by Sam Ledel
Ignoring him, Jastyn eyed the satchel thrown over one of his shoulders. “What’s that for?” she asked, glancing back at the applauding villagers as a short woman with red hair accepted another pouch from the king.
“You didn’t really think you’d go lookin’ for the princess on your own, did you?”
Jastyn’s eyes went wide as she turned around. “No.” She shook her head. “Coran, you can’t. I didn’t ask for your help.”
“You never do, do you?” He nudged her through the crowd. Stumbling forward, Jastyn protested over her shoulder.
“Coran, this is my responsibility. Not yours.”
“Tell that to those people.” He motioned to the line of a half a dozen villagers gathered tightly, clutching their pouches. “Besides, since when is finding the princess your job? Since when is she your charge?”
Rolling her eyes, Jastyn ignored the flip-flop of her stomach at talk of Aurelia. “I’m only saying that this journey isn’t meant for you. I need to do this.” She tugged Coran to the side, avoiding the line shrinking before the king.
“Jas, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain. I know you need the reward. I can’t say I wouldn’t be happy with a few more coins in my pocket myself. I get it.”
Her eyes met Coran’s. What she saw in them at that moment made the air catch in her throat. In his eyes swam the complete belief that this really was about the reward. She saw her own desperation looking back at her. It made her shudder. In a flash—like the sun glinting off the sea—she saw what everyone else thought of her, too. She saw her own hunger, her unending quest for respect. She saw how little everyone knew of her and of Alanna’s illness. She saw her own desperation for a cure and what she would do to find it. She saw how no one, not even Coran, could ever understand the life her family deserved, the life Jastyn knew they could have as long as she didn’t return empty-handed.
She knew then what her plan would entail. Closing her eyes, she accepted the inevitable truth of the Red One’s words. She knew that she would find Aurelia. But she would not return the princess to the kingdom. Not right away. Not after what the Red One told her. The noble sacrifice the fae spoke of was the one thing Jastyn hoped it wasn’t: Aurelia. She was of noble blood, and now the heir to the Diarmaid throne. Aurelia was the one who gifted her the bracelet. Whatever waited in the western caves, it required something from the princess. Jastyn would have to use her. The idea sent a shock wave down her spine, and she hardened with determination. This was the only way to ensure the cure for Alanna.
Jastyn tore herself from Coran’s gaze. There was no way he would understand. He was loyal and wouldn’t question her, but he didn’t deserve to be burdened with this. This decision was hers to carry. So she let him believe what he wanted.
“You’re right,” she finally said. “We need the money. So, let’s go find this princess of yours, and I’ll split the reward with you. Seventy-thirty sounds fair.” She winked.
“It’ll be sixty-forty by nightfall,” Coran replied as she stepped forward. It was her turn to greet the king. The familiar hush that came with her making an appearance anywhere ran through the crowd like a wave—building higher and higher until silence overcame the market streets.
King Grannus looked behind her at the hushed group. She saw the confusion in his gaze and in the triangle of lines formed between his brow. She crossed her right arm over her chest in a salute.
“Your Highness.”
He lowered his chin in return. “You are brave to join the search for my daughter. For that, I thank you.” A nearby guardsmen handed him a final pouch, which Jastyn took. “May this guide your steps on the journey through the Wood.”
Jastyn began to reply, began to tell him that she wasn’t doing this for him, that she was barely doing this for Aurelia, that she couldn’t care less for his well-being. But in his tired eyes she saw the princess. She saw Aurelia sitting tall in her throne upon the hill, every fiber of her body resonating with grief over the loss of her brother. The image overcame Jastyn, and she was surprised to feel the sting of tears.
Slowly, she extended her hand, and the king followed suit. As their arms locked in a pact, Jastyn hoped he couldn’t see the lies springing from her lips. “I will do what I can to bring your daughter home.”
Three days later, Jastyn sat beside Coran several yards from a roaring yellow campfire that blazed in the middle of a rowdy circle of villagers, each one exchanging stories and swapping mead-filled flasks under the cold, clear night sky. They had set up camp about seven miles inland from the kingdom’s northwest border, in the direction the king had believed Aurelia’s captors had taken. Jastyn, reluctantly, had to agree. The elves were to the north, and they were too smart to bring the princess onto their land. The sea lay to the east, so the only other option was west, toward the Mountains of Ionad.
Coran tore off a chunk of bread. His breath gleamed pale in front of his face when he spoke. “Quite the bunch.” He chewed pensively, watching several of the villagers begin an arm-wrestling match.
Scoffing, Jastyn said, “They’re going to get us all killed.” She threw a fallen branch she’d been sharpening into the grass. “Since not one of them knows the key to finding a missing person is being quiet!” She raised her voice on the last two words, which warranted only a slight pause in the group’s jubilation.
“They’re just excited. Most of ’em haven’t been out of the village before.”
“So, this is, what, a vacation for them? Don’t they realize these woods are teeming with fae, only half of which take kindly to wandering humans?”
Coran wiped his mouth after drawing a drink from his flask. “Probably not.”
There was a rustling sound behind them, followed by the crackling of twigs. Coran and Jastyn exchanged glances, then he shrugged and stretched out on the ground, molding his satchel into a pillow. “Give ’em a break, Jas. Not everyone grew up with a hedgewitch as a best friend.”
Jastyn grinned, and her ears pricked at another sound, this one like the soft rush of falling leaves. She listened as her mind drifted to Eegit. She didn’t like to admit it, but she missed the old loon. When she had gone to her meadow the other night, she hadn’t had the guts to talk to her about the fight with her mother. Still, she hoped Eegit had sensed her presence and understood.
Clearing her throat, Jastyn redirected her gaze to the group of villagers. “They don’t even know which direction to go. When we set out each morning, they follow an hour later. If it were up to them, Aurelia would be a goner.”
As soon as she’d said the words, a heavy pang hit Jastyn deep in her chest. The idea of Aurelia perishing in the Wood was like being drenched with icy river water. She swallowed, forcing the image of Aurelia starved and left for dead out of her mind. I’m not supposed to care this much.
Coran nudged her knee with his foot. “You okay?” His voice was distant. When she looked over at him, he was already half-asleep.
“I’m fine, Coran. Get some rest.” Jastyn pulled her tunic tighter around her. The night air nipped at her neck and hands. Meanwhile, the villagers broke into a series of songs, loud and discordant. Yet their voices trilled with happiness and filled the dark air with sounds of home. Jastyn let herself relax, bowing her chin to her chest in an attempt at sleep.
Chapter Nineteen
The Red One danced in circles around Jastyn, her hips swinging hypnotically. They were in the same clearing where they had met over a month ago. And they were alone. Jastyn knew the leprechaun was using a glamor spell to take the form of the woman from her memories, the dark-skinned dancer from a foreign land. Nevertheless, she let Rua move closer, her intoxicating smell engulfing Jastyn’s senses. She desperately wanted to take hold of her hips and feel them sway beneath her hands. Rua smiled, turning slowly. Biting her lip, Jastyn’s gaze fell to her waist. The Red One’s image shifted. Her features grew dim, and her short stature sprang up until a dark shadow towered over Jastyn, and the Dark Fae of her nightmares stood in the bl
ackness.
“Leave me alone!” Jastyn shouted, looking anywhere but at the vast emptiness beneath the fae’s hood. She tried to run, but her feet were like rocks, anchored to the ground. The tall grass laced around her ankles, twisting up her calves until she was trapped.
The Dark Fae tilted his head, amused at her struggle. “Foolish Odium Child. This journey will be your undoing.”
Jastyn’s body shook. Her hands fought against the long blades of grass twisting around her. Furious, she yelled, “You’re wrong! I will find the cure! I will!”
Bellowing laughter shook the meadow. Her body trembled, but she never stopped fighting as the grass grew higher. She managed to take out her knife and swiped furiously at the grass winding around her waist. It clenched tight against her. She continued to shout, forcing the Dark Fae’s laughter from her mind.
“You’re wrong! You’re wrong!” The grass fell where she cut it, but as soon as one leg was freed, more vines shot up around the other. “I will find the cure. I will save Alanna. I’ll find Aurelia. You’re wrong!” She was screaming, her voice hoarse with rage and fear. She couldn’t stop. If she stopped, the laughter would overpower her mind, and she’d be lost in the darkness. “You’re wrong!”
“Jastyn?”
Jastyn’s hand stopped. The tangled vines that had encased her legs fell to the ground. She stepped forward, free from their grasp. The Dark Fae vanished. Where he had been, the princess stood, her face pinched in concern.
“Aurelia!”
The princess reached out as Jastyn ran to her. It took everything Jastyn had to not pull her close. “You’re all right! I knew I would find you.” She searched Aurelia’s face. The princess’s gaze was distant. Her lips curved in a smile.
Carefully, Jastyn reached out her hand. Aurelia took it. Raising her arm, Jastyn led Aurelia in a spin, finishing the dance the Red One had begun earlier. Unable to stop herself, she pulled the princess against her. Jastyn breathed her in, pressed their cheeks close. She wrapped her arms around Aurelia, tracing the line of her spine down to her slender waist.
They stood like that for a while, holding on to one another. Eventually, Aurelia began to giggle. Jastyn smiled into her shoulder. The sound was high and quick, like a chaffinch in spring. She tilted her head to leave a trail of light kisses along Aurelia’s neck. This invoked more laughter, and warmth radiated from Jastyn’s center. She loved the sound of Aurelia’s laughter. Wanting to see her face, Jastyn stepped back.
When she did, Aurelia’s laughter stopped. Her face was serious, scared even. When she spoke, Jastyn frowned as Coran’s voice came through the princess’s lips.
“Jastyn, wake up.”
Blinking, Jastyn shook her head. She squeezed tighter to Aurelia’s waist. But when she did, Aurelia vanished. Jastyn searched the empty meadow, but Aurelia was gone. Coran’s voice echoed around her.
“Wake up, Jastyn. Now!”
With a jolt, Jastyn sat up. She looked around, the lingering image of Aurelia still close enough to touch. It was only Coran standing above her though, panic on his face.
“What is it?” she asked, moving to crouch. The Wood was dark and the air still bitterly cold. “Coran, it’s the middle of the night. What’s going on?” Laughter tickled her ear. Jastyn shook her head, trying to chase the dream of Aurelia from her mind. But the laughter continued.
Coran stooped beside her, hastily packing their satchels. “Nymphs,” he said, pointing to the main campfire. Jastyn rubbed her hands to warm them and focused her gaze on the group of villagers. While some of them still lay asleep, their faces slack with dreams, others, including two women and one burly man Jastyn recognized as a shepherd, were dancing arm in arm with four frolicking wood nymphs.
“I’ve never been this close to one before.” Coran spoke low as they moved behind a tree. “I didn’t think nymphs lived in groups.”
“They don’t.” Jastyn splashed her face with water from her flask. “I bet this many humans alone in the Wood was too much for them to resist.”
“They won’t hurt ’em, will they?”
Jastyn laughed under her breath. “Please, they’re nymphs. The best they can do is lull everybody into a stupor so that all any of them can think about is singing and dancing and…”
One of the nymphs—a short, curvy creature with the body of a female and skin the color of wet tree bark—pulled one of the village women from their dancing circle. The nymph’s hair was a thicket of tree branches that stood straight up and she wore no clothing. Jastyn could see flowers blossoming along her thighs and shoulders. The villager, who Jastyn knew as a grumpy older woman who sold sheepskin blankets at the market, was suddenly alight with a doe-eyed look on her face. Seconds later, she and the nymph tumbled to the ground together in an embrace.
“Are they—”
Jastyn nodded. “Yes.”
Coran flushed. “We really do need to get out of here.”
“Come on.” Jastyn turned to go but ran right into a nymph. This one was almost her height. Her skin, rough and splintered, was the same color as the others. The flowers blooming on her chest and knees featured bright purple petals and emitted a heady smell. Her hair, each strand a thin branch that curved to her shoulders, didn’t move when she stepped toward them.
“Lucky me,” she purred, running a knotted finger down Coran’s cheek, her eyes dancing between them. “Whatever shall the three of us do?”
Coran stuttered, falling over himself. Jastyn elbowed him in the ribs. “We’re not interested,” she said, grabbing Coran and moving around the fae. But the nymph was quick and stepped in front of them again. This time, she reached out, her hands stretching to wrap around Jastyn’s neck.
“You are such a handsome human,” she cooed, her voice mesmerizing. “Come dance with me.”
Jastyn felt dizzy and began to lose herself in the nymph’s swirling eyes, deep pools of lilac and gold. She felt the urge to fall into them and drift away on a careless wind.
“Isn’t that the king? And the royal guard right behind him!”
Coran’s voice cut through the nymph’s pull, and Jastyn tumbled backward. The nymph hissed and spun around. At the same time, Coran took hold of Jastyn’s wrist. “Run!”
They took off. Jastyn threw her satchel around her shoulder. Coran did the same, and they sprinted between the trees, deeper into the Wood.
“What about the others?” he called as they parted around the trunk of a giant tree, careful to leap over its gnarled roots.
Jastyn glanced back. There was no sign of the nymph, and the firelight from their camp was only a gleaming pebble in the distance. “They’re on their own now.”
They continued to run, dashing between trees and over hunched shrubs dotted with elderberries. Jastyn made sure to note the moss, bright and crawling on the surrounding bark, to point them in the right direction. She glanced up between the thick overhang of leaves. Between them she caught flashes of the night sky; the patterns reassured her that they were continuing west, where the king hoped Aurelia might be found.
After a few minutes, they slowed to a walk, their breath shining in front of them. “I think we lost her.” Coran bent over, resting his hands on his knees. When his breathing steadied, he laughed. Jastyn watched him for a second. “What?”
“That nymph nearly ate you alive.” His shoulders shook, and he wiped his eyes.
Jastyn straightened. “She did not.”
“I thought she was going to unhinge her jaw and swallow you up.” Now it was Jastyn’s turn to laugh.
“She’s not my type.”
Coran took a drink from his flask. His eyebrow raised over the end of it. “Right. You go for the taller, more refined type, don’t you?”
Jastyn shot him a look. He replaced the cap of the flask, then put his hands up. “I’m just sayin’.”
Walking past him, Jastyn made sure to give his shoulder a good punch. Coran chuckled, rubbing where she hit. “Let’s keep moving,” she said, readjusting her
satchel. The night was at its darkest now, and Jastyn knew they needed to find a place to sleep before any more fae decided to make their presence known.
They walked in silence, the only sounds coming from the depths of the Wood and the crunch of leaves beneath their feet. A long, lonely howl pierced the shroud of darkness, followed by a grating screech. Coran and Jastyn exchanged looks, picking up their pace.
After a while, Jastyn paused, holding out her arm. “Do you smell that?”
Coran sniffed. “Smells like smoke.”
“Exactly.” Jastyn moved forward, hurrying between trees. Coran followed at her heels.
“Jas, what is it?”
Crouching behind a line of boysenberry shrubs, Jastyn pointed to a lodging nestled in a clearing half the size of Eegit’s. The trivial structure was made entirely of wood, except for the chimney with its lopsided boulders forming a stack from which a line of sweet-smelling smoke snaked out. Two windows sat on either side of a wide wooden door. Bright light glowed from the open squares. Voices and laughter drifted from inside and rode the night wind. A sign above the door bore the image of a cauldron filled with coins.
“It’s a leprechaun lodging. A public house for fae.”
“Maybe they know somethin’ about the princess.”
Jastyn swallowed. “Maybe.” She stepped through the brush, making her way to the lodging. Coran called out from behind her.
“Wait, Jas, that’s fae territory. What if…what if we’re not welcome?”
Jastyn kept walking but turned around, gesturing to the Wood. “Coran, we’ve been in fae territory for days. Besides, I don’t know about you, but I’m starved.” With that, she turned back around. Coran’s quick steps hurried behind her, and together they made their way to the lodging, the smell of meat and baked bread beckoning like a siren’s song in the night.
* * *
“Are you sure this is a leprechaun lodging?” Coran asked under his breath as they maneuvered between uneven rows of low tables, each packed with patrons. “They look just like us.”
