by Angel Payne
Not to mention a testy temper.
Which only worsened with every calming effort I made.
I hadn’t come into this thing blind. Skipping breakfast meant I had a few extra minutes to Google the basics of becoming besties with a horse. I’d whistled into Fiyero’s nose. Petted the tops of his eyes and kneaded his withers, praising him the whole time. Couldn’t bring myself to do the “peach fuzzy” thing, though. I didn’t scratch my own ass and wasn’t about to do it for an animal I’d just met.
For a while, Fiyero bought it all. The picture of equine contentment. I’d been able to relax a little too, marveling at the vistas that unfolded through gaps in the cliffs. Arcadia truly had a little of everything: beaches and cliffs, mountains and forests, valleys and meadows. My initial impression from the incoming flight held true. Sometimes it hurt to look at it all.
Right now, my head pounded for a different reason. Like wondering if there really was a burr beneath Fiyero’s saddle. His sidestepping and snorting was getting worse.
“I never get weary of the view from here.” Novah finished with a wistful sigh. “The cliffs…they breathe with the wind.”
“Thanks for the description, Maria Von Trapp.” I felt like crap for being her Baroness Von Schrader yet as I grumbled it, Fiyero’s head jerked up and down a bunch of times. “But I’m trying to figure out if Fiyero’s deciding to be a bull instead of a horse today.”
“Because he feels your unease. Rein him in, Camellia. Instruct him who the leader is once more.”
Though Fiyero complied once I heeded the direction, I kept scowling. “Something still isn’t right. He started out as a Porsche. Now I’m trying to steer a Yugo.”
“Because he is not a car, Camellia.” Her rebuke carried a hidden giggle. “Breathe deep. Speak calmly. All will be fine.”
I glared again. Novah smiled back with rosy perfection, shirt still crisp, posture still prim. Thanks, Santa. Just what I needed. An Equestrian Barbie.
I berated myself for the snark as we continued across the plateau. The path widened here but would narrow again soon, as the hill in front of us escalated once more. I already wasn’t looking forward to that part. The cliff wall would be to our right, with another to our left.
As in, sheer drop to the sea—into the same kind rocks and whirlpools we’d seen around the Bull Rocks cave.
“Don’t think about it,” I muttered. “Don’t think about it. Don’t think about—”
Fiyero grunted, a horse version of back off, bro, when another horse bumped his backside. I leaned over and stroked his neck, an equally soothing move for my jacked-up nerves and slightly dizzy head. Hell. Maybe I should have considered eating this morning. I’d given up dinner for the opportunity to be on Evrest’s “plate” instead, not even thinking of a snack before bed after everything that had gone down with Samsyn. Even the cap on my head felt too tight, a poor substitute for the one left behind in the cave.
I stayed down a moment longer. Even gaining this small progress toward the ground was a relief. Besides, the sun had warmed Fiyero’s coat, another visceral comfort.
Down side? The position magnified every note of the strange sound that spilled out of Fiyero now. Not a whinny. Worse. Not a snort. Higher.
Angrier.
“What the hell?” I jolted upright, making him skitter even more. But what had irked him to begin with? I peered around. Our pace, deliberately slow because mostly everyone in the caravan had saddle bags, hadn’t altered. But the animal beneath me acted like he’d been bumped and bitten by every horse in the vicinity. “Whoa, boy. Fiyero, you’re all right. We’re all right.” Where had Zen Girl suddenly came from? Best to just be grateful. It allowed me a unique ability to see a bigger truth. This isn’t your fault, Big F. Whatever’s wigging out your horsie hormones, we’ll figure it out together. “Easy, boy.”
I repeated it—even as he went up on hind legs for a couple of seconds, repeating that furious squeal, tossing his head. As he did, I looked to his eyes—and saw mostly white. His ears zipped backward.
“Camellia! By the Creator!”
Novah. Shouting now. Somewhere behind me. At least I thought so. Which way was back? Forward? I was so turned. Where had everybody gone? Okay, the sky was still up, the ground below.
And the edge of the cliff—directly ahead.
The center of my chest thudded. Made its way down to the middle of my belly. Zen Girl, make way for Terror Bitch.
“Camellia! Hang on!”
Why was Novah screaming now?
Educated guess? Wasn’t because Channing Tatum had suddenly appeared on the ridge.
Conjecture confirmed as soon as I heeded her by clinging hard to the pommel, my sights thrown to the ground in the process—and onto the scorpion there, poised to strike as soon as Fiyero came down.
Now I was glad for my empty stomach. Even a breath mint would’ve come back up as I braced myself for the inevitable—that this horse, rage already spiked and fear already stirred, was going to go for the gusto in a full bolt.
Dammit, I hated being right.
It wasn’t zero to sixty in three seconds—though close enough for rock and roll. Or in this case, bile and prayers. “Oh God Oh God Oh God Oh God.” I gladly repeated the refrain again, just in case the guy upstairs—or the animal below me—weren’t clear about my desire to live. I broke the litany for a fast apology to Fiyero, before grabbing his mane in instinctual desperation. No way in hell was I going on a search for the reins, long lost from my sweaty hands.
The world turned surreal.
Wind tearing into my cheeks and eyes.
Breath crashed in my ears.
Lungs pumping against my ribs.
None of it as bizarre as the ground beneath us, whooshing by so fast, so fast, so fast. Why did it look so pretty? So soft? Like a multicolored blanket, billowing beneath us. Could it hurt that much if I decided to just jump off?
Fiyero kicked up a rock. Not that big—maybe?—I wasn’t sure. My only certainty was how it felt like a punch in the face when hitting my cheek. If my body hit the ground at the same velocity—
Jumping wasn’t an option.
I could only
hang
on
and
pray.
Dear God, I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die.
God was apparently off making a peanut butter sandwich.
Because when I finally looked up, all I recognized were two things.
To the right, the vertical cliff up.
To the left, the vertical drop down—
And the sea, so beautiful. Simply waiting for Fiyero to take one wrong step.
Chapter Twenty
‡
Screaming wasn’t an option. Not with panic swelling everything in my throat, pure dread sealing the deal.
Me. Speechless. There was a first.
I was so fascinated by that fact, I almost forgot about the world still blasting by, at a speed that shouldn’t be legal on this insane precipice. For all I knew, it wasn’t. Either way, Fiyero didn’t give a flying damn, emphasis on flying.
Oh God Oh God, Fiyero please; just listen; just—
Just ahead, the cliff jutted out further.
Did that mean the path got narrower?
I didn’t know if I could bear the answer. With eyes squeezed shut and face turned into Fiyero’s neck, I treasured every breath—each one joined by a memory.
My fourth birthday. Rainbow Dash cake.
My tenth birthday. Hannah Montana cake.
First bra. First period. First day in braces.
The day Dad moved out. The day Mom moved her first boyfriend in. What was his name again? I’d pretended not to care.
The day Harry came for all his stuff. What was in that pile, anyway? Still pretended not to care. Really good at it by then…
But then, Evrest.
Oh, God…Evrest.
Hello.
Hi.
The crinkles at his eyes.
The wine-on-velvet curves of his lips. The reverence of his touch. The magic of his words. The imprint of him on my heart.
I cared again.
Ohhh, shit. I cared.
How the hell had that happened?
I can’t care. I can’t care.
I can’t die!
But the scream in my soul wouldn’t pass through my lips. I clung harder, hating every passing, terrible second. Hoping Fiyero might tire out before we tumbled over into the waves and rocks. Praying for a miracle but only getting harder hoof beats beneath, louder chaos all around, thunder that rattled the very roots of my teeth.
“Camellia!”
Lightning joined the thunder. Evrest!
I instantly banished the joy of it from my heart. His voice. I hadn’t remembered the powerful perfection of his voice but the agony in my soul verified why. Remembering his voice, beautiful even on the harsh blade of the wind, only made this torment worse.
“Camellia. Look at me!”
Hell. He wasn’t going to leave me alone, was he?
I wasn’t pathetic enough to obey. Or so I told myself. But there I was, twisting my head around, inch by stupid inch.
My eyes banged open. Throat closed even tighter, which was probably a good thing. God only knew how much dust I’d already sucked in by letting my jaw plummet at the sight of him, galloping aside Fiyero and me on a coal-black stallion—
On the outside edge of the trail.
“What,”—holy shit, I did still have a voice—“wh-what are you—”
“Give me your hand.”
I stared at his outstretched arm, clothed in a brown long-sleeved shirt. No. A white shirt turned brown by the perilous ride he’d taken to catch up to us. The dumbass wasn’t out of the woods—well, off the cliff—yet, either. What the hell was he thinking? Doing? To make matters worse, I’d never seen him look hotter. Much sweatier and dirtier than yesterday. And way angrier than I’d left him last night.
Not angry.
He was just as terrified as me.
Gee Cam, ya think? Because he’ll now go over into the brink first? Because he’s riding at the same illegal speed as you, only secured to his mount by one damn hand—
Now ordering you to do the same?
“Are you insane?” I yelled. “Evrest, this is—you’re—”
“Not asking,” he bellowed. “Give. Me. Your. Hand!”
Doubling down on aces. Sunday at the beach. Extra whipped cream on the latte. Should’ve been a no-brainer. “Scared shitless” was already a speck in my rearview. Left it behind when I’d asked God for a fast death, along with passing the message to my parents that I’d faked all those I-don’t-care moments. Now the big guy in the sky had given me a savior angel, brave to the point of stupid, gorgeous to the point of unreal, and commanding to the point of—
Shit. I really didn’t have a choice.
I was really going to do this.
Turning my face back into Fiyero’s neck, I rasped, “Bye, big guy.” Please don’t run over the cliff, okay?
I untangled my hand, finger by finger, from the flying cream mane. Then, yearning to cross myself first, I swiveled and reached out. And prayed like hell that Evrest would catch me.
I got in two words of the petition before he latched on, sliding his grip all the way to my elbow.
I screamed. Then again, even louder, as he hauled me out of my saddle and into his.
As soon as I was mounted in front of him, he worked the reins and relaxed his thighs, slowing his mount. In a daze, I watched Fiyero race on, disappearing around another curve in the path. I hoped that without my panicky ass atop his, he would calm enough for someone to treat his sting—and get him a few months of “Post Camellia Stress Syndrome” therapy.
Evrest curled his body around mine, huge and protective. His lips pressed hard to my forehead. His breath flooded my face with his ferocious breaths. “Fuck,” he growled. “Camellia. Camellia. My sweet sevette. Dear fucking Creator, I thought I was going to watch you die.”
“I’m—I’m still here.”
I’d intended to get in a laugh. Instead, I reached for his arm, clawing into its steely strength. My fingers trembled. My breath faltered. Hell, he felt so good. So warm. So alive. I wanted to tell him about the trip I’d taken down the this-is-your-life tunnel—and his importance in it—but this seriously wasn’t the time or place. I hoped I’d get it soon.
For now, I let myself sag. Sank back into the blissful reality of his embrace. As I surrendered, his chest rumbled with primitive satisfaction.
This was what I’d clung to Fiyero for. Prayed to get back to.
He’d made it happen. Almost dying himself as he did.
Crazy idiot. Beautiful hero.
I was conscious of him turning the horse at some point but didn’t realize what that meant until the terrain again looked familiar. Sure enough, we rounded a curve onto the ridge I’d first climbed to with Novah. She was still there, pacing beside her horse, panic distorting her face. Harry, Beth, Leif, and another dozen crew members hung out nearby, chatting up Samsyn and a crowd of his officers.
I waved as she cut the air with a joyous shriek. As we neared, I observed the streaks on her face. Had she been…crying? My heart twisted. I needed to go to her, to hug away her fear.
I was about to ask Evrest to stop and help me get down when he yanked on the reins. That handled the first part of the equation. The latter? Not so easy. Before he even swung down, I felt it in the tension through his body. The impression was confirmed when he shot a glare up at me. “Stay here.” And don’t brook me. “This will not be pleasant.”
Huh?
“What? Why? Ev—”
“Talk.” He loomed over Novah after barreling at her like a bull. If she’d been wearing a red cape, I would’ve feared for her life. “Now!”
“Evrest!” I struggled to swing my leg over and jump down but gulped and hesitated. If getting on Fiyero had taken me to the fifth floor, this horse was the fifteenth. “Sheez and rice. What the hell are you—”
“Majesty.” To my shock, Novah’s sob cut me off. She collapsed to her hands and knees before Evrest, her shoulders shaking. What the hell? “I am sorry. So, so sorry. I promised you she would be safe. I have failed you deeply.”
“‘Fail’ is only the start of this,” Evrest snarled. “Do you know what that animal almost did with her? Do you know?”
“Evrest!”
Oh, sheez.
Still without a second to cross myself. I slid down anyway, giving everyone a gawky clown act in the doing. Bad, bad decision. The second I hit the ground, my noodly legs gave way. I braced for impact—but my humiliation was stayed by a pair of arms, bolstering me back to semi-dignity. “Thanks.” I met Harry’s gaze, letting him know I meant it—stunned at the glower I received in return. Had he been that stressed about me, too?
“No problem.” He issued it in his editing room tone. Tight. Accusing. “Guess your boyfriend can’t be in two places at once.”
Three, two, one. My rage rockets fired on all burners, presenting a plus/minus thing. Plus? I needed the extra fuel in the energy tanks. Minus? I had no idea if the tanks were even functioning right now. “Really, Harry? This? Right now?”
So much for the friend who’d held my hand in the ER years ago. He was replaced by a stranger with a dour pout and a stick up his once-charming ass. “Everyone saw how he held you on that horse, Cam. Everyone. Do you know the implications of that? What everyone will be saying now?”
“Yeah.” Forget the rockets. I launched the spaceship of ire now. “That King Evrest just saved my damn life.”
“And…?”
“I don’t have time for this.”
I really didn’t. Not when it looked like Evrest had caught the asshat virus too, and was about to tear Novah’s head off for reasons I still wasn’t clear about. Worse, she was going to let him. Had everyone been snorting lines of insanity while Fiyero took me on the joyride?
“Majesty,”
she sobbed. “Rahmié. I beg your mercy.” When he gave her nothing but a harsh laugh for that, she stammered, “You know about me, Evrest. You know everything about me. What reason do I have to wish Cam harm?”
I stepped around Harry. “She has a good point. Evrest, listen to me. I think there was a scorpion on the trail—”
“Before or after he tried throwing you off?” His tight nod followed my telling blinks. “Exactly.” He wheeled back on Novah. “Which leads back to the beginning, Novah. To you.”
“I picked him up from the stables at dawn, Majesty. They had him fed, saddled, and ready for me, told me he was precisely what you’d requested for Camellia’s mount. Calm, well-trained, happy.”
Her face crumpled again. Wrong. Something was so wrong here.
I threw my stare to Evrest. Wasn’t tempted to smack him now that I glimpsed how he’d gotten to the anger—but he was still due for a hard poke if he didn’t see the truth soon. If only his shoulder wasn’t so fuzzy. If only I wasn’t so damn dizzy. Two skipped meals, one wow of an orgasm and a near-death experience later, I wasn’t the same girl as twenty-four hours ago.
“‘They’ who?” he demanded, low and determined.
“The boys at the Colluss stables.” Novah gave it with the immediacy of honesty. She met his gaze directly, too. “The ones who work there, for Merlyn.”
“Did you see Merlyn when you were there, too?”
“Briefly. He came over to be sure everything was fine with the horses. He seemed to be rushing, but there were many horses to prepare for this day, so I thought nothing of it.”
“And Fiyero was fine then?”
“Polite as a prince, Majesty.”
“He was a gentleman when I got on, too,” I cut in. “It wasn’t until we made it up here that things got hinky. The poor guy probably realized what a novice he had on board, and—”
“Camellia.” That and an upstretched hand, like a jerk-ass hailing a waiter, and he had me shut up. You. So. Did. Not. As I fought my swimming senses for a creative alteration of go fuck yourself, he pivoted toward Samsyn and the guards. “Where is Merlyn now? He came with the caravan to assist with the horses, did he not?”
One of the soldiers advanced then pointed. “Then why is he tearing back down the ridge?”
