Betrayal and Yearning_A Fantasy Romance

by Eve Redmayne

  By the time she returned to the rocky outcrop, the day had fled. After pushing her way through the protective shrubs, Willow’s mouth dropped. Everything had changed. Before, there had been nothing but bare rocks and a few ferns, now the entire clearing bloomed. The ferns cradling Jessica’s body had spread to create a garden—a profusion of spiky green fronds, along with cauldron-sized flowers.

  A bear ambled into view, and Willow let out a small peep. But it sat on its rump, munched a tuber, and paid her no attention. Blessed cauldron, she’d sensed great power in Jessica, but to see its physical manifestation…

  Her eyes shifted to Jessica, wandering about, naked as a lark. The human laughed, high and pure and patted the bear. When Jessica finally turned and spotted her, Willow swallowed a gasp.

  “You’re back!” Jessica said, eyes aglow with demonic light.

  “Where’s your… dress?” Willow managed when she found her voice.

  Tiny blossoms sprouted from Jessica’s touch as she moved closer. “Do you see this?” Jessica asked, brows stitched. “How is this even possible?”

  Willow eyed Jessica’s face. The gruesome wound wept blood and yet it appeared the human felt nothing. The hastily applied scarf lay blood-soaked and long-discarded amidst a patch of giant toadstools.

  “You had no powers before today?”

  “Not a one,” Jessica sang, grabbed Willow’s hands, and brought them to her breast. Then confided—eyes glowing brighter than before— “I’ve never felt like this before. It all started after Braum…”

  In a blink, Jessica’s eyes switched back to gray. She dropped Willow’s hands to clutch her face. “Oh Christ, you have to help. Something’s seriously wrong.”

  Willow helped her sit, understanding that just like that the human was back to herself. She eyed the glen. Strong magic was at play here, fighting for control over this woman’s body.

  “I’m cold.” Jessica shivered, clutched her arms about her body, and began to sob, tears mixing with blood.

  “You’re in shock,” Willow scolded. “Dancing about naked and casting magic doesn’t help when you should be focused on your healing.” She sounded like one of her old schoolmistresses. Calming her tone, she tried again, “Let’s see to your face.”

  After giving it a quick once-over, Willow murmured, “Needs stitches,” and fished out a gold needle and spool of thread from her satchel. “This’ll hurt. Try to hold still.”

  All color faded from Jessica’s cheeks as Willow threaded the needle, but she gave a slight nod and visibly braced herself.

  A quick invocation to the goddess to guide her hand and Willow began to stitch Jessica back together.

  Each time the cold metal inserted into her face, Jessica flinched. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she managed not to faint, though she gagged from the pull of thread as it bound the ragged edges of skin together.

  Once the stitching was complete, Willow wiped bloody fingers on her shirt and looked at Jessica critically. “It’s better than I anticipated. Everything’s back in place, but there will be scarring.”

  Eyes wide and fixed on Willow’s blood-soaked shirt, Jessica reached up to touch the wound.

  “Leave it be.” Willow cautioned and looked about. “I’ll get started on a shelter for tonight. It’ll be dark soon.”

  “I can manage the shelter, I think.” Jessica’s words slurred together as she sank to her knees and placed both hands on the ground. Billowy tufts of grass shot upward as shrubs and trees uprooted themselves to surround them in a protective scrim, blocking the wind roaring up from the cliff-face.

  Uncertainty drawing her face, Willow sat down. “I suppose I’ve seen stranger things today.” She nodded in the direction of the bear. “What about him?”

  Jessica turned, alarm lighting her features, before relaxing. “I think he’s for you.” And though the sun still hovered in the sky, she yawned and fell to her side, instantly asleep.

  Not for me, Willow thought as she looked from the bear to the slumbering woman. Suddenly weary, Willow drifted to her knees. Still recuperating from this morning when Jessica sucked her power away, the hike to and from the dwarf prince, and stitching the wound, she could use a rest, herself. So, without giving the situation any more thought, she tucked in beside Jessica and drifted off.

  ***

  Ellys glanced at Vastian and shook his head in wonder. What could only be called a rain forest sheltered the women lying within its protective boughs. One, a witch and the other Prince Wycliffe’s wayward bride.

  Though they sawed at the foliage with their swords and tore at it with their hands, nothing allowed them to penetrate the thick flora surrounding the women. “The witch is strong,” Ellys whispered, brushing dark hair from his eyes to get a better view, careful to keep his voice low.

  Wycliffe had been beyond anger when he realized the dwarf tricked him and had sent the two of them to retrieve his bride. They were his most trusted men, tasked with the most important jobs, which was why they’d been sent to fetch Jessica from Earth, in the first place.

  Forbidden to go to war with the dwarves over a mere human by his father, their solution had been to ambush the dwarves periodically. Keep them off balance while he and Vastian worked on stealing Jessica back. They’d stayed close to Grayweather these last months, watching and waiting for the right moment.

  Yesterday, panic had crept in when she’d slipped away under their notice. And now, to find her under a witch’s protection and not Braum’s? It didn’t make sense. Still, thank the gods they hadn’t lost her.

  Vastian stiffened suddenly, hand grasping for the hilt of his sword.

  Ellys followed Vastian’s line of sight, and the shadows shifted to reveal the outline of something big moving towards them. Ellys crept backwards, Vastian beside him, making as little sound as possible.

  Branches cracked as a bear stepped into view and paused to sniff the air. Both men paused. Afraid to so much as breathe, Ellys’ hand inched for his sword when the beast suddenly turned towards them, nose twitching.

  A low growl broke the silence.

  “Maybe he can’t see us,” Vastian whispered.

  The bear growled again, pawed the earth, and charged.

  “Run!” Ellys choked and ran, unconcerned if the women heard.

  With the bear on their heels, Ellys scrambled between trees and leapt over bushes, Vastian right behind. Though his legs burned, the bear’s snorting grew closer.

  After flinging himself over a stream and up a small hill, the sounds of pursuit dimmed.

  Ellys turned to see the bear enjoying a cool drink. “Do you think you could get back to that grove and keep an eye on Jessica?” he asked Vastian, panting deeply. “And I’ll head to Britarre and inform Wycliffe of her whereabouts.”

  “Why don’t you go back to Jessica and deal with him?” Vastian asked gruffly.

  “Fair enough, we’ll both go back to Britarre. We know she’s with the witches, she’ll be easy enough to find.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Willow wiped rain from her eyes and surveyed the surrounding foothills. A constant drizzle had followed her and Jessica from the mountains into the borderlands. And hadn’t let up, which suited her fine as it obscured their path, though they were chilled through and muddy up to their knees.

  At first, travel had been slow. Weak from her wounds, Jessica wobbled on her feet and needed constant rest. But after recuperating from the blood loss, she’d upped the pace. In fact, they were almost to the woods that separated dwarven territory from witch.

  But now that they were out in the open, they were more at risk of discovery, and Willow wondered when the dwarves would come for them. When she had mentioned this, Jessica retreated inwardly, saying nothing for hours.

  Despite the complications, Willow needed to learn more about the strange magic—the very reason she’d allowed the human to come home with her. Though how many times she’d bitten her tongue to keep from scolding Jessica to move faster, she didn’t know.
But Jessica drew pale with each step—obviously bothered by the wound on her face. Except for when her eyes shifted from their normal clear gray to that shocking blue. During these times, she seemed to not feel pain and moved fast with Willow rushing to keep up.

  The bear had taken some getting used to. But so far, it simply lumbered alongside Jessica. And except for the constant cracking of fallen leaves under its massive paws, it remained quiet—only occasionally sniffing at Willow.

  They’d named him Chappy. Jessica had wanted to name him Cap, claiming it was the name of her favorite super… hero. Whatever that was. But Willow instantly rejected the suggestion and declared him, Chappy.

  As Willow helped Jessica cross a stream, something caught her eye. She took a moment to consider the human. Something was definitely off. She gripped Jessica’s elbow, trying not to stare, when it hit her, Jessica had changed. Not her appearance, but her very essence. The minute differences wouldn’t be obvious to someone not attuned to such things, but Willow had no doubts Braum and Jessica had wed.

  Willow cursed under her breath and slipped back. It wouldn’t be long now before she became a full-fledged changeling.

  Surreptitiously, she rummaged in her satchel and pulled out a candle stub. She’d cast a glamour upon her. Disguise the fact Jessica was a transitioned human thus avoiding any questions they didn’t want to answer. That she didn’t want to answer. Luckily, she had extensive experience casting glamours, and it was second nature to her, now.

  With a nod, Willow lit the candle.

  Fixated on navigating the slippery path ahead, Jessica paid her no attention.

  With her gaze focused on Jessica’s hair, hanging in wet strands down her back, Willow blew three puffs of smoke Jessica’s way and whispered, “Changeling no longer. Dwarven to be. Form and shape for all to see. By the power of three times three. This is my will, so mote it be.”

  Still raw, she left the wound on Jessica’s face alone, not wanting the glamour to interfere with the healing. And before Jessica was any the wiser, Willow blew out the candle and tucked it away, a thin smile gracing her lips.

  Already Jessica’s changeling aura had faded. To everyone’s eyes, she’d simply appear dwarven.

  Near mid-afternoon, they approached a run-down collection of lean-tos and shacks. The storm had abated and was moving west, towards Grayweather.

  Willow scrutinized Jessica’s face. “Wait here. I’ll get us food.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Jessica’s brows drew together, and a trickle of blood seeped between dark stitches.

  “You’ll only encourage people to ask questions.”

  The girl looked a fright with the massive cut splitting her face. And besides the ghastly wound, Jessica thrummed with unspent power—her eyes still occasionally shifting to mystical blue, despite the glamour. Willow intended to keep the woman with faerie magic to herself.

  “Fine,” Jessica consented and patted the bear’s neck.

  Willow chewed her bottom lip and gazed at the settlement. “There are settlers here, a mix of races and outcasts who don’t fit in anywhere else. They’re suspicious of outsiders.”

  “Sounds like I’d fit right in then,” Jessica grumbled darkly and sank to her knees amongst the yellowing grasses at the edge of the woods. A soft cushion of toadstools sprouted beneath her.

  “How many times must I tell you not to use your powers on frivolities?” Willow snapped and stomped off, muttering to herself about wasting precious energy stores.

  ***

  Face throbbing, Jessica lay on her side, resting against a soft mushroom. Willow scolded her like a child, but how could she tell her she had no control over it? Once the woman was out of sight, Jessica allowed herself to reflect on the last couple days—something she’d avoided doing until now.

  Braum wasn’t dead. That is to say, she hadn’t killed him, at least.

  The moment Braum entered her thoughts, a humming filled her ears and her body tensed. The sudden urge to unleash her powers pricked at her fingertips.

  Get a grip, she scolded herself.

  Her blood pressure dropped from a full boil down to a simmer. She wasn’t ready to think about being Braum’s wife. Not yet. She had to get control of whatever was happening to her, first. Could the strange magic be a result of her transition?

  She rolled on her back and stretched both hands out, looking for signs she’d changed into a dwarf. She appeared the same—long fingers, dirty nails. But Braum had said the change would be something others could sense rather than see. She eyed her fingers again, this time looking for something else. Sparks, maybe?

  Skimming her palms over the faded grass, yellow blades turned green and dried flowers perked up. She picked a daisy and clenched the stem, hating the helplessness consuming her.

  “Ouch!” She dropped the flower and brought her finger to her mouth. Sucking gently at the throbbing digit, she stared at the thorn that had sprouted from her touch.

  At least her finger wasn’t bleeding. She wasn’t in the mood for Willow to scold her about something else. That woman had some nerve, bossing her around… and helping her when she needed somebody more than ever. Tears brimmed, and she hastily brushed them away. This was no time to feel sorry for herself.

  Using her undamaged hand, she fanned her face. “Could be a bit cooler, for autumn.”

  Her hair ruffled suddenly, lifting off her neck as a sweet-smelling wind swept up.

  Coincidence, right?

  Chappy shifted beside her, resting in one of the clusters of toadstools that seemed to pop up everywhere.

  Magic, her mind whispered. Goosebumps dotted her arms. Rocks, plants, and now wind.

  With Braum, she’d lost all restraint and let the magic direct her. Somehow, she had to regain her self-control.

  Her head whipped to the side as Willow trudged up the hill, grumbling, “Superstitious bunch of ignorant morons,” and plopped next to Jessica, her hair seeming alive as it fluttered in the wind.

  Willow’s green eyes, the color of spring wheat, turned soft upon seeing her, and Jessica swiped the tears from her cheek.

  “You alright?” Willow asked, her voice uncharacteristically tender.

  “Fine,” Jessica managed a wan smile. “Just coming to terms with things.”

  Willow barked a surprised laugh. “So, that’s what you’re calling it then, things?” She shook her head and tossed down a burlap sack, revealing something that wasn’t possibly food.

  Jessica’s back stiffened. “What’s this?”

  “Lunch.”

  They ate what could only be head cheese, and between bites, Willow drew a map in the dirt. “We’re going the long way home to avoid the witches at Outer Moonstone.”

  Jessica listened, trying to absorb everything Willow said about their journey. But as she did, she couldn’t help but think about Braum and if he’d managed to escape. Oh, Christ, did he hate her for what she’d done to him—her heart pounded painfully within her chest—because she hated herself.

  CHAPTER 15

  The sun bore down upon Braum, drying his mouth, cracking his lips. He’d grown accustomed to the pressure on his chest, though every breath pained him. It was as if he had to fight against the weight of a mountain for each lungful of air. He supposed he did.

  How long he’d been trapped, he couldn’t be sure but knew he should be dead by now. In the afternoon heat, he yearned for the peace of death, for his suffering to end. Each breath he drew took more energy than his broken body possessed, and yet, here he remained—in a state of agony, unable to do anything to save himself or the woman he loved. Had it been the witch’s doing, keeping him alive? Or had it been Jessica, eager to punish him? Insidious whispers inside his head told him he deserved his fate for what he’d done.

  More than anything, Jessica’s absence haunted him; wrenched the inside of his chest. Still, he couldn’t help longing for the touch of her hand on his face. Until a moment later when he couldn’t help but hate her for what she’d done.


  Throat raw with thirst, he sent prayers of thanks heavenward when the rains began to fall. A small divot near his face collected water and allowed him a sip every few minutes. But it didn’t take long before his teeth began to chatter as icy water sluiced down his flesh, stealing the day’s warmth.

  Teeth grinding, he strained against the weight holding him down but soon slumped. He couldn’t get free—not on his own, anyway. But if he didn’t, how much longer could he survive? As he wracked his brain for a solution, he paused, hearing something through the pounding rain.

  The sound of men.

  Though the weight of the stones prevented him from moving, still he tried sucking in a deep breath, needing to call out. Instead, violent coughs wracked his body, leaving him gasping and retching from the pain in his chest. The sounds of footsteps moved closer. After a minute, he realized they were calling his and Jessica’s names.

  “I’m here!” he rasped, the sound barely above a whisper. If only he could get more air into his lungs. They weren’t far, just at the top of the rift. The same rift he sat pinned against.

  The voices dimmed.

  His heart pounded and eyes fogged, and he thought he might pass out from the effort to shout. Would they march right past? He tried again. To his own ears, the words sounded dim, drowned out by the rain, and swallowed by rock. “I’m here, dammit! In the ravine!”

  “Braum?” There was a long pause. “Did you hear that? Braum, is that you?”

  Griffin! Braum’s heart leapt. “Grif, I’m trapped. Down below!” His eyes closed in relief as he listened to the men scrambling towards him.

  “What the hell?”

  Braum opened weary eyes to see his friend’s back. Grif hadn’t seen him yet. Belatedly, he realized that Grif hadn’t cursed because of Braum’s predicament, but because of the destruction where the stream had once been.

  “For god’s sake, Grif,” he choked, fighting the overwhelming need to sob. After wishing for his own demise for days, he was now so bloody thankful to be alive. To have one more chance.