Cautiously, I peered outside. I could just make out Tolliver fending off three Latule men. Faxon, his own sword freed, crouched on the other side of the dying fire, watching in all directions. When he saw me, he sprang to his feet and grabbed my hand.
“What’s going on?” I tried to shout over the din.
The chaos of our ambushed camp ground swallowed Faxon’s answer, if he had actually made one. We wove around fires, skirmishes, and people - somehow sleeping — on the ground. My stomach dropped like a lead weight when I realized what had really happened to them.
Faxon didn’t stop until we reached a lone horse, its bridle looped around a high tree branch. “How fortunate. I thought they had taken them all,” Faxon muttered, stroking the horse’s neck. “Get on, Princess.”
“I’m not -”
“I know. But until Fiona is found, we must protect you as though you were. And it’s time you remembered your role. You are not in Valeriya anymore.”
“What about Tolliver?”
“He can handle himself. No more stalling now.” Faxon freed the bridle and stood, waiting, with it in one hand, the other on his hip.
“Can you give me…a boost?” I asked, feeling my cheeks flaming with embarrassment.
Faxon sighed, a worthy gust from such a windbag. I pictured him rolling his eyes dramatically.
Nearby, a man screamed, and there was a terrible crash. I clamped down on my imagination, but not before I pictured trees falling, carriages overturned, and everyone on the Autumnstead side killed.
The horse whinnied and danced around uneasily.
“Easy, girl. Easy,” Faxon murmured to the horse, moving a reassuring hand from her neck to her side as we came around.
Faxon’s help did not mean a free ride. I had to work with his wiry strength to get on the horse’s back. Once I had gotten as comfortable as I could, he sprang nimbly behind me.
The slender man had barely seated himself when five Latules appeared from between the trees.
“Don’t let them get away!” shouted one carrying a torch. Its light glinted on their golden armor.
“Damn!” Faxon leaned forward, practically crushing me against the horse’s neck, and snatched up the reins. The soldiers circled us. Faxon’s sword whistled through the air. I tried to make myself as small as possible, hoping my protector wouldn’t slash me by accident. The armored men drew back; Faxon’s sword was at the same height as their faces. This gave Faxon time to dig his heels into the horse’s sides. And we were off, plowing through our enemies like a bowling ball through pins.
Despite that triumphant start, our flight through the woods involved a lot of start and stop due to the dark, trees, and treacherous ground. For the most part, we barely broke a trot.
The entire time, Faxon had the reins, which meant his arms were around me, while his chest pressed into my back. While I’m sure he didn’t think anything of it, it was still weird for me. Though if I could have chosen to ride with Tolliver in this fashion, I might have… Tolliver!
In the difficulty escaping our campground, I had forgotten him. I hoped he was okay. When I’d last seen him, he seemed to to be winning against the Latule soldiers. Of course, anything could have happened since Faxon and I had been gone. And how had Queen Arencaster fared? Had she been taken prisoner? Or worse…
I hoped the queen were not dead or missing when we got back to the castle. I had no desire to play at being Princess Fiona in a time of war. I twisted my hands together nervously in the horse’s mane. That could be disastrous! I knew nothing of war or strategy.
Also disturbing, and still fresh in memory in the the nightmarish darkness, was my dream. Did dreams mean more in the Other World? If so, what could it have signified?
Now was not the time to ask Faxon, I decided. Not while we still sought a way out of this maze of dark woods.
As I could do little to help Faxon navigate (if he was at all like Gerry, he wouldn’t welcome the advice), I turned my thoughts to deciphering the dream. My efforts produced nothing useful. With the turmoil of the ambush behind us, fatigue crept back in to cloud my mind.
Faxon, luckily, had more success navigating out of the forest. We broke free just as dawn shone blue on the snow.
“Where are we?” I asked Faxon.
The blonde man spent a long time surveying the open land beyond the trees before answering. Finally he shook his head. “I can’t tell.” He sounded worried. “On our way to the capital, we went around Latule through Ivenbury and almost as far as the Dusty Mountains to the south. But it delayed us several weeks. The queen wanted to return to Autumnstead quickly so she could lead the war effort, so we chanced travel through the forest. We’ve made so many twists and turns, I’ve become rather disoriented.” He turned, searching the sky for some sign. “There.” Some of the tension went out of Faxon’s shoulders. “That star is Zellia. It always points the way north.”
Like the North Star, I thought.
“Ultimately we must go north. But it would be wise to keep to the south and west as long as possible,” Faxon mused.
I wondered how many miles we’d gone astray and how long it would take to return to the castle. How did Autumnstead fare in the war? Had King Pharris’s troops started on their way? Despite the urgency of our situation, sleep kept tempting me, dragging my eyelids down and occasionally making my head drop like a cannonball from a cliff. Once, I nearly tumbled out of the saddle. Only Faxon’s throwing his arm out at the last minute kept me from falling. At this point, he actually stopped the horse and turned back to appraise me. “You should rest,” he said.
I had no objections about that. The question was where. Behind us lay the forest we’d spent all night escaping, and the lands beyond were flat and open, with hills in the distance. Anyone might see us from far off. It gave me an eerie feeling between my shoulders.
“I will keep watch,” Faxon said as though he perceived my thoughts.
“But Faxon,” I protested, “You haven’t slept much, either.”
“This is my duty as a soldier,” Faxon said resolutely. “I can protect us if something happens. But you, well…” He didn’t need to say more to communicate how useless he thought I’d be.
I was too tired to care much. We found shelter by some trees, white specters waiting at the edge of the forest. Faxon spread the single blanket among the horse’s baggage for me on the snow. Even folded twice, it became damp quickly.
I would get to experience sleeping in the snow firsthand, I thought wryly as he worked. No matter the weather, I didn’t camp. Gerry had tried to persuade me many times, but he’d never succeeded.
I unwrapped my mementos of Gerry and started to use the blanket to huddle in until I saw Faxon pacing with his arms crossed. “Here,” I said, holding it out to him. I felt good about my deed for about five minutes until the shivers overtook me.
Faxon finished pacing in one direction, noticed my pathetic state, and shook his head. “You’re hopeless,” he said. It appeared that was the end of our conversation; the blonde man turned his attention to our horse. Then I realized he was unfastening the saddle to get at the blanket, which he handed to me. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not much. But it’s better than nothing.”
I smiled. “Thank you, Faxon.” I fell asleep as the deep blue shadows gave way to violet, then to a color that reminded me of orchids.
I drifted from darkness to dreams, in which I returned to the Latule woods, to the fire Faxon and Tolliver had built. There, too, I slept but was still able to see myself, while Faxon, and Tolliver watched the camp. Shouts rang out in trees nearby. Tolliver drew his sword, called to his comrades. Screams of pain and the clash of steel answered him. Latule soldiers materialized from the air and surrounded Tolliver. The dark-haired man drove a few of them back, but ultimately, he was outnumbered.
“Faxon! Leah!” he called as the soldiers closed in. Still I slept. I fought to awaken myself, shouted, pleaded, all uselessly. Latule soldiers drove Tolliver to his knees. Before
I could determine his fate, they kicked the fire out, sending a rain of flaming sticks right for Faxon and me.
I woke with a gasp. It was a welcome relief to open my eyes, but I had to shut them again in a hurry. Sunlight sparkled off the snow in blinding white. It must be nearly midday. What an awful dream! I took a deep breath and attempted another look at my surroundings, cracking just one eye this time. That was a little better. For a wonder, I didn’t feel overly cold, despite the curious absence of a fire. When we’d first stopped, I’d been about to advocate huddling together in a ball: Faxon, the horse, and me.
Draping the itchy saddle blanket Faxon had given me over my head to form a cowl and shade my eyes, I trudged through the ankle-deep snow over to Faxon. The lithe man sat under a tree with his head resting on his knees. His sword lay beside him at the ready, but he looked so worn out, I wondered if he’d have the energy to jump up and wield it if something happened.
I wished I could go back to sleep and feel rested. Castle Autumnstead, even Fiona’s lumpy bed, would seem like a luxury hotel after my night out in the snow. With any luck, Faxon and I would return to Autumnstead today, and I could resume impersonating the princess said to look just like me.
An image of the dragon rider flashed before my eyes, of my face beneath the horned helmet.
What if the woman in the dream hadn’t been me, but Fiona, the princess who’d lurked in the shadows since I’d been here? What was she doing in her wanderings, anyway? No one else seemed to know. Had she brought Gerry to this world, knowing I’d follow?
Possibilities swept me along in their swift current. Still, I would wait to bring it up. Faxon looked like my Portalis supervisors (the old crusty ones) before they’d had their morning coffee. It was an unspoken rule among the underlings never to bother them before the third pot was brewing.
Resuming the journey restored Faxon to alertness, somewhat.
We traveled til midafternoon, then stopped to eat some of the dried fruit and meat from saddlebag. As we did, I told Faxon about the dream I’d had right before the ambush. “What if it means Princess Fiona has been hiding out all this time as the dragon rider?” I felt a little proud of my conclusion. All too often, especially the past few days, I felt like useless baggage to be carted here and there. I wanted to contribute something to the war effort too, perhaps some uncanny insight. However, Faxon’s reaction was anything but what I’d imagined.
“That can’t be! Princess Fiona would never hurt someone, especially if they were defenseless! I would stake my life on it.” Faxon sounded…angry.
I didn’t get what his problem was. I couldn’t help what I dreamed, right?
“How can you believe something so terrible about someone you haven’t met?” Faxon demanded.
In my world, people did all the time. It was called online shaming. I knew better than to go off on that tangent. Still, I didn’t want Faxon to think I trying to stir up drama. I wasn’t that kind of person. “Listen, Faxon,” I said in my mellowest voice, “I don’t believe one way or another.” Though Faxon’s attitude was really suspicious. “I just wanted to bring it up. Your world is different from mine. At home, we don’t have magic, among other things. Is it possible that dreams have special meaning here?”
“Maybe your dream is telling you that you’re responsible for what happened to your intended. Did you ever think of that?”
His retort cut deep. For a moment, I had to look away from Faxon while my eyes teared. When I was certain they weren’t going to reveal just how much he’d hurt me, I jerked my head back up and glared at him with wrath I reserved for the worst drivers. “What’s with you?” I growled. “Are you Fiona’s secret admirer or something? Why do you keep covering up for her?” Oh God, now I had done it. The thoughts had leaped out of my mouth like a big slime-covered toad, and I could never catch it and put it back.
“Do not speak of this again, you, you outsider!” Faxon shouted, his fair face reddening. “You don’t understand anything about this land, her people, or what they need!”
Faxon had won. I ran behind the trees. Once I was certain of privacy, I cried, not just for our argument — I still didn’t understand how it had come about — but for the uncertainty of war, my worry for Tolliver, missing the sunshine and blue skies of California, and of course, Gerry. How could Faxon say such a cruel, insensitive thing about my dream? The only person who knew my loss more keenly was Tolliver. I hadn’t meant any harm by telling Faxon about my dream; I’d only been trying to help!
Snow crunched behind me. It really hadn’t been wise to run off on my own, even if this were the middle of nowhere. It was only Faxon, painfully red-eyed.
“Leah…” Faxon rubbed his eyes. “I spoke harshly. I apologize.” Standing tall, with his head raised in an almost haughty way, Faxon offered no excuse. These were facts he gave me, and nothing more.
“Accepted,” I said in a small voice. “I would like to say sorry as well. I brought up matters I did not understand.”
Faxon only nodded. I guessed that was the best His Arrogance could do.
Chill out, I coaxed myself. We were still a long way from Castle Autumnstead, and I needed Faxon to protect me. But once we got back, I hoped we could disappear into different parts of the castle and get away from each other for a while.
Despite our apologies, we did not speak beyond the bare necessities. Faxon was a little like an officer commanding his subordinate. I accepted this because he knew the land and how fighting men thought. I had little to contribute and had no wish to set him off again. Who knew what he might interpret as criticism? There was no need for discussion when he knew more, and I, very little.
Despite knowing we were going the long way to avoid Latule, I wondered if we could have wandered into their lands anyway. With snow covering everything and making it look unfamiliar, it was certainly a possibility. I wanted to ask Faxon, but didn’t dare after our argument about Fiona.
By the day’s end, the landscape had changed very little. Faxon and I made camp by another group of trees, giving me a strange sense of déjà vu.
My head hurt, and my eyes felt dried out from fatigue. But if I were tired, Faxon was exhausted. His dismount from our horse (whom I’d secretly named “Bella”) was more of a fall with style. He got to his feet slowly, as though he’d have preferred to stay kneeling in the snow. This, along with his swaying in the saddle, gave me the courage to speak up for the first time since our argument.
“You sleep first, Faxon.”
“A soldier can go days without sleep,” Faxon said in a zombified monotone.
“Please, Faxon,” I whispered. I only had so much courage. “I’ll feel so much safer if you’re in fighting shape.”
Faxon drew his sword and turned to me, a startling intensity in his gray eyes. “If I rest, you must stand guard. It’s too dangerous for both of us to sleep at the same time.”
I refrained from pointing out that there had been no signs of pursuit. On second thought, Latule had given no warning when they accosted us in the woods, either. “I can do it.”
“It won’t work if you only stare in one direction. Doing that is no better than sleeping. Take time to scan the horizon in all directions. If you sight Latule early, and you should be able to in this open area, wake me.”
I nodded vigorously, hoping to make Faxon see that I understood the importance of my task. His face remained serious, however, and he gave no indication that he had confidence in me.
“There is one thing I must do before I sleep. Gather sticks for a small fire.”
I frowned. “You didn’t let me have a fire last night.” Never mind that Faxon hadn’t benefited from one, either. “Aren’t you worried it will be sighted?”
Faxon heaved a gusty sigh. “So this is the great magical education of Valeriya.”
“Huh?” I didn’t like this feeling that Faxon was insulting me.
“You didn’t think I’d let you sleep through a snowy night without help, did you? You’d freeze.” F
axon raised his eyebrow. “That’s another reason we’re camping by trees again. While you slept, I gathered enough sticks for a small fire. Then I used elemental magic -”
“To draw out the heat and wrap it around you and me!” I cut him off. “Sorry. I got excited when I realized what you meant.”
“But if you know all that, why didn’t you catch on to what I was telling you?” Faxon crossed his arms, reminding me of Professor Tala.
“I only spent a few months at Valeriya. I just learned the basics.” To avoid his scrutiny, I busied myself looking for sticks and tried to appear unconcerned. “Anyway, I’m surprised that a soldier would know elemental magic. Unless…did you attend Valeriya too?”
Faxon laughed. “Only the fortunate attend schools such as Valeriya.”
My thoughts turned at once to Callie and Jen. They were hardly wealthy or well-connected. Not wanting to argue with Faxon again, I said instead, “How did you learn it then?”
Now Faxon became inexplicably absorbed in picking up sticks. “You learn a few things working with other soldiers, the seasoned campaigners. Tricks that make marches and battles and camping easier,” he said vaguely.
Maybe he was more fortunate than he cared to admit, I thought. Whatever.
Faxon started the doll-sized fire, then looked at me expectantly. “Command the element while I set up the blankets.”
“Actually, Faxon, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I stammered. This was one of those times it was best to spit it out. “The fact is, I kinda suck at elements.”
“You…what?”
He wouldn’t know that word, I reflected, taking a deep breath. “I’m terrible at them,” I explained. Despite the cold, my cheeks flushed. “If I try to warm us, I’ll probably set us both on fire.”
“You could just admit you haven’t gotten it yet,” Faxon said with unexpected softness. “I won’t leave you, and I don’t bite.”
His first statement comforted me, though I doubted the truth of the second.
“I’ll do it, then. Wake me when the fire goes out and I’ll make another one for you,” Faxon said.
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