Without pausing to think about what she was doing, Katy threw her arms around his neck. “It’s Katy. Call me Katy.”
His arms tightened around her as well. And though Katy’s first thought was to let go and push away, she didn’t. Her heart was too caught up with Peter to find it alluring, of course.
But with time, maybe one day she might.
44
If Not Him...
No one said anything as they approached the cave’s entrance, but the change in atmosphere was palpable. Meeting the waterfall had given them direction if nothing else. Upon finding Calmarid, Peter had dared to hope. But now that they stood before the cave, Peter felt dangerously close to joy.
“We’ll stay at the mouth for the night,” he said as he dismounted. “Then we’ll venture through tomorrow.”
The men nodded their assent and began to unpack. Peter threw himself into gathering wood with a new gusto, his heart beating faster all the while. They were getting so close. He could feel it in the air. The magic here was thick and heavy, like breathing in water-laden air on a humid summer day.
As Peter gathered wood, Carey walked up.
“I have a question, sire.”
Peter tried to cover his surprise at the quiet man’s question by focusing on his work. “What’s that?” he asked, searching the ground without looking up.
“After we find this olc, what then?”
What then, indeed. But Peter refused to let his spirit be troubled, not when they were this close.
“I’m going to talk with it.”
“Talk?” Carey blinked. “With the olc?”
“If Katy is capable of reason, and she is, beyond most humans I know, then this forest fellow should be as well.” Peter expected some sort of objection at this idea, but to his surprise, Carey simply nodded.
“What will you offer him?”
“Well,” Peter stood and looked at the size of his wood pile, “for one, we need to rewrite some of the laws. In fact, we will rewrite some of the laws. It can’t be a crime to simply exist.”
Again, Carey merely nodded and followed Peter as they walked back toward the cave. “Think he’ll listen?”
“I shall pray he does. And in the meantime, I shall be thinking up shiny reasons for him not to kill me.”
“Sire?” Carey stopped walking. Peter stopped as well and turned, his heart suddenly beating unevenly for a different reason. His men had followed him this far against their better judgment. Was he asking too much of them now? Was this the tipping point?
To his surprise, Carey finally cracked a small, rare smile. “You’re a good man, Your Highness.”
Peter found himself floundering for words as the big knight turned and stared off into the east. Before he was able to pull himself back together, however, Carey’s smile disappeared, and his eyes grew wide. “Get to the cave!”
“What?”
Carey pointed at the horizon, above the caverns they were standing in front of. When Peter turned, he lost whatever words had been on his tongue. The sky, which moments ago had been the natural purple of evening, was now the colors of flame and ash.
“Everyone inside! Go!” Peter shouted. The men grabbed their horses’ reins and pulled them inside until everyone was deep enough to be safe from any brush that might catch an ember. Only then was Carey daring enough to pull a torch from the pack and light it.
“What do you think started it?” Tomas asked as they stared out at the forest, waiting for it to burst into flames.
“There haven’t even been any clouds about,” Domnhall said, rubbing his stubbly jaw. “So it wasn’t lightning.”
Peter stayed quiet, but he had a sickening feeling in his stomach. The fire was far enough that he couldn’t be certain. As the first bit of ash had blown their way, however, as he’d run to the cave, there had been a sense of familiarity to it. Magic was at work in this, and unfortunately, it was magic that felt much too familiar.
But how had Katy started a fire on the southeastern corner of the isle if she was at the castle?
“Benjamin, what are you doing?” Tomas called out. Everyone turned to see Benjamin already halfway down the tunnel to its next turn.
“Get back here,” Peter yelled.
“What for?” Benjamin called back.
“We don’t know what might live here,” Peter added. Then he looked at the others. “Carey and I will scout up ahead. You all wait here until we return.”
“It might,” Domnhall glanced outside again, “be prudent to wait until morning when we know these caverns won’t be filled with smoke.”
Peter sighed and nodded. “You’re right. We’ll wait until morning then.”
“Set up camp here?” Tomas called from the entrance.
“Let’s do it.”
A small fire was started just at the edge of the cave, and Peter and Domnhall unpacked their supper while the others stood at the mouth of the cave, watching.
It wasn’t long, however, until Carey spoke. “It’s going to rain.”
“How do you know that?” Benjamin asked.
“I can feel it.”
Sure enough, within half a minute, a downpour had completely drenched the woods around them.
“Well, isn’t that convenient now?” Tomas ran back inside and shook the rain out of his hair. “This raincloud is just wide enough to cover exactly the amount of forest that was touched by the fires.” He shook his head as he sat down at the fire with the others. “Don’t understand these places. Never will.”
Peter exchanged a glance with Carey, but neither of them spoke, and Peter knew Carey felt it, too. The hair on the back of his neck prickled as the rain continued to fall. This was another magic, one he had felt before as well. He would have been glad to know their olc was up ahead, and that they were traveling in the right direction, if only Katy’s magic hadn’t been so close as well. Something was very wrong.
Supper was soon cooked, and as they ate, the talk drifted from the cause of such a large sudden fire and its subsequent dousing to the way their bread was growing stale, but Peter paid them little heed. All he could think about was the seven remaining days in which he had not only to return but have the answer to Katy’s salvation as well. And now this, as if he needed any more complications.
What are you doing? he asked Atharo.
“…been thinking about what you said, Domnhall.” Benjamin’s voice broke through Peter’s thoughts, much to Peter’s annoyance. As a general rule, he did his best to avoid hearing Benjamin at all.
“And what has that brought you?”
Benjamin kicked back on his makeshift boulder chair and smiled. “You’re right. I need to start thinking more like a man.” He paused and looked at everyone, his gaze lingering on Peter the longest. “I’m sorry for the way I’ve acted. You were right. I’ve been immature and spoiled.”
Peter and Domnhall glanced at one another. Domnhall looked hopeful, but Peter wasn’t convinced.
“So what will you be doing to rectify your actions?” He leaned back and stared at the young man.
“When we get back, provided we don’t all die first, I’m going to settle down. No more nights out drinking. No more women in the tavern. And I’m going to train more than ever.”
“There is hope for this one yet.” Tomas raised his waterskin. “A toast to common sense. May it ever be with you.”
The others chuckled, even Peter, until Benjamin spoke once more.
“And I’m going to propose to Katrin.”
Peter didn’t recall dropping his food or even leaping to his feet, but when he looked down, his bread lay broken on the ground, and his men were staring up at him with wary eyes.
All except the stupid boy.
Benjamin was still talking by the time Peter had taken the two steps to close the distance between them.
“You will do no such thing.”
Benjamin blinked. “Why not?” He glanced at the others, but no one moved to intervene. “Has someone else spoken
for her?”
“You’re not to go near her.”
The young man’s face darkened. “Are you truly forbidding me from courting her?”
“Do I look as if I am jesting?”
Benjamin stood, and though his height wasn’t as impressive as Peter’s, he was certainly heavier. “Since when do you tell me what woman I can or can’t romance?”
“Since he was born prince,” Carey muttered.
“I don’t give a flying rock what you do or don’t do on your own time,” Peter growled. “But you’ll stay away from her.”
Benjamin stared for a long moment before glaring at the ground. When he spoke, it was slow and measured. “And, pray tell, just what is so wrong with my romancing her?”
Carey snorted, and Tomas gave a strange cough.
“I have seen you woo women,” Domnhall said dryly. “I don’t believe your methods are the prince’s concern so much as the object.”
Benjamin turned back to Peter. “But you’ve got Lady Saraid. Surely you can’t want both of them!”
Peter balled his fists. Only the vague awareness of Domnhall’s grounding hand on his shoulder prevented him from knocking some sense into the boy. “You may put on a good show when you’re with us, but we both know the way you treat women,” he growled, doing his best to glare holes into the young man’s skull.
“And how would you—”
“You’re training to be one of the king’s most trusted knights, and you think I haven’t been watching you? Particularly at the taverns?”
Benjamin just scowled, so Peter leaned closer.
“I will have none of your tripe anywhere near Katy as long as I’m alive. So stay away from her.” He bent down so they were eye-to-eye. “And if you disobey me, I will make your life a living hell. Do you understand?”
Benjamin glared up at him, but after a few tugs from Tomas, who was suddenly at his side, the young man nodded once before stomping out to the mouth of the cave where he folded his arms and stared at the rain.
After a long moment of making sure he’d had the last word, Peter began to sit again, but was stopped by Domnhall.
“I’d like to see if the cave is a bit drier farther in. Would you join me?”
Peter sent one last look of disgust at the squire before following the older knight. Neither spoke until they were a good fifty feet from the others, just close enough for the light of the fire to keep them from tripping over the stalagmites dotting the cave floor.
“Do you mind if I ask you a question, sire?” Domnhall finally said in a low voice.
“Depends on what that question would be.” Peter was in no mood to discuss Benjamin or whatever mercy he should probably give.
“What exactly do you have envisioned for young Miss Katrin’s future?”
Peter stopped and studied his friend’s face. “Why?”
Domnhall shrugged. “I’ll be the first to vouch that young Benjamin is fit to be no one’s husband at this point in time. But I’m curious, if Benjamin isn’t good enough for her, who is?”
The question was not one Peter had expected. Benjamin? Most certainly not. Not now and not ever. While certain thoughts about women had flitted across Peter’s mind from time to time, thoughts that he was always immediately ashamed of, Benjamin’s raucous boasting about his exploits had never ceased to disgust him.
But really, was there any man Peter could trust with thoughts of Katy? Even as a husband ought to think of his wife?
Peter shuddered. Especially not with those kind of thoughts.
“I hope I am not being too bold, sire,” Domnhall said gently, “when I suggest that perhaps there is more to your relationship with young Katrin than you’ve previously supposed.”
“We grew up together. She’s like a sister to me.”
Domnhall raised one silver-flecked eyebrow. “You say she is like a sister, but you cannot bear to think of her with another.” Then, more kindly, he added, “Perhaps it is time for you to reconsider what this girl is to you.”
Peter stared at him, his throat suddenly thick. The memory of Katy’s face that last night, so sweet and full of sorrow, was fresh in his mind once again.
I only ever knew one boy, Peter.
Why did it make his stomach twist and his heart ache whenever he recalled those words?
“You might have known her as a little girl,” Domnhall continued, “but she is that little girl no longer. And if you will not have her…if you are determined to marry Saraid, then would it be fair to deny Katrin all chances of marital happiness because you cannot bear to let go of childhood sentiments?” He sighed and looked down at his feet. “I’m just an old man, and my wife can tell you that more often than not, I’m a fool. But I’m a fool who is married to my dearest friend. And if I didn’t have her, I can guarantee you that my life would be a mere shadow of the one it is today.” He began to walk back to the camp. “Just something to think about,” he called back over his shoulder.
Long after Domnhall had gone, Peter stayed in the cold dampness of the shadows.
That he loved Katy there was no doubt. He had loved her his entire life. But never had he needed to think about how he loved her. Sister. Playmate. His conscience and his keeper, she had been everything to him. It was the reason he had spent eight long years tormenting himself with the constant training so that he might be ready to go back one day and save her from Odhran and his men.
As Peter stared into the dripping black depths of the cave, he wondered what it would feel like to touch her beyond a playful shove or a polite dance. How would it feel to reach out and take her by the waist just to hold her near? Or caress her jaw and let his fingers trace her lips?
What would it feel like to kiss her?
Peter stopped himself before his mind could wander too far down that path. As much as he wished to know the answers tonight, he’d had far too little sleep to make such decisions. Still, no matter how he considered it, Peter knew he would never see Katy in the same light again.
45
Risk
Peter awoke to the hairs prickling on the back of his neck. He hardly had time for his vision to come into focus before scrambling out of the way. Misshapen horns cracked the cave floor where he had been sleeping moments before. Peter had his sword drawn in a flash, but he quickly realized it wouldn’t be enough. The beast was not alone.
There were five in all, a buck, three does, and a fawn. But these were no ordinary deer. The buck was more heavily muscled than any Peter had ever seen. His horns were jagged and uneven, thick and tangled like a bramble, and so heavy they weighed his head down. He snorted at Peter through nearly opaque eyes of milk blue. The does, though slightly smaller, weren’t much less muscled, nor were they gentle, meek creatures. With horns of their own, much closer to the size of normal bucks’, they looked nearly as fierce as the male. Only the fawn seemed unable to inflict any harm. Peter wasn’t even quite convinced of that, however, for the light in its eyes was a little too bright.
The knights were all awake as well by now, standing in a circle as they faced off with the deer.
“Carey,” Tomas called softly, “where’s your crossbow?”
“In my saddle.” Carey sounded livid.
Peter glanced over to where they had tied the horses and wanted to groan. Loosing arrows from Carey’s crossbow would have been much safer than taking on the animals by sword, but the deer had come close enough that they stood between the men and their horses, and the buck was pawing the ground as they waited. Peter gripped his sword harder, ignoring the sweat that was dripping down his fingers, wishing he’d gone to sleep wearing his gloves. Only then did it dawn on him.
“Where’s Benjamin?” he called out in a low voice.
The others glanced around, but no one said a word. Either their squire, who was supposed to be on watch, was somewhere in the shadows, hopefully unconscious, or something far more dire had happened to him.
Peter felt the buck rush a second before it actually did. He
barely had time to pivot and roll before it charged over the place he’d been standing. Turning just in time as it came again, he raised his sword above his head. The blade bit flesh, and the buck reared back and let out a scream that tore through the night. At the sound of his scream, the does charged as well, slashing the air with their hooves and waving their antlers. Tomas yelled something and Domnhall responded, but Peter couldn’t make out their words. Peter held his sword up just as the buck brought his antlers down over him. A sharp pain throbbed in his cheek as he sliced away at the tangle of horns, but miraculously, he was not impaled.
The antlers were difficult to cut, particularly as the buck brought them down upon him again and again. Eventually, after endless chopping and hacking, he was able to cut enough away to escape. As he rolled out, he narrowly dodged a doe’s stamping hooves. Seeing the opportunity, he rolled once more time and stabbed upward. The doe began to collapse, so with one last kick, Peter sent the beast crashing to its side.
Tomas had just pulled him to his feet when Peter’s side exploded with pain and his feet left the floor. Shock jarred his body as he landed against the slick cavern wall and slumped to the floor like a rag doll. Shouts sounded, but Peter couldn’t make sense of where they were coming from. He could hear hoofbeats grow closer, however, and Peter knew the animal would take no pity.
Despite the way his head was still spinning, he tried to get up only to tumble back down again. Only then did he see Benjamin standing wide-eyed behind the buck, which was lowering its head and pawing at the ground again.
“Benjamin!” he rasped. “Now! While he’s looking at me!”
Benjamin didn’t move. But the buck did.
Peter reached inside himself one last time as he threw up his sword. He had to use his magic. It was now or never. Surely now, Atharo! he prayed. But as he dove down into the depths of his heart, Peter not only failed to call up the magic, but he felt a hardness within himself, like a callous on the inside. Closing his eyes, he prepared himself for the agonizing death that was sure to come.
The Autumn Fairy Page 33
