Reckless Cruel Heirs

by Olivia Wildenstein

  Remo breathed hard but glared harder. “Seriously, Amara?”

  The wolves growled and prowled and leaped but didn’t manage to reach us. One of them sniffed the fruit, knocking it with its muzzle. The Alpha took interest in it next and shoved its packmate. After a long sniff, the mammoth wolf huffed and turned away.

  “If that doesn’t tell you there’s something wrong with it, then I don’t know what will,” Remo said.

  “Maybe they’re fruitphobic,” I blurted out because I didn’t want to agree with him.

  Remo stared at me, his jaw working.

  The Alpha howled, its yellow eyes glowing. Tail and ears still erect, it galloped away, and I thought we were safe. Well, as safe as two powerless fae could be in a supernatural jail. But then the enormous wolf flipped around and sprinted down the tracks, gaining velocity. It was going for the platform at the end of the trench.

  My heart held still as the animal lurched into the air, managing to dock the top half of its body. As its massive hindlegs kicked and pushed, Remo yelled, “We need to get to higher ground!”

  My heart whizzed, hurtling against my ribs. “The train.”

  “The doors are all open.”

  “Maybe they close.”

  “Maybe they don’t.”

  The wolf dragged itself farther onto the platform and then sprang onto its four paws.

  “On top, then!” I ripped my arm out of Remo’s hold, then took off toward the conductor car and swung myself inside.

  Remo jumped in after me. He tried to shove the door closed but it was stuck. He punched the roof out of frustration.

  “Up up up up!” I yelled, climbing out the window and pushing off the ledge to reach the top of the car.

  Its rounded shape made scaling it a struggle, and I almost slipped right down onto the tracks where the rest of the pack had congregated, drooling and yapping. Finally, I managed to swing my leg over it. Remo’s head popped out the window and then his torso. He heaved himself out, sweat dripping down the sides of his face. Just as the massive white Alpha sprang into the carriage, Remo tucked his dangling legs up.

  My heart rammed into my ribs again. I was about to set a Neverrian record and become the very first faerie to die of a heart attack.

  Latching onto the chimney, I scrambled upright, then offered Remo a hand so he could stand too. I didn’t think the proud fae would take it, but his fingers gripped mine, and with my help, he heaved himself up.

  The wolf’s huge head popped out of the window. It snarled and barked. When it realized it couldn’t reach us, it reared up. The carriage started to shake, and Remo, who’d been trying to keep some distance between us, circled his arms around the locomotive’s chimney, sandwiching me between the cool black metal and his overheated hard body. I didn’t push him away, because feeling like a burger patty exponentially diminished my chances of becoming one.

  “I hate lupa,” Remo gritted between clenched teeth.

  The train shook and rattled so hard I thought the wolf would manage to topple it. When everything else was stuck in this damn town, why did we have to pick the only thing that wasn’t? “You know what I don’t get?”

  “No, what don’t you get, Trifecta?”

  “Why you helped me get away from the wolves when you clearly hate my guts.”

  His hot breaths pulsed against the shell of my ear a half dozen times before he finally answered, “I’ve been trained to protect fae. Even the abominable ones.”

  Instead of my temper rising, it was my lips that did. I turned my head slightly, just enough for him to detect my mocking smile. “Is that why?”

  His pupils spread, devouring their green backdrops. It hit me then that his eyes weren’t gold anymore. This world had stolen his lucionaga magic just like it had stolen my diverse one.

  I was about to say something about it in case he hadn’t realized he couldn’t transform into a firefly, when he asked, “Did you think I cared about you?”

  “Cared about me?” I laughed, my chest shaking even though the carriage no longer did. “Oh no, Remo Farrow.” My hilarity petered out as swiftly as it had struck, and I leveled a hard dry look on the faerie guard. “I assumed you cared about my crown, and it sitting on top of your head someday.”

  His lash line dipped, obscuring his eyes. “I don’t give a shit about your crown.”

  Liar, I thought. “Then why did you agree to marry me?”

  “To make my grandfather happy.”

  “Aw. Aren’t you the sweetest?” My syrupy voice made him scowl. “You think you’ll ever start thinking for yourself, or will you always let your grandfather and mother dictate your opinions and steer your life?”

  The vein in his temple, the one under his birthmark, throbbed. “I should’ve let you get mauled.”

  Gratitude that he didn’t abated my virulence. I gave him a close-lipped smile before directing my attention toward the tracks. “I think they’re gone.”

  Remo peered over my head, twisting it to the right and then to the left. Slowly, he peeled his body off mine but kept one palm on the chimney for support.

  “I think you’re right, but considering they’re smart as fuck, they probably haven’t strayed too far. Did I mention how much I hate lupa?”

  “A few times.” I wrinkled my nose. “I’ve decided I’m no longer a fan. At least, not of the Frontier Land breed.”

  He snorted.

  Gnawing on my lip, I added, “If you haven’t shelved your offer, I’d like to take you up on it.”

  “My offer?”

  I grimaced. “To stay together.”

  A smug smile tugged at his mouth. “Whatever changed your mind, prinsisa?”

  I almost wanted to take it back. Almost. But a distant howl cemented my desire not to trek through this land alone. “I don’t want to die, and if that means sticking to you for the next few hours”—or days . . . hopefully hours—“then so be it.”

  He studied me a moment before backing up some more. “Don’t stick too close.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it. So what’s the plan?”

  “Not getting eaten by lupa.”

  “Besides that and reaching the portal?”

  He took in the mountain and the tunnel running through it. “We need to see where the tracks lead.”

  How could we when a pack of rabid wolves guarded the entrance like some fae-version of Cerberus?

  An idea surfaced. “The train. It shook.”

  “You don’t say.”

  I rolled my eyes. “What I meant is, it’s not stuck to the tracks, so maybe it works.”

  Surprise sculpted the line of his jaw. Ha! He hadn’t thought of that. Ten points to Amara. Zero to Remo. Okay, half a point for saving my ass earlier.

  “You might be onto something.” He gestured to the platform with a flourish. “After you.”

  “Coward,” I muttered.

  “You mean, chivalrous?”

  I glared at him, which just made his smirk grow.

  “Fine. I’ll go first.” I kneeled and then slid myself back down toward the window, praying the wolf wasn’t waiting quietly inside.

  I probably should’ve checked before threading my legs through the opening. Apparently, my survival instincts were underdeveloped. Back in Linus’s day, it was tradition for royal fae on the brink of adulthood to trek across Neverra alone and without the use of any of their powers. Although my aunt’s account had made me grateful Iba had abolished the tradition, the initiatory voyage might’ve served me well.

  Thankfully, the conductor wagon was empty. I tried the door again, but it was jammed open.

  The train dipped as Remo vaulted through the window and touched down next to me.

  There were two levers on the conductor’s dashboard. Unfortunately, there were no plaques nailed beside either to explain what they did, and a scan of the cramped quarters revealed no instruction booklet. I sighed. They were probably just inoperable props. I wrapped my hand around one anyway, then gave a hard shove. The
lever glided as smoothly as a Daneelie through water.

  “Trifecta, don’t touch—” Remo’s command was interrupted by a deafening clank: the door smacking shut.

  My heart fired up again. “At least, we know how to close the door now.”

  Remo grumbled something under his breath. Although I didn’t make out his words, his incendiary stare gave me the gist of them. Before he could holler at me again, or grump out some more, I pushed the second lever up. A shrieking whistle tore out of the chimney, followed by a torrent of steam.

  We were on our way! Skies knows where. All I prayed for was that it would be livelier, and by that I meant populated by humans instead of overzealous wolves or animate blooms.

  The train shook hard, as though the wolves were throwing themselves at it, but didn’t chug down the tracks.

  Remo gripped the door lever and tried to shove it down, but it didn’t move. Muscles bulging underneath his navy tunic, precariously stretching the fabric, he tried the second lever, but it, too, didn’t budge. Perhaps the person who’d activated the train was the only one capable of stopping it? I gave both levers a violent tug. Useless.

  “Did you think I wasn’t pulling hard enough, Trifecta?”

  “Don’t bite my head off. And just because my arms aren’t as big as thighs doesn’t mean I’m weak.”

  He huffed and then turned toward the opening we’d come through earlier and gripped the sill to climb out, but a thick piece of metal rose like a window being powered up. “What the—” He snatched his hand back before the metal could saw it off.

  I swallowed as the curved glass panel in front of us darkened and turned opaque.

  Fear spread through me, and I backed up, my calves bumping into the conductor’s bench. I sank down hard, and a bolt of pain shot up my tailbone. Oh, Skies, I was going to die in a metal box next to Remo Farrow. I wasn’t sure what horrified me more: the claustrophobic nature of my death or the fact that Remo would be the last person I’d see before dying.

  My fiancé rained punches on our wrought-iron casket and snarled like a lupa while I gathered my legs against me and pressed my eyes against my kneecaps.

  I hadn’t thought anything could beat sticking my hand in the Cauldron alongside Remo’s, but then I’d dropped through a fifty-foot portal, was attacked by a swarm of shrieking pink blooms, explored a ghost town, and made the acquaintance of a rabid pack of wolves before getting locked into a clattering train car. The fact that I kept one-upping myself worried me to no end.

  A sob lurched out of my mouth, but I managed to stifle most of it on my knees. Dust coated my wobbly lips, and my parched throat burned.

  Remo’s punching and swearing stopped. “Crying won’t help, Trifecta.”

  I didn’t pick my face off my legs, but I wedged my cracked lips tighter together to cry more quietly.

  A hand landed on my tensed arm and gripped it gently. “Come on, don’t cry.” Remo’s voice sounded strained. “You’re not in this alone.”

  I lifted my head. “How neat. We can die together. Do you want to hold hands now?”

  His green eyes flared, but I couldn’t tell with what, because my vision was all blurry. “We’re not going to die. I swear I’ll find a way out of this thing.”

  I was about to shake my head at how naïve he was when the train stopped rocking and the darkened windows cleared. Both Remo and I watched the land develop beyond the window.

  The rocky mountain was still there, but the terrain around us was . . . it was different.

  The train door hissed, releasing us into a brand-new cell.

  13

  The Glass City

  “Look at that.” Remo’s voice sliced through the ringing silence. “I told you I’d get us out of here, and I got us out of here.”

  “Yeah. I don’t think you had any hand in that.”

  “You’d be surprised by the power of positive thinking.”

  I side-eyed him. “Can you positive-think us back to Neverra?”

  He smiled. “Trust me. Every few seconds, I’m sending brainwaves toward the portal.”

  I shook my head but smiled . . . a little.

  He tipped his head toward the open door. “Ready to go explore?”

  “I hate exploring. Maybe if we sit here long enough, the magical train will take us back home.”

  “If my grandfather designed this place, this train won’t take us anywhere nice.”

  I slid my lower lip between my teeth and stared back out at the skyscrapers of glass rising from an endless slab of concrete. To say I missed the dry dusty town we’d left behind would be a stretch, but I wasn’t looking forward to finding out what hid in this world.

  Remo hopped out of the train, head swiveling as he scrutinized our new surroundings. Slowly, I rose from the bench and climbed out, too. The station had adapted to the environment. Instead of bricks, a single-paned dome of glass enclosed a platform fashioned from silver metal polished to a mirror-shine. The tracks consisted of the same magnetic strips humans used in their metropoles, and the train was sleek and bullet-shaped.

  Even though this land looked more familiar than the last, it didn’t feel any more familiar. It was cold, made colder by the blistering white sky and frosty air. I hugged myself as I took in the glass rectangles glittering like cut diamonds. They stretched so high that if the portal had been in the valley, we could’ve cracked open a window and easily hopped onto it.

  Remembering something Josh had told me about the Neverrian prison portal, I whipped my attention to Remo. “You think the portal relocated?”

  “I don’t know.” His gaze surfed toward the mountain we’d skidded down in Frontier Land.

  Instead of a tangle of bulbous cacti, the forest that sprawled atop the cliff seemed made of pale blue trunks with glossy white branches—an ice garden?

  “Does that mountain flank look steeper to you?” I asked.

  “It does.”

  Was it to keep us from reaching the plateau? Did it mean the portal was up there?

  “Your lips are purple, Trifecta.”

  “Well, it is freezing.” My teeth chattered, but I wasn’t sure how much of that was due to the biting air and how much was due to my mounting pessimism. “Aren’t you cold?”

  He shrugged. “Let’s get moving. You’ll warm up.”

  “Or we can hop back in the train and go someplace else?” Preferably somewhere tropical like a sun-drenched beach with floating hammocks and piña-coladas topped with cocktail umbrellas.

  “We might end up right back with the lupa.”

  Sighing, I turned away from the train. My toes tingled in my boots, and the tips of my fingers throbbed. Thank the Skies for the gloves Remo had lent me. How I prayed he wouldn’t reclaim them.

  His dark eyebrows, which shone a deep auburn amidst the streaks of dried ochre, gathered a little closer together. “What?”

  “What what?”

  “You were clearly thinking something.”

  “Nope. I was thinking nothing.”

  He narrowed his eyes.

  Before he could link my guilt to his gloves, I said, “Your eyes are green.”

  His forehead smoothed even though his gaze remained tapered. “And yours are blue. Shall we move on to hair?”

  I snorted. “What I meant was, they’re no longer gold.”

  His pupils shrank, then spread back out. “I figured as much when I tried shifting and didn’t manage.” He rolled his neck from side to side as though getting ready for a fight. Since for once, his fight wasn’t with me, I worried what he expected to find in this place. Maybe mammoth polar bears or vampiric bunnies?

  He started toward the curved opening in the glass dome, and I trotted to catch up. I’d promised not to stick too close to him, but there was no way I was letting him out of my sight. Our footsteps pinged off the metal and curved glass. Once outside, we circled around the modern station, coming to a stop on the cement road that stretched toward the cliff frosted with the ice garden. The setup of
this world was the same as in Frontier Land—a single street bracketed by buildings. But the similarities stopped there.

  “You think we’ll find running water?” What I wouldn’t give for a drink and a hot bath.

  “Let’s hope so.” Remo tipped his head back, squinting at the buildings before heading into the tallest. “This one should afford us the best view.”

  “We’re not looking for a piece of prime real estate, Remo.”

  He shot me an eloquent look. “The reason I want the best panorama, Trifecta, is to peer into the rest of the buildings without having to climb them all.”

  “Bench the petulance, Farrow. It’s unbecoming of an almost adult.”

  He punched me again with his neon-bright eyes. “And inanity is unbecoming of an almost queen.” He didn’t linger to watch the effect of his criticism.

  “It’s called sarcasm,” I called out after him.

  We entered the building through a large square opening that should’ve housed a revolving door. Thoughtless architect. The lobby was enormous, made more so by the bare, buffed white floors that reflected the winding, glass staircase.

  I hugged my arms tighter. “You don’t see an elevator by any chance?”

  “Afraid of a few stairs, prinsisa?”

  I set my teeth. Remo Farrow had the temperament of a quila. We’d surely end up murdering each other before any pack of zany animals found us.

  “I’d offer to carry you but I might be tempted to drop you”—he dipped his chin into his neck—“and not from the first floor. Even though, considering the height of the first floor, it would surely hurt.”

  My arms fell from their tight knot and swung as I stormed ahead of him toward the stairs. “Like I would ever trust you to carry me.”

  “Would you honestly have trusted an elevator in this place, though? It would probably take you to the top and then drop down.”

  Goose bumps of fear sprouted over my goose bumps of cold.

  “Plus, walking up a couple dozen flights of stairs should warm you right up.”

  “Hating you is already helping with that.” My heart pumped harder, allocating heat to my extremities.