by Sam Ledel
Finally, Aurelia spun back around, fed up with his coy attitude. “Drest, this isn’t funny,” she shouted over the thunderous hooves and harsh wind. “I command you tell me where we are going!”
When Drest turned, Aurelia’s stomach dropped.
His eyes were clear as glass, and a sickening smile was etched into his stubbled cheek. His voice matched the maliciousness of his face when he said, “You always did ask too many questions.”
Then his elbow swung back, and there was darkness.
Chapter Fifteen
Aurelia awoke with a pounding headache and an intense throbbing running from her shoulders to her legs, which were numb. She groaned and sputtered, tasting blood and dirt. A blockage of something thick made her choke when she tried to cough, and she quickly realized a rag had been tied around her face, gagging her. She blinked. Her stomach sank at the darkness around her, and she feared she must have been blindfolded. Slowly, though, her eyes adjusted. She wasn’t blindfolded; night had fallen.
Heart racing, Aurelia lifted her sore head from where it had been hanging against her chest. How long had she been unconscious? Her legs were tucked awkwardly beneath her, and they slowly gained sensation after she wriggled on the ground. Damp moss and grass tickled her tightly clenched fingers. She could smell the earth—fresh like wind after rain. Her wrists itched, and she felt a crude rope tied around them. It didn’t take long to realize her hands were bound behind her back.
As her mind cleared, voices drifted over from behind the hundreds of trees surrounding her. I’m in the forest. How did I get here?
Drest.
The memory came back in a jolt, like the feeling of missing a step climbing the tower stairs. Her body lurched, and rage bubbled inside her chest. Drest had done this to her. But why? Why take her away from the castle? Why do this on the day of her brother’s remembrance? Nothing made any sense. She scanned her surroundings, hoping to catch a glimpse of Keller. As she did, the voices came to a halt, and rustling sounded nearby.
A towering, slender figure emerged from the dark pillars of trees. Aurelia pushed herself back against the trunk she sat in front of, fumbling her tied hands over the large roots at its base.
“What kind of royalty cowers from the unknown?” an elven voice sneered. Despite the less-than-kind comment, his voice was lovely. It rose and fell like a lyre being plucked. Another elf with the same gray eyes and nearly iridescent skin that seemed to glow in the moonlight followed the first out from behind a tree. Together, they walked toward her.
“The human kind. Remember: they’re not like us. They hide behind their magic and high walls out of fear, not power. This one is an example of the many weak members of man.”
Aurelia grimaced. She felt afraid but grew angrier with each word the elves spoke. Who do they think they are? And why are they saying such things? She had always believed the elves to be kind, stoic fae. At least, that was what she had read about and what she was taught by her mother and father.
Of course, her mother hadn’t taught her about the Well of Slaine. Perhaps there were some things she believed that weren’t as true as she had originally imagined.
The first elf, wearing a flowing green tunic of light material, rested his forearm on a bow that came up to his chest. “Tell me again why we can’t take her back to our queen.”
“She’s not ours to claim.” The next phrase was spoken in their native tongue, and Aurelia recognized one word from the fae’s mouth: prince.
She tried to yell, but only muffled cries came from behind her gag. She glared at the elves standing a few yards away.
“That riled her up. I’m pleased to know the humans care about their own kin.”
Aurelia fumed, her chest heaving. She felt her entire understanding of the kingdom begin to shift and crumble like the sandcastle she had made on the shore years ago once the tide changed. How could fae like these—arrogant and rude in their demeanor—have ever been allies with their family?
Frustrated, she sank back against the tree. Her mind raced. What had become of Brennus’s body? Had the Elves won the battle back at the castle? Surely her parents and their army had been able to hold their ground. She had to believe her brother was safe. It was all too much, and her head ached terribly. A familiar heavy tread stomped out from behind the same set of trees from which the elves had emerged.
“Ah, you’re awake. Wonderful.”
Drest stood next to the pair of elves. Despite his impressive height and width, the fae were nearly a foot taller than him. He placed one hand on the hilt of his sword before kneeling in front of Aurelia, who locked her gaze on his.
“I do apologize for that blow earlier.” He reached out to brush hair from her face, then ran a hand along her cheekbone. At his touch, Aurelia winced at what was surely a nasty bruise. “But I had to shut you up somehow.”
Aurelia’s jaw clenched, squeezing the rag between her teeth. She tried to work her fingers free from behind her back, but her flame never grew larger than an elderberry before it flickered out again. She was too exhausted; she needed more energy.
“Here, let me help you with this.” Drest pulled the rag from her mouth, letting it fall below her chin. Aurelia gasped, inhaling cool night air. “Water,” Drest ordered. The elves exchanged glances. Then one stepped forward, pulling a flask from behind his back and offering it to Drest. He took it, unscrewed the top, and held the opening up to Aurelia’s lips. She eyed it warily. “It’s not poisoned. Drink.”
Slowly, she tilted her head back and let him feed her the water. She relished the cold liquid as it ran down her throat. She gulped gratefully for a minute, then sat back.
“Good.” Drest capped the flask and tossed it back to the elf, who muttered something to his companion in their native language.
“She’s of no use to us dead,” Drest replied. “Aurelia stays alive until I get what I need.” He cleared his throat when one of the elves stepped forward. “We. Until we get what we need.”
Aurelia stared at him. “I didn’t know you spoke elven.”
Standing, Drest wiped off his hands. “There are many things you don’t know about me, Aurelia.” He rolled his neck to stretch it. “They can speak our tongue, as I imagine you were wondering,” he said quickly, waving a hand at the elves. “Though it’s a stunted, garbled version. But that’s to expect from fae.” The elves’ eyes narrowed at Drest, but they remained silent. Drest, meanwhile, was staring at a spot behind Aurelia’s shoulder, seeming to forget momentarily that she was even there until she spoke again.
Fearing the worst, Aurelia asked, “Keller?”
His eyes still locked on the tree behind her left shoulder, Drest waved his other hand. “Oh, I let her go once we were deep enough in the Wood. I’m sure she can find her way back to the castle.”
Aurelia closed her eyes. Gods, I hope she can.
“My companions prefer to travel by foot. It’s easier.”
“How can you be on their side? Tell me that, at least.” She gestured with her chin toward the elves. “They’re the ones who poisoned my brother! Because of their arrow, the water from the Well of Slaine was useless. They’re to blame.”
“Well,” Drest said, “I am glad you said that. It must mean Dechtire and Grannus believe that, too.”
The buzz of insects and fairies halted. Every sound in the Wood seemed to vanish, caught in a moment’s net as Aurelia’s skin grew hot, and blood surged in her ears.
“You mean—”
Drest only smiled.
“No. It can’t be. I don’t believe it. I won’t!”
“Believe what you want, Aurelia. It’s really none of my concern.”
When he turned to go, she shouted, “I believe that you were my brother’s best friend! You were my friend. You had our trust, our family’s trust. And you betrayed us by leaving Brennus for the elves to claim.”
Even in the dark, Aurelia could see the lightness overtake Drest’s eyes as they went clear. “Wait, Drest,” she said,
knowing what was about to happen. She had seen him use this spell on drunken villagers who heckled him for money in the street. “Where are you taking me? What do you want?” When he didn’t respond, she cried more desperately, “You won’t get away with this.”
But Drest’s smile was wide as the air whipped around them, spinning itself into a tunnel aimed directly at her. Aurelia turned her cheek to shield her face, but it was no use. The wind penetrated her mind and stirred her thoughts until they were a torrent of pain. She cried out until the memories from the last few days overwhelmed her, and she fell unconscious once again.
* * *
Two days after the attack, the Kingdom of Venostes was in shambles. The royal grounds—where not forty-eight hours earlier a jubilant festival celebrating the life of a fallen son had been—lay strewn with broken remnants of a disastrous day. Most of the bodies had been claimed, but a handful of poor souls still lay alone on the lawns, tucked haphazardly along the edges of the Wood. Ash-soaked firepits steamed against fog that had settled over the grounds. Empty casks of wine lay beside half-eaten legs of lamb that now played host to eager ravens picking at the bones.
Not even the four thrones escaped unscathed by the surprise elven invasion. The top corners of the king’s polished, spiked stone were gone, blown off in a fiery showdown. Queen Dechtire’s chair had lost a side of its base. Now the magnificent seat tilted toward her daughter’s, which was scorched black on all sides. The prince’s throne, however, took the most blows from the enemy: its entire back side had crumbled, demolishing the gifts left along its seat and arms so that now the whole thing resembled an obliterated pastry left decayed and abandoned to the elements.
Jastyn had gone each of the days following the tumult to survey the land and help Coran and their neighbors bring home victims of the attack. Coran’s mom had been one of them, suffering a stab wound to her back. Miraculously, there didn’t seem to have been any major damage to her spine. Coran had tended to her first, and Jastyn took turns dressing the wound between the hours they roamed the grounds together.
“I hear Queen Dechtire is openin’ the gates tomorrow so that the injured can come to her for help.” Coran’s voice was optimistic when he said this over a shared chunk of bread Jastyn had gotten from her mother on their way out the door that morning.
“That woman must be some kind of saint,” Jastyn said between chews. Coran eyed her, and she knew he was surprised, considering her feelings for the royal family. She shrugged and added, “It’s a decent thing, to think of others after losing her son.”
“And her daughter.”
Jastyn swallowed another bite. “They don’t know she’s lost for good, Coran. She might have simply…I don’t know…run into the Wood for shelter during the whole thing and…lost her way.”
“Princess Aurelia never did go into the Wood that often.”
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Jastyn said. Though the idea of Aurelia surviving alone in the Wood was hard for her to imagine. If the wild animals and rain-filled nights didn’t get her, there were hundreds of unfriendly fae always looking for something new to get their hands on.
They finished their food in silence before heading off toward the market streets. The booths were closed, still honoring the wake period for the prince despite the cancellation of the remembrance ceremonies. The scene on the dirt roads was only mildly better than that of the lawns near the castle. Food scraps lay everywhere, and torn and trampled cloth lay scattered along the paths weaving between sections of the market. The elves had been ruthless in their rampage, only leaving the village homes intact as they stormed over the kingdom like ravenous wolves.
“I still can’t believe the prince went untouched.” Jastyn’s eyes lifted to the towering front gates of the castle to their left. “It felt inevitable that he would be taken.”
“The army was able to hold their ground outside the gate. Plus, Roisin told me that the queen had laid an extra protection spell over his body.” He handed a small piece of their bread to a hungry-eyed little girl sitting near an abandoned booth. “She is a wise woman, Queen Dechtire.”
“Yet she seems to hire staff who are entirely too loose-lipped,” Jastyn said with a nudge in Coran’s ribs.
“Roisin is a trustworthy maiden,” Coran said, defending the girl Jastyn had been hearing about for the last three months. She was glad to know Coran had found somebody in the castle to connect with, but she couldn’t resist teasing him. He was like a brother to her.
Jastyn laughed. “I’m sure she is.”
Coran’s face turned serious as they rounded a corner. The castle’s stables came into view. “She’s been mighty sad, though, since it all happened. Her charge is gone. She feels as lost as the royal family.”
Jastyn stopped. “Roisin is Aurelia’s maiden?”
“Princess Aurelia. Yeah. Didn’t I mention that?”
Shaking her head, Jastyn said, “She was Aurelia’s right hand?”
Coran nodded. “In a sense. She didn’t make any big decisions or nothin’, but she did have the princess’s ear. They’ve been together since they were young.”
Jastyn walked a little faster when they rounded a bend and started for the stables. “Coran, do you think you can get me a word with your fair Roisin?”
He faltered, glancing around. “I don’t know, Jas. It’s not really a good time.”
“Nonsense. Elisedd won’t be in for another half hour. That’s more than enough time to speak with her.”
“What do you need to talk to her for? She’s got nothin’ to do with anythin’.”
Jastyn squared around to face Coran as they reached the low gate leading to the pastures in front of the stable. “I’m not saying she does. But if anybody knows what could have happened to Aurelia, it’s gotta be Roisin.” Jastyn’s body felt light as the beginnings of a plan formed in the back of her mind.
“But the king and queen—”
“Have been mourning their son for the last four days. Think about it. The only one who’s really spoken to Aurelia since her brother’s passing was probably her maiden.”
Coran frowned as he opened the gate, and they wandered across the pasture. None of the horses were out yet, and the grounds were peaceful in the dawning light.
Sighing, he said, “All right. But don’t blame me if she doesn’t want to talk to you.”
Jastyn grinned. “Thank you. I owe you.”
Coran eyed her on their way inside the stable. “Yeah. I’ll add it to your list.”
Ten minutes later, Jastyn leaned against one of the horse pen walls, tapping her foot while she waited for Coran to return. The mare Jastyn had seen the princess ride in on nearly a month ago was missing from the stables, but a chestnut brown stallion stood nearby. Between bites of hay, it whinnied in her direction.
“Don’t look at me like that.” It neighed again, bobbing its head, seemingly amused. “What do you mean why am I here? I’m trying to help find your princess.”
The horse brayed. “Why?” Jastyn squinted at the horse, then looked down, scratching her boot along the wooden floor. Why was she here? She wasn’t one to jump in and help right away, especially when it came to the royal family. They absolutely didn’t deserve it. Or need it. Especially after what they did to her mother. Except…Aurelia was different.
When the horse whinnied at her again, Jastyn snorted. “I do not feel that way about her, or anyone, thank you very much.”
Despite herself, Jastyn imagined Aurelia riding in the fields, carefree and laughing. Her heart ached at the image, then skipped when she pictured herself riding alongside.
“Stop it, Jastyn.” She shook her head. “You have no business entangling yourself with a noble.”
Noble.
Jastyn’s throat went dry as the Red One’s words rushed back. A noble sacrifice will be required. It couldn’t be. Could it? Beginning to pace, Jastyn tried to put the pieces together. “Alanna fell ill. I sought the queen’s help, but Aurelia is the one who gave me
the bracelet.” The horse brayed. She glared into its big, blinking gaze. “You don’t mean that. The Red One is vicious, but to intend Aurelia as the means to the cure…”
“Who are you talkin’ to?”
Jastyn spun around. In the doorway at the end of the narrow path between the pens stood Coran and Roisin.
Jastyn straightened, running a hand over her braid. “Just myself. Roisin?”
The stocky girl with a wide but pretty face nodded. “Are you Coran’s friend? The one from the village?”
Stepping forward, Jastyn shook the maiden’s hand, clasping hers around Roisin’s muscular forearm. “I’m Jastyn Cipher. It’s nice to meet you. Heard a lot about you.” She winked, and Roisin blushed before exchanging bashful glances with Coran.
She cleared her throat. “Coran mentioned you wanted to see me?”
“To talk to you, yes. You were close with the princess?”
“M’lady Aurelia? Yes, I’m her maiden. We’re together most of the day. Or rather, we were.” She looked down and wiped her eyes. “My poor lady Aurelia. The poor family Diarmaid.” She began to whimper. Coran reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of cloth and handed it to Roisin, who blew her nose and took a deep breath. “Apologies. It’s been a tryin’ couple of days.”
Jastyn nodded. “Of course. I wondered if you might have any idea where the princess may have gone. Surely, you don’t think she was taken by the elves?”
Roisin’s eyes went wide. “Gods, I hope not. And to think, they were our allies! To do such a thing.” More tears fell. Coran rubbed her arm supportively.
“Have you heard anything? Or did the princess say anything about any place she might’ve gone if there was trouble?”
They stood quietly while Roisin thought. “No. I’m sorry.” She pointed to the door behind them. “This is where she would go. The castle was the safe ground. I’m certain she would have tried to get back here during the chaos. She would have wanted to know her brother was all right.”
