let’s go.”

  “I need to sit down.”

  The horses chose this opportune moment to dance in place, shaking their heads as they whinnied.

  I walked over to the pile of twigs, angling my cloak as I neared the egg to keep it out of view from my captors. I pretended I was lowering myself to the ground for a rest.

  “You can sit when we reach the rendezvous point,” the younger Fae said as I crouched.

  Back turned to the riders, I snatched the egg and pulled it into my cloak. I straightened and sighed. “You’re the ones in charge.”

  “That we are. Now move,” the surly leader snapped.

  Egg clutched beneath my cloak, I shuffled past my captors to resume leading the way south through the forest.

  The horses snorted, then quieted as we left the burnt landscape behind. With the egg nestled in the warmth of my arms and heavy cloak, I walked with careful steps, thinking, “Please don’t hatch. Please don’t hatch.”

  Could a baby basilisk kill me?

  Hmm. First hint of a fissure and I was abandoning the egg. Hopefully, its mommy would come looking for it before that happened. I cradled it in one arm to free up my other as I picked my way over twisted tree roots and jagged rocks.

  As sweat dampened my temples, my mind drifted to a dark place. This kidnapping didn’t motivate me to help the citizens of Dahlquist. The blackguards didn’t like how things were run, so they went after an heir. Bunch of no good, vindictive, Fae-holes.

  Except I couldn’t think that way. As a member of the royal family, it was my duty to be just and fair. I had responsibilities. Sky, Crispin was wearing off on me. He made me want to be a better male—something more than a pompous, prancing prince. It wasn’t about being popular or loved. I couldn’t make everyone in Dahlquist happy, but I could help lighten their burdens. My parents had been willing to help them out before. If I asked them to try again, I was sure they would listen. One failed attempt didn’t mean we should give up altogether. Not everyone would appreciate our efforts, but that didn’t make our cause any less worthwhile.

  “Stop dragging this out,” the leader snapped.

  I bit back a retort. This male and his friends would receive no leniency from me. They’d made a bad choice coming after me. If I hadn’t been able to lie, they probably would have taken Crispin, too.

  My legs ached with exhaustion. My stomach grumbled with hunger. And my eyelids were heavy with fatigue. The ceaseless walking was beginning to make me fade. When my foot caught on a branch and nearly sent me toppling, I blinked fiercely.

  Wake up, Lark, before you crack open this egg on the next stumble!

  An angry hiss rushed through the forest as though summoned by my thoughts. My heart went back to beating, waking me up with each pound against my ribs.

  “What was that?” The head Fae sounded alarmed.

  Ssssssss, came the answering hiss.

  I was almost afraid to look over my shoulder. The horses neighed and pawed at the ground. The younger Fae struggled to rein in his steed while keeping his crossbow aimed at me. He must have understood that the second I was out of his trajectory he would receive a burst of fire in his face.

  Ssssssss. The hiss came louder.

  The horses’ ears flicked back and forth. They jerked their heads, pulling at their reins. The leader clucked his tongue to no avail.

  Seemed like a good time to get rid of the egg. I slipped it out of my cloak into some ferns.

  The sound of the horses squealing was about as alarming as the hissing.

  “Great Mother!” My captor gasped.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Lark

  I turned and saw it, then quickly looked at the ground in case the rumors were true about eye contact. The creature was a monstrosity. It had the head and legs of a rooster. The horrible hissing came from a snake-like tongue that flicked from between the basilisk’s beak. More alarming still, it had a snake’s tail and batlike wings.

  Please don’t tell me this Frankenbird-snake can fly!

  The whoosh of an arrow zipped at the creature from the younger Fae’s crossbow, but his rearing horse made him miss. As soon as the horse landed, the animal took off galloping, taking his yelping rider with him.

  “Whoa! Whoa!” he yelled frantically as they thundered through the trees.

  The head Fae didn’t wait for his horse to take off or toss him. He jumped down and drew his sword. His boots had barely landed on the ground before his horse ran off squealing.

  Gaze still on the ground, I saw the burnt path the basilisk had taken in her rush to come after her egg. Fronds were still curling back on ferns from the trail she’d blazed. It was stunning to see how quickly the vegetation withered in her wake.

  Terrifying.

  Her scaled tail shot out like a whip. The older Fae avoided it, but I was knocked off my feet, landing hard on my back.

  Sss!

  From the corner of my eyes, I saw the beaked head and forked tongue whipping around toward me. I sat up, pushed out my palms, and blasted fire in her direction.

  The creature beat her wings, sending my heat back at me. I curled into my cloak, covering my face.

  Ssssssss. The basilisk’s anger sounded like crackling fire even when the flames went out. I scrambled away, narrowly missing the creature’s strike. I shuddered as the sharp beak pecked the ground where I’d been hovering less than a second before.

  While the basilisk’s attention was on me, the Fae came at it with his sword. Her wings beat, lifting her bony clawed feet off the ground a couple inches before landing to face the Fae coming at her. It appeared she couldn’t outright fly.

  He ran around the creature while she hissed her anger. She wasn’t as quick on her feet, but her tail was like lightning, striking him down. He hit the ground, then jumped back up and swung at the snake tail. It flew out of reach, curling behind the creature.

  I kept my eyes below its head just in case. From the older Fae’s downward gaze, I’d say he was doing the same. Neither of us knew what we were dealing with, and I was beginning to question my decision of luring the beast after us. Would it help if I pointed out her egg?

  Ssssssss.

  Doubtful.

  I didn’t think she could climb, so I scrambled up the nearest tree. The basilisk charged the trunk as I grasped at the bark and hoisted myself toward the nearest branch . . . which didn’t look strong enough to hold me.

  Pitberries!

  I wrapped my arms and legs around the trunk, holding on as though my life depended on it. I knew I looked ridiculous. I felt ridiculous. Well, there was no one to see besides my cursed captor and the hissing bird-serpent. I clenched my jaw. In addition to spiders, I didn’t care for snakes or birds.

  Reed once had a king snake for a pet. I’d been thrilled the day he lost it, and Mom said that if he couldn’t hold on to the first one, he wasn’t getting a replacement.

  And so maybe I’d bribed Ronin with favors to make the slithery thing go away. It’s not as though Reed cou
ld ever get the truth out of us. Liars, remember? Snakes had their place—outdoors! Not in the room next to mine in Pinemist.

  Ssss!

  Yeah, the basilisk didn’t seem pleased with the energy I was putting out.

  The bark turned brittle in my grasp. The trunk creaked. Oh, pitberries. How long would this tree hold up with the basilisk’s toxic breath killing the very roots beneath the soil?

  Something slithered beneath my cloak and wrapped around my legs. My heart felt about ready to climb up my throat and launch right out of my silently screaming lips. As though being lassoed, I was yanked from the tree. Bark broke through the skin on my palms as I tried desperately to hold on. I landed hard enough on the ground to have the air knocked temporarily from my lungs. I stared up at the canopy in a daze before returning to my senses with a jerk of my body. The snake tail squeezed my legs. I sat up and got the back-end view of the basilisk. She and the older Fae were facing off. Well, he was still avoiding her gaze, kicking rocks and dirt at her while swinging his sword.

  The grip around my legs tightened, and this time, I was the one who hissed. I contemplated flaming her scaled end but thought better of it. I didn’t want the beast’s full attention back on me. She lunged at my captor, who jumped out of the way. She hissed and pecked the air, bat wings wafting over the dusty ground. All the while, she kept hold of my legs like she was saving me for later. Guess my abductor was dinner and I was dessert.

  Oh, Sky, could she even fit us between that sharp beak of hers, or would she peck us to death? I struggled to get loose from her tail.

  With a loud hiss, she lunged at the same time as my captor. Sunlight glinted off his blade as he shoved it into the basilisk’s chest. The creature lifted her head and cawed. Her tail coiled tighter around my legs, cutting off circulation. Setting my revulsion aside, I held my hand over the smooth, scaly tail and burned her skin. The tail unraveled, releasing my legs, and lashed out. The agile Fae ducked in time, holding the hilt of his sword still lodged in the creature.