by May Dawson
I tripped backward over a tree branch, stumbled, let myself go down. I threw my sword as I fell, as if my blood-slicked fingers were too weak to hang onto it.
The Shadow Man was focused on me, after all. I was the prey he’d been sent to kill.
He raised his sword above his head for the killing blow. I stared up at him, waiting for the strike to start, waiting until the last second to roll out of the way so he wouldn’t have time to alter the course of that furious strike. I didn’t dare look for them, but I couldn’t see or hear Azrael or Duncan.
It felt like the Shadow Man and I were the last Fae left alive.
Maybe, after all I’d done to them, Azrael and Duncan could leave me here to die.
It was my family’s own monster that was about to strike my head from my shoulders, after all.
Just before the Shadow Man could strike his blow, his face changed. Azrael’s sword slashed his Achilles, slicing his tendons open. As the Shadow Man fell toward me, I scrambled to one side.
Duncan stepped into the space where I’d been, his own sword arching up to take off the Shadow Man’s head.
The Shadow Man’s body fell between them. Then it shimmered, dissolving into nothing more than an oily streak in the air. Then even that was gone.
Azrael plunged to his knees beside me. “Where are you hurt?”
“Just my arm,” I said. I hissed as he touched my bloodied arm.
“We need to heal you enough to get back to the keep.” Azrael’s hands pressed the wound.
“What happened? Who did you face in the caves?” Duncan demanded.
I hesitated to tell them. “I didn’t win.” My words came out a whisper. “I don’t have my memories.”
“You have to go back,” Duncan said, his voice steely.
Azrael shot him a look, his hand lightly covering my wound. “That’s not how the Cursed Caves work.”
Then he muttered a word, and his painful magic bled into my skin. I bit my lip, wrenching back a cry of pain.
“Fuck, it’s the same poison.” Az didn’t have to say Tiron’s name; he was obviously still worried about him, and now he was worried about me too. “It’s not healing right.”
“She can’t fail,” Duncan insisted. “We came all this way. Tiron—”
His voice was hot, and he broke off, as if he hated hearing any emotion. With his usual cool control, he said, “We put so many people in danger along our path. And for what? Now Faer will be hunting all of us. He might go after Zora—”
The wound had stopped bleeding, but it still burned. Azrael patted my arm, the gesture comforting. Somehow that kindness made my heart ache far more than Duncan’s temper.
“I don’t need to be the old Alisa to stop him,” I promised.
Duncan scoffed at that.
“At least the Shadow Man is gone,” Azrael said. “One thing at a time.”
He gave me an encouraging smile, even though he looked drawn and exhausted. Dirt smudged his handsome face, and there were dark circles under his eyes.
“About that,” Duncan said, and there was something urgent in his usual dry tone.
I looked up to see the forest alive around us with more shadows.
The Shadow Man stood at their center. He held that enormous two handed sword lightly as he strode toward us.
“Okay, he’s not easy to kill and the Shadow Knights seem to be a renewable resource,” I said, scrambling to my feet. “We need a new plan.”
“Great thought,” Duncan said. “Any ideas?”
“The Shadows belong to the Summer King, right?” I said. “Or Queen.”
“The thing was still bound to kill you,” Azrael reminded me.
“But maybe Herrick was the one who sent the shadows after me,” I said. “When he had all the power. But now he’s dead, and Faer and I inherited his power.”
That was why he’d struggled so much to lift the enchantment that had altered my face. Remembering the smirk on his face before he began, he’d thought it would be easy. Then he’d recognized my magic when he struggled to defeat it.
I was just as powerful as Faer.
I was powerful enough to stop this monster.
I just needed to figure out how.
“There’s a reason Faer didn’t want me learning to use my magic all over again,” I said. “So I guess I’m sticking with what I know.”
Light causes shadows, but depending on how it falls, light can also drive them away, for a while. Or maybe that wasn’t how the magic worked at all. It was worth a try.
I raised my hands and formed a ball of light in my palms.
Duncan looked at the glowing orb, then at the Shadow Man, as he charged toward us. His army of knights were silent as they raced over the ground too, swallowing up the greenery, turning the world all around us to shades of gray and black.
He raised his sword, a resigned look coming over his face. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a jackass.”
“Last words?” I said. “That’s sweet, but I don’t think it’s going to be necessary.”
“I was talking to Azrael,” he said.
“Of course you were.”
My orb grew. Bright summer magic shimmered across my skin, grew painfully warm and then hot. I raised the orb of light over my head, just as the Shadow Man raised his sword over his head.
And I threw it at him and his approaching army.
The magic kept expanding as it flew through the air, an ever-increasing ball of light, and then it struck the ground. A wave of golden magic washed through the shadows and suddenly, the shadow knights and the Shadow Man rippled out of existence.
But the Shadow Man’s last rasping words hung in the air: “Until we meet again, Alisa.”
The clearing was quiet. I sagged back against the ground. “Do you think Faer has any other monsters to send after us?” I managed in a gasp.
“Don’t worry about that.” Azrael held me close, and the warm, spicy scent of his body washed over me. “You’re safe with us, and we’re safe with you. We’ll always figure something out.”
His warm eyes held mine.
Duncan groaned. “Can you get just a few Shadows back to kill me, though? So I don’t have to hear this pap?”
“Get the horses,” Azrael said. “She’s weak from using all that magic and from the poison. We need to get her back to the keep.”
Now the fight was over and the adrenaline that had held me together slipped, I felt as if unconsciousness were trying to swallow me. I tried to fight it, tried to summon my strength again.
“Let’s get you back to the sisters so they can help you with the poison,” Azrael said, and there was a note of urgency in his voice that made my own heart beat faster. I felt woozy, the world seeming to spin in a way that left me nauseous.
Azrael handed me up to Duncan, who was already astride his horse. I expected to see hatred in Duncan’s eyes that he had to hold me, the same hatred I’d seen last night. My vision narrowed, and all I could see was his face, as the world grew suddenly muffled.
“You’re going to fall, Princess,” Duncan said, his voice rough. “Relax. I’ve got you.”
I let my head fall against his chest as the world faded out completely.
Chapter Eighteen
I woke in the infirmary. High stone arches soared above me, the room full of light and clean, bright air.
My head ached, and then I thought of Tiron, and I sat up in bed, no matter how much it hurt. My heart pounded. I was desperate to see him again.
Tiron’s bright eyes met mine from the next bed. “Hello, Princess.”
I closed my eyes as relief bloomed through my chest. “I never thought hearing princess could sound so sweet.”
“Aw, you missed me?”
The mattress creaked beneath him as he shifted. I let myself fall back into the pillows, still exhausted from all the blood I’d lost, as he climbed into bed beside me.
“Will it hurt if I hold you?” he asked me.
“Will it hurt if I l
et you?” I returned.
His lips quirked. “We’ll figure it out,” he promised me, and the two of us shifted together until my head was on his chest. I breathed in his familiar scent of pine and fresh snow, and peace crept over me. For a few long minutes, he just held me, his face against my hair as if he were breathing me in, savoring my body against his, just the same way I felt about him.
The dread clutched my chest, chasing away the peace.
“Aren’t you going to ask me about my memories?” I whispered.
“No,” he said. “Tell me what you remember when you want, Alisa.” He pressed a kiss into my hair. “The past doesn’t matter to me.”
“It doesn’t?”
“No,” he said softly. “All I care about is the future.”
“I wish everyone felt that way,” I said, thinking of Duncan and Azrael. “I don’t think they’ll ever be able to forgive me.”
“Give them a little credit,” he said. “I think I told you from the beginning. Azrael can forgive you. Even Duncan can be won over.”
I shook my head, and he said, “It’s so hard for you to trust anyone, isn’t it?”
“I can’t even trust myself, Tiron.”
“Really?” he stroked my hair back from my face with his hand, then pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I trust you, Alisa. With my life.”
Tears flooded my eyes. It was exactly what I wanted to hear then—what I needed to hear—but I didn’t understand. “Why?”
“Because I’m quite fond of the new Alisa,” he said. “And she’s never let me down.”
It was easy with Tiron, who had no complicated past behind us. He held me as I cried, wiping my tears away with his thumb. He didn’t seem to mind that I soaked his broad, bare chest with my tears.
“What am I going to do, Tiron?”
“You and I are going to figure that out together,” he promised. “I know that the way this world is—it’s dark and unbearable.”
There was something haunted in his eyes. But he still managed to smile when he said, “So we’ll change it.”
I wiped the back of my hand across my damp cheeks, smiling in embarrassment; there was no weakness in crying, but I always kept my moments of leaky grief to myself. I wasn’t used to having an audience, and I’d wept all over Tiron’s chest.
“Sounds like a plan,” I said.
“Speaking of,” he said, fumbling in his jacket pocket. “Given recent near-death experiences, I thought I should give you this sooner rather than later.”
“I thought you were the optimistic one,” I chided. “You’re the one who’s supposed to believe the odds are good that we’ll win.”
“Maybe I just needed an excuse to give you this,” he said, drawing his hand up from under the bed. There was a slender white-gold bracelet in his hand, the color so light that it seemed to glitter like the snow.
“Jewelry?” I asked, my voice coming out neutral.
“It’s not just jewelry,” he admitted. “It was my mother’s, long ago, and it’s enchanted. As long as you wear it, I’ll know if you’re safe.”
He chewed his lower lip, studying me, and I knew he must have been through hell wondering if the three of us would come back to the keep. He must have hated being left behind; I knew how much I would hate it if I’d been in his place.
“Can you wear one so I’ll know how you’re doing if we’re apart?” I asked, even though I had no idea how to begin to make that kind of enchantment…yet. I was sure I could learn, though.
“Yes, of course. But how about if we just don’t do this ridiculous apart business again?” he asked.
“Sounds good to me.”
He held out his hand, and I offered him my wrist. He slipped the bracelet around my wrist and latched it.
When he looked up, his eyes were bright and kind.
My lips met his in a tentative kiss. For just a second, I thought he wasn’t going to kiss me back; then his hand cupped my cheek, his palm cool against my skin. Tiron’s lips tasted like peppermint, and he kissed me tenderly. I pulled away first, but only to lay my head against his shoulder. He smiled against my hair as he pulled me into his lap.
For a few minutes, wrapped up in his arms, I could believe that everything was going to have a happy ending
Even for the new Alisa.
Chapter Nineteen
“You’re both alive,” Duncan said when he came into the infirmary, followed by Azrael.
“You even sound happy about that,” I said.
“Because of him,” Duncan said, glancing at Tiron. He stared at Tiron and I in bed together, and his eyebrows arched.
“Before you came along, he never would have admitted that,” Tiron confided in me. “He vented all his cruel observations on me instead.”
“As if he’s nice to me.” Azrael hovered over the side of my bed, tucking his hands behind his back as if he were restraining himself from touching me. Despite his teasing tone, there was a tightness in his handsome features that I couldn’t read—protectiveness? Jealousy?
“Well, I am nicer to you, because you’re the better fighter than Tiron,” Duncan told Azrael. “I don’t have to worry that he might get a punch in for revenge.”
“There we go,” Tiron turned to me with an exasperated look that made me smile. “Back to normal.”
“How are you two?” Azrael asked.
“Fine,” Tiron said. “We can’t stay here. Faer might send more monsters, and we don’t want to endanger the Sisters’ safety any more than we have.”
“It wouldn’t be the right way to repay their hospitality,” Azrael agreed. “We’ll go as soon as you two can ride.”
“But where will we go?” I asked. If Faer was sending monsters after us, we would bring danger anywhere we went.
Azrael hesitated. It was Tiron who blurted out, “That depends on you, Princess.”
Azrael flashed him a warning glance. Right. Azrael and Duncan had never trusted that I’d choose their side in the war with Faer once I had my memories back; Tiron didn’t know the bad news yet.
I glanced away. They’d gone through all that, and I didn’t have my memories back. We were in a worse place than when we began. “I don’t remember the past.”
Tiron shifted in the bed. I thought he must be impatient, frustrated, but then his arm settled around my shoulders, drawing me into his side. He pressed his face against my cheek. “Oh, Alisa, I’m so sorry.”
Unexpected tears flooded my eyes. Apparently sympathy was my undoing. I blinked away the sudden blurriness. Just breathing in Tiron’s crisp pine-and-snow scent soothed my soul.
Azrael frowned. “I’m going to need a bit more information than that. What happened in the caves?”
I hesitated, chewing my lip. I could say the shadows had found me in there, that they were the ones that had bloodied me. I didn’t have to admit to them that I was the one who’d stolen my own memories. I’d started this whole mess. I’d betrayed Azrael and apparently erased my own memories for reasons that I couldn’t imagine.
Then to make things worse, Tiron had been hurt on this quest, and when I had my own battle to fight, I’d failed them.
Now I could keep my own little secrets until I found a way to restore my memories. The old Alisa would have, wouldn’t she? I didn’t have to remember her memories to know that.
The three of them stood around me, bruised and tired, waiting to hear whether I was on their side or not.
I couldn’t really be on their side if I lied to them, even if I was useless, even if I wasn’t worthy after all.
“I faced myself in the caves,” I said in a rush, committing myself to the words. “I’m the one who erased my memories. And then I lost, and I don’t know—”
“Why?” Duncan demanded. “Why did you erase your memories? Did you send yourself through the portal too?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
Duncan turned, cursing, raking his hand through his hair. We were worse off than we’d been before. We tipped Fa
er off that none of us were obedient to his plans and schemes, and yet I had no knowledge of what other monsters Faer had at his disposal, or how to outsmart Faer at his own games.
Azrael’s lips tightened at the news, but his eyes were kind. “We’ll find another way, Alisa.”
“Why are you still on my side?” I murmured.
“Because you’re on ours,” he said, as if he knew that without me saying it, even though Duncan had pressed me for some kind of answer. “You want to help free the courts. We’ll do it together.”
Duncan snorted. “There’s a plan. We’ll free the courts together. As long as that’s decided, then. Brilliant strategy.”
“Have a little faith, Duncan,” Tiron said, and I almost groaned because I knew before he finished speaking just how much those words would set Duncan off.
“Have faith?” he demanded, his eyes meeting Tiron’s coldly. “I think you forget I’ve been here from the beginning. I’ve had faith, and I lost it for a reason.”
Duncan turned and strode from the room. Az looked at me as if he wanted to say that Duncan didn’t mean it, but we all knew he did.
“Rest,” Azrael said instead. “I’ll make sure we’re ready to ride.”
Az nodded goodbye to us and headed out of the room, his boots almost silent across the floors. The soaring ceiling of the infirmary overhead made the place feel as hushed and eerie as a mausoleum.
Then Tiron pulled me into his arms. He didn’t lie to me that everything would be all right, he just held me.
And that was enough.
Chapter Twenty
Tiron
The next morning, I woke with Alisa in my arms. Sometime during the night, the two of us had migrated together; her body fit against mine perfectly, her head nestled under my chin, her smooth body against my chest, my knees against hers. My arm was draped over her warm side, and when I inhaled, I breathed in that faint sweet scent of summer.
She turned her head over her shoulder to look at me. When she tilted her chin up, a faint smile crossing her lips, I kissed her good morning.
One kissed turned into two, and then her hands were sliding across my bare chest. I took her wrists and rolled onto my back, pulling her to straddle me. The tips of her long lavender hair trailed back and forth across my skin as she kissed my jaw, working her way up to my mouth again.
