by Sam Ledel
When she turned around, Coran had his head propped up on his open palm. “Don’t worry, Your Highness. I won’t tell her you did that.”
Aurelia flushed and stood, moving to stand before the fire. “She looked cold.” Busying herself by jabbing the crisp logs with a singed branch, Aurelia changed the subject. “You should sleep more. It’s only a couple of hours until daylight.”
Coran sat up and took a drink from his flask. Aurelia concentrated so hard on the logs her forehead hurt. She swiped hair from her neck. As she did, the scent of her own tunic made her cringe. Almost every inch of it was soiled by rain, dirt, and gods knew what else. She hadn’t noticed until now how wretched she must look. Her wrists were pink from the elves’ rope, but most of the lashes were starting to heal. The gash on her knee—which she must have acquired during her run through the woods—was deep but didn’t look infected. It stung each time she bent to sit or even walk, but it too would heal. Perhaps once they left here, she could collect a few herbs to expedite the process.
Aurelia stopped prodding the logs. Of course, she knew that Jastyn finding her implied they would return to the kingdom. Since her escape, though, she hadn’t truly thought about what returning home would mean. Part of her longed to see her mother and father again. But the ache of returning to a place full of sorrow and mourning, a place that echoed with the memories of her brother…it was too painful to even consider.
With another glance at Jastyn, Aurelia gingerly sat cross-legged before the fire.
“Can’t sleep either, Your Highness?”
Aurelia gave a small smile. “I’m afraid not. The smell of me is enough to make one want to run the other way.”
“You must not get down to the village much.”
Realizing what she said, Aurelia stammered. “Oh, I didn’t mean…I wasn’t trying to imply—”
“I was only jokin’.” Coran laughed, digging through his satchel. He paused. “Well, mostly jokin’. Here.” He yanked out a clean navy-blue tunic featuring a slim line of gold thread around the trim of the neck and wrists. “Try this one. It’s not much, but you might be more comfortable.”
He got up and handed it to her before returning to his seat to repack his satchel.
Aurelia fingered the material, coarser than she was accustomed to but lovely nevertheless. Her eyes dampened. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it,” he said through another yawn. “Really. Jas will never let me hear the end of it.”
They both chuckled. After a minute, Aurelia asked, “Is she always like that?”
Frowning, Coran asked, “A deep sleeper? Actually, no. She has a history of—”
“No.” Aurelia interrupted. “Is she always so…” She searched the room for the right word. “Hard?”
With a snort, Coran rested his head back down. “Jastyn hasn’t had the easiest life. Her whole family hasn’t, actually.”
Aurelia nodded. “Her sister. Alanna, isn’t it? How is she?”
Coran looked surprised before he answered, “Better, Your Highness.”
“That makes me happy to know.”
Instilled with a new sense of camaraderie, Aurelia asked, “You’ve known each other a long time?”
“Me and Jastyn? We were brought up together. No, more like, we brought each other up, you know? We stuck together, helped each other out when things were tough. Which was most of the time.”
Aurelia sat quietly, imagining a young Jastyn.
“Eegit helped, too.”
“Eegit?”
“She’s the hedgewitch who lives near the village border. She and Jastyn are close. Eegit was Jastyn’s safe place if something at home was goin’ on.”
Aurelia’s eyes rested on Jastyn. She imagined Jastyn out in the Wood. It made her happy to know she had a friend, but a small river of jealousy trickled in her veins at the idea of somebody else being the one Jastyn ran to.
Coran yawned again as Aurelia asked another question. “Her father, he is Elisedd the horse master, is he not?”
“He’s her stepfather,” Coran replied, barely audible as his eyes closed tiredly.
Aurelia frowned. “Stepfather?” But Coran was already asleep. Her mind drifted back to the conversation with her mother. Her mother knew Elisedd. She even spoke of Alanna. But when she had mentioned Jastyn, the conversation had come to a screeching halt.
The pieces began to fall together, but Aurelia had to be sure. Moving to lie beside Jastyn on the bed of blankets, she imagined the many ways to ask about who she really was. Dozens of questions swam in her mind. Her heart, meanwhile, beat happily as Jastyn slept soundly beside her.
Chapter Twenty-One
Jastyn stirred, her eyes adjusting to the dull firelight. At the sight of the unfamiliar room, she bolted upright.
“It’s okay. We’re safe.”
Aurelia’s voice came from the fireside where she sat before it, her left leg extended and the other tucked close. Her right arm propped upon it, she reached her hand out to the fire. A red glow seeped from her fingertips. Seeming to notice Jastyn’s gaze, Aurelia shook her fingers, and the glow went out.
“Idle magic. It’s a silly habit.”
Jastyn didn’t reply. She only stretched her arms and looked at the blankets beside her. They had been disturbed. Aurelia must have slept. Coran continued to do so in the corner.
There was only one tiny window, but Jastyn didn’t need it to feel dawn approaching. Her body rarely let her sleep past the sun. Surprisingly, she felt rested. Visions and warnings from the Dark Fae had come to her in the night, but each time, they had been replaced by more pleasant dreams. Remembering one, she grinned and eyed Aurelia, who gave her an inquisitive look, then refocused on the gash on her left knee framed by the torn leather of her pants.
“That looks bad.” Jastyn stood and washed her face. The cold moisture was a welcome relief in the stuffy room. She ran her hands down her cheeks and over her neck. Her hands were dirty, and she cleaned them hastily. Even after a solid scrub, some dirt still lingered.
“It looks worse than it is,” Aurelia replied. “I washed it out earlier in the day. It’s not wide enough to need stitching, thank the gods. But until I can get my hands on some calendula herb, fresh air and a bandage will have to do.”
Noticing a roll of clean rags next to the water basin, Jastyn snatched them up. “Here, let me help.”
Aurelia scooted back, her face a blanket of surprise as Jastyn knelt in front of her. It was even hotter by the fire, and she wondered how Aurelia managed to look pristine with bits of perspiration lining her temple.
“You don’t have to. I know what I’m doing.”
Jastyn unfurled one of the rags, leaving the other in a pile next to them. “I have no doubt your mother passed on her many healing skills to you,” she replied curtly, licking her lips regretfully at the sight of Aurelia inching backward again. She sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m normally not this—”
“Rude?”
“I was going to say—”
“Pigheaded? Discourteous?” Aurelia cocked her head. “Insolent?”
Uncertain at the last word’s meaning, Jastyn clenched her jaw. “I was going to say, I’m not normally this high-strung. But ‘insolent’ probably covers it.”
It was quiet while Jastyn measured out the length of rag before tearing it easily into a thin strip. Aurelia exhaled.
“I’m the pigheaded one now.”
Jastyn began to wrap the strip of cloth around Aurelia’s wound. She wound it twice around her knee, making sure to drape the exposed flesh carefully. Aurelia watched her work.
“How is your sister?”
Quirking an eyebrow, Jastyn kept her eyes on her work. “Alanna is doing much better.” She recalled Remembrance Day and how she had longed to express her gratitude for the bracelet. “Your gift turned out to be extremely useful.”
“Really?” Aurelia laughed. “I was afraid you thought me a fool, handing you a silly trinket in your desperate times.”
Some trinket. Jastyn pictured the three glistening rubies. “I’m afraid it is lost now. I managed to use it in a trade.” Her gaze flickered up. “In exchange for it, the Red One gave me a temporary cure for Alanna.”
“The Red One?” Aurelia’s eyes lit with curiosity. Jastyn smelled a scent of musky earth and orchids when the princess scooted closer. “I’ve only read stories. Is it true the Red One can shapeshift into anything? Into anyone?”
Jastyn’s fingers slowed their work. “It’s true. She’s crafty, no doubt about that.”
“She?”
“She to me. No one has ever seen the Red One’s true form.” Aurelia nodded. “But she manifested as a…” Jastyn faltered, recalling the figure from her memories. “She took the form of someone from my mind. The Red One uses temptation as her main weapon in her deals. I had to keep my wits about me, but she was eager to have a token from the Diarmaid family.”
Jastyn found it difficult to avoid the inquiring spark that had taken up residence in Aurelia’s blue eyes. “She gave me an elixir for Alanna. It’s worked, but only for another couple of months. The true cure is still out there.”
As Jastyn finished tying off the rag, she felt suddenly self-conscious.
“It’s no royal treatment, but it will have to do.”
“Thank you.” Aurelia’s voice was barely above a whisper. “The cure for your sister…do you know where it is?”
“I have an idea. I just hope I can get to it before it’s too late.” Jastyn held her gaze and found herself falling into the bright, frost-colored pools. Not only were Aurelia’s eyes uncommon in the kingdom, they were so startling Jastyn found herself caught off guard with each glance. Finally, the princess dipped her chin, shaking her head as if breaking herself from a spell.
“You are not only brave, Jastyn, but you are kind. Especially when you think nobody is looking.” Aurelia’s face stretched in a smile as she held out her hand.
Jastyn gripped Aurelia’s lithe forearm in a handshake. “Your tunic is clean,” fumbled awkwardly out of her mouth.
Aurelia released Jastyn’s arm and looked down. “Oh, yes. Your friend was kind enough to lend me his spare tunic. He’s rather sweet, if I may say so.”
Jastyn licked her lips, noticing how the tunic—which would have been too big on Coran—somehow clung to Aurelia in the most perfect places. What Coran lacked, Aurelia definitely made up for in the way the material settled atop her wide hips. The neck of it hung open, exposing creamy flesh speckled with dirt.
A crackle from the fire made them jump, and they scooted apart on the floor. Jastyn was thankful to find Coran still asleep.
“It will be dawn soon,” Aurelia said, her voice a little shaky. “Should we wake him?”
“Let him sleep. We have a long walk ahead of us.” She kept her eyes on the fire as she pushed away the task ahead. It was still unclear how she would manage to avoid the royal search party and ensure Aurelia remained close without her knowing they weren’t headed back to the kingdom. The king’s group—no doubt having heard about the nymph debacle—had to be close behind. Her mind grew foggy, and she watched the flicks of light kiss the top of the fireplace before vanishing in a quick puff of soot.
“What’s that?”
Aurelia pointed to the blankets where she had slept. Next to them was Jastyn’s satchel. The royal blue pouch holding King Grannus’s gift had slipped out from inside it.
“I had forgotten about that.” Jastyn collected it and brought it over, sitting so that she mirrored Aurelia’s position before the fire. “It was a gift from your father to those of us who left in search of you.” Jastyn tipped the pouch over, adding, “I never even thought to look at what it was.”
From inside fell a sphere of clear glass, slightly larger than a grapefruit. It fit nicely in Jastyn’s palm as they stared intently at the milky light that swirled within.
“It’s, um,” Jastyn murmured, “very thoughtful of him.” She lifted it higher and watched swirls of what looked like watery cream twist inside the glass. “What is it?”
Aurelia’s eyes were wide. She tapped the glass, and her lips parted when the light grew brighter. “I don’t believe it.”
“It almost looks like a saol.” Jastyn tilted the glass. “But I’ve never seen one this color.”
“That’s because there are no saols like this one. If I’m correct, my father distributed the Light of Triur to each of you.” The princess looked dumbfounded. Jastyn racked her mind, but she had never heard of such a thing.
Aurelia’s voice took on a wistful tone, as if reciting from a well-read text. “I knew this only as another legend. In the beginning of our world, the first kings of the three kingdoms met in council. Representatives from Venostes, Gultero, and the northern kingdom of Uterni came together to form the laws and create a government for their people. Among their ideas was a recovery plan should outside forces penetrate these lands. It was decided that each leader would contribute a flame from their saols. At the time, elemental magic was new, and these were the first companion flames. It’s said each fire burned with the brightness of a dozen suns. Combined, they were even more powerful. Once created, this Light was distributed to each kingdom and kept safely within each ruler’s walls. This way, if the world was ever lost to darkness, the light could serve as a guide to reunite the tribes and begin again.”
Jastyn listened, enraptured as the light bounced against the sides of the glass. Aurelia took it in her own hands, turning the orb over. Her eyebrows knitted in a frown.
“What?”
Shaking her head, Aurelia said, “I don’t understand. The Light of Triur is supposed to be for the direst of times. A war, or mass invasion…” Her voice trailed off.
Jastyn watched Aurelia’s face shift from disbelief to pain. She was sure they were both recalling the same images from the prince’s remembrance: bloody lawns near the castle gates, bodies strewn helplessly across the grass.
“Your parents care for you a great deal,” Jastyn finally said. “If you were not found, the kingdom would be without its heir.” Blinking, Aurelia met Jastyn’s gaze, whose lips twitched into a smile. “That sounds like a pretty dire situation to me.”
Aurelia’s eyes swam with something that sent a tremor down Jastyn’s spine. Her body grew hot, and she desperately wanted to lean closer, wanted to wrap her arms around Aurelia and hold her until the sadness seeping from her dissipated.
She held out a hand, and Aurelia placed the orb carefully into her open palm. Aurelia’s hands cupped Jastyn’s, and they sat like that for what seemed like forever.
A raucous shout broke the silence holding them together. Voices, high and worried, rose from the main room. Hurriedly, Jastyn tucked the glass inside the pouch and stood.
“What’s happening?” Aurelia rose too, her shoulder brushing Jastyn’s.
“I’m not sure.”
Sounds of an argument started; voices were quick and heated. Jastyn stepped in front of Aurelia. Coran stirred in the corner.
“Did you make the barmaid angry again, Jas?” He rubbed his eyes, then sat up quickly at the sight of Jastyn and Aurelia frozen together in front of the fire. “What’s goin’ on?”
There was a sharp splintering, like chairs breaking, followed by fists hitting flesh and the hiss of spell-fire.
“They’ve found me.”
Jastyn glanced behind her. Aurelia’s pale lips were tight with fear. Coran gathered his satchel, adding a blanket to his bundle before joining them. Jastyn pulled back her shoulders. “We won’t let anything harm you. Do you hear me?”
Aurelia nodded, but her eyes were locked on the doorway. The shouting moved closer. Jastyn recognized the bartender’s voice. The three of them stood together, huddled close and barely breathing.
Then the voices stopped.
“Maybe they’ve gone,” whispered Coran.
Jastyn didn’t have time to register the soft fingers that gripped hers before the wall next to the doorway blew ope
n in a deafening crash, chunks of wood flying in every direction as dirt and smoke filled the small space. Coran and Jastyn ducked, leaning across one another to shield Aurelia. The earsplitting noise was interspersed with the whoosh of yellow spell-fire, which threw more of the wall against them until the floor was littered with its remnants, and the doorway was three times its original size.
Peeking through the clouds of dust and smoke, Jastyn noticed a limp figure lying in the middle of the floor. Atop a pile of splintered wood lay the barmaid, her freckled arms at awkward angles on either side of her body. Her eyes were open wide, lifeless and frozen.
“Gods,” Aurelia whimpered.
“There you are. I knew the wench was hiding something.”
Standing within the cragged, sizzling edges of the wall stood a barrel-chested man whom Jastyn recognized from the castle barn all those months ago. His blond curls were longer, wilder and untamed against his broad shoulders. He kicked a piece of broken wood and stepped into the room before swiping two fingers down his goatee.
“Really, Aurelia, the trouble you’ve caused.”
Aurelia shook behind Jastyn. Two silver-haired elves, one several inches taller than the other with slim shoulders, stood behind him. The shorter of the two glared at the barmaid spread on the floor. The other, Jastyn noticed, had his eyes locked on Aurelia.
“Drest. How did you find me?”
He clapped his hands together as if ridding them of the damage he had caused. His left boot kicked the leg of the barmaid when he strode past.
“You thought you were so clever. The sleeping draught was unexpected, I’ll give you that. Your mother taught you well.”
Aurelia shot out from between Jastyn and Coran, nearly knocking them over as she dug a finger into Drest’s chest. “Don’t you dare speak about my family. You betrayed us. You betrayed my brother!”
“Aurelia.” Jastyn reached out, tugging her back. She began to align the story of what happened. This man—Drest—was most likely behind the prince’s death. Was he the one who kidnapped Aurelia? Jastyn’s anger took root, but it was replaced by uncertainty as the man’s eyes went clear. She wasn’t sure what that meant, but she didn’t think it could be good.
