by Terry Spear
She listened for the castle's warning bells that would ring in alarm in the event of trouble—like now when they'd lost one hawk fae princess they had intended to use as a bargaining tool. She heard nothing but the ocean waves swelling and crashing against the beach, and feared she was being pushed back into shore. This was one thing she hadn't considered. How hard it was to paddle against the currents. Her arms were soon tired, yet she persevered, determined to get beyond the breakers.
She breathed in the salty air, holding her head up high, just knowing this time was going to be her successful escape, and paddled her darnedest for freedom.
***
Sitting up on his blanket, Brett couldn't sleep while Ena was looking for more trouble, and he wanted to help her. Oh, he knew he was at a disadvantage against hoards of fae, if there were that many of them out there. He still worried about her after the last mishap where the archer had nicked her. What if he hit her heart? Could she die? Even if she was knocked out of the sky and fell to the earth, broke a wing, or something, being badly injured would take longer for the fae to heal, wouldn't it?
He wasn't taken in by her bravado and her tenacity—that she could do everything on her own and didn't need anyone's help. He could see the vulnerability in her eyes, actions, and speech sometimes. Though she tried hard to hide it from her people, and from him.
He wasn't buying it. Still, he admired her for working so hard to provide for her staff, her family, and to keep them safe. He didn't know how long he'd remain part of the "family." But while he was, he had every intention of aiding her the best he could.
"She'll be all right," Ryker said, quietly, so as not to wake the others. "She always is."
Muriel stirred. "Says you. An archer hit her wing and tore it so badly six months ago, she had to walk miles before she came across a traveling merchant who gave her a ride back to the castle."
"Aye, but she landed safely, incinerated the archer, and her arm was nearly healed by the time she reached the keep," Ryker said.
"So you never killed seelie fae?" Lila asked, her eyes round.
"The only ones I encountered were fae with glowing silver eyes," Brett said, thankful now that he hadn't killed any of the seelie. Not until today when he'd killed the fae thief in self-defense. And even in the unseelie cases, for the same reason—to protect himself.
"You really weren't going to kill Princess Alicia, were you?" Lila asked.
"I didn't want to. We needed to learn why she was seeing Cassie. Why Cassie was seeing Micala. Though we didn't know their names at the time," Brett said. He suspected he would have fought Mr. Iverson about it, but he knew the older man's mind was made up. The only good fae was a dead fae, according to him.
"Tell me about Alicia," Brett said.
"Princess Alicia," Lila reminded him.
"Princess Alicia. She only went by the name Alicia so it's hard getting used to calling her a princess."
"Well, do it," Ryker said. "Or you'll find yourself in really boiling water."
"What do you want to know about her?" Lila asked.
"She said I might be like you. One of the fae," Brett said.
They looked at him skeptically.
Brett shrugged. "She said I could be like her. That I just hadn't come into my abilities yet. What made her realize she was one of you?"
"She became invisible, so the story goes. But she couldn't transport in the fae way. And she didn't leave a trail of fairy dust. Not at first. But the real first clue was that she turned invisible. Can you do that?" Ryker asked.
"No. Was it her age that made a difference? I mean, do all fae have more abilities at the same time?" Brett asked.
"No. Just as you might have walked and talked earlier than another baby, the fae come into their abilities at the time that's right for them," Ryker said.
"What about being a dragon shifter fae?"
"Were you hatched from an egg?" Ryker asked.
Everyone chuckled but Brett. He was trying to imagine Ena breaking out of an egg. A big egg. As a dragon or a fae baby?
"Dragon shifter fae are born the same way as the rest of us, only they have parents who are both dragon shifters. Though occasionally a dragon shifter mates a regular dragon fae and they produce a dragon shifter. Most often not though. The dragon fae offspring aren't shifters then," Lila said.
"So how would I know what kind of a fae I was if I turned out to be one?" Brett asked.
"You would know based on who your parents are and what their fae kind is," Ryker said.
"Is that how Alicia knew? Princess Alicia," he quickly amended when everyone frowned at him. "We don't have royal titles where I live. It's hard to remember."
"Remember, if you want to keep your head," Ryker said. "Yes, she learned who her parents were and her fae kind then. Some fae have special gifts. The dragon fae are excellent bowmen. They excel at archery. Some particular fae have other gifts. Ena can cloak her fae aura when invisible."
They saw something cloak the moonlight for an instant and glanced up. Ena soared into camp and landed near her bedding, then shifted.
She scowled at her staff. "Why is everyone awake? Didn't I tell you to go to sleep? All of you will be falling asleep on the trail in the morning."
"Did you see anyone?" Brett asked, ignoring her scolding, having to know.
She hesitated to say, then sat down on her bedding. "Eleven men and two women."
"Thieves or nomads?" Ryker asked.
"Too well armed to be nomads. No children either. They're thieves most likely. One man ran off and I followed him for a bit to see if he led me to others."
"Or a trap," Brett said, reminding her of her own words to them.
She cast him a ghost of a smile. Then she frowned. “Sleep.”
And so they did.
But in the middle of the night, Brett was certain he heard movement in the woods, the breeze still blowing, crickets chirping, and something else. A person stepping on a branch. Something.
Brett quickly looked in the direction of Ena’s bedding. She was gone.
Chapter 5
Esmeralda was glad she’d escaped the griffin island, only she had thought she could see the mainland from the sea once the dawn had come, but there was no sign of it and she didn’t have a navigator’s sense to know which direction to paddle. Huge swells carried her up and then rolled her down again into a trough until she was carried up high again. She feared she was hopelessly lost in the huge Craterton Sea. Twice, a rainbow-colored shark swam around her raft, checking her out, then moved along. It was light out now, though clouds covered the sun, but she could see the fish and sea snakes, the brightly colored green, blue, purple, and tangerine coral way below, maybe thirty feet deep in the crystal clear waters.
The clouds were white and gray and black with a hint of yellow peeking out through a hole. Sea birds flew above as if looking to see if she was fishing and would give them some of her catch. Every once in a while, she thought she spied a speck of something in the distance on the horizon. A boat? She hoped if it was that the crew was some of the hawk fae who fished off the coast of the mainland, which was some of why the hawk fae and griffin fae fought each other. The griffin fae claimed all the seas, since the hawk fae had the advantage of having a much larger land mass to live and work and play. They didn’t abide by the griffin’s claim though.
She didn’t think the people on the boat, if that was what it was, could see her as small as her raft was and how low it rode in the water compared to their vessel that would have higher sides and rigging.
What worried her most was the boat, or object, seemed to be drawing closer—slowly, but she swore only an hour earlier, it was but a speck and would disappear from sight periodically. Now the speck was a little larger and it wasn’t disappearing nearly as much, as if a swell in the seas was making it vanish in a trough for a short time before the boat rose on the next swell, like hers was doing. Or maybe they both rose to the top of the peak of a swell at the same time.
She worried that it would be one of the griffin fae's fishing boats. That would put an end to her brilliant escape.
She turned away from the horizon and again searched for any sign of land—hoping she wouldn’t all of a sudden spy the griffin fae island’s forested mountains or white sandy beaches. The good thing was that no one seemed to be looking for her way out here either. Maybe they thought she had already reached the mainland—she wished—and they were searching for her there.
She could imagine Estes being spitting mad that Esmeralda had stolen her raft. Well, she shouldn’t have taunted her with—“Don’t you wish this was yours? So you could make the trip to the mainland?”
Esmeralda smiled. But then her smile faded. She wasn't anywhere near the mainland either. And that boat was getting nearer to her location by the hour.
At least she wasn't seasick and her raft continued to float. She had to credit Estes for constructing a great craft. But Esmeralda hadn't encountered any storms yet either.
She stared at the ship growing bigger on the horizon, closer, and she couldn't quit watching it, mesmerized to see if it would turn away or keep on the same path—headed for her. In truth, she had put up the sail and paddled some, but she wasn't moving in any direction but the way the currents wished to carry her. And that meant she wouldn't be able to escape the approaching ship even if she'd wanted to. She'd just been fortunate she hadn't faced stormy weather, been capsized, and drowned.
By midday, she suspected the ship was headed for her. Someone must have spied her small craft, though from the distance they were and the way she rode so low in the water, they probably couldn't make out what it was, except maybe her small sail had caught their attention. She tried to recognize the flag flying high above their ship, but between the wind whipping it about and the distance the ship was still from her, she couldn't make it out. Just the knowledge that she could now see a flag at all meant the ship truly was heading for her. Though she had to admit that the captain could be sailing for the griffin's island kingdom, and she was in their direct path.
What if they couldn't see her and they sailed right over her? Could they hear her shouting if it came to that? What if they reached her in the middle of the night? Then they truly wouldn't be able to see her. Then again, what was the chance that in all this vast sea they would end up right on top of her? She felt so very small on her raft half-buried in the sea as the ship sailed high in the water. Or at least it appeared that way to her as tall as it was.
Hours passed—the rocking of the raft, the dullness of the never-ending journey to nowhere, the hot sun blazing overhead, made her sleepy. Then slowly the sun sank into the water—the orange and purple and pink ribbons streaking across the sky, highlighting a few lumpy clouds. She held onto the hope that the sun would stay a while longer, but before she was ready to let it go, the sea devoured up the sun and it was night again. Pitch black night—the water, the sky, even her raft—all were indistinguishable in the darkness.
That was the scariest time. She was afraid she'd fall asleep and roll right into the sea, or that she couldn't compensate for the rocking raft and lose her balance and tumble into the water—then not find the raft again in the dark. So she tied herself to the raft at night. But what if the sea became so rough, it flipped the raft over? She'd surely drown.
It was colder at night, too, her gowns wet from the splashing waves and the constant humid sea breeze chilling her. She was a mess, her dark brown hair in straggles all about her shoulders, salt caked her gowns, stiffened as if it had been starched. She'd often romanticized the sea, wishing to be on it, sailing away from her captors. But she was miserable and didn't believe she'd take a trip on the ocean ever again once she reached the mainland.
She barely slept while the sloshing of the waves drenched her through the night, making her fear that the raft would turn over at any time. And then finally the dawn began to appear, the sun rising above the water as an orange glow in the distance.
She welcomed the sun and the warmth it would bring, but when she raised her head to look for the ship, she didn't see it in the direction she thought it would be. Like a bird swinging its head around to search in a different direction, she spied it, so much closer now that she could see a speck of a man in the crow's nest and what appeared to be a telescope looking her way.
She was torn between wanting to stand and wave her arms and let him know she was alive and well and needed rescuing, and not making a move for fear that they were griffin fae and would only return her to the griffin's island. Or worse. What if these sailors took her hostage and wished to ransom her to someone else?
Her gowns were so fine, despite being covered in a coating of saltwater, that they would have to assume she was royalty. What if they wanted to be heroic and return her to her "griffin" family, thinking she had run away? She groaned, then turned to see if she might spy the sight of land anywhere.
And then she saw it. Way off in the distance. Like a mirage, maybe not even there. But if it wasn't just her imagination, was it the mainland where the hawk fae resided, or the griffin island? She couldn't tell. The hint of a land mass wasn't disappearing. She felt she was as close to it as she was to the ship and she was certain the ship would reach her well before she could make it to the land. If it was the griffin's land, she wanted to stay well away from it. What if it was the griffin island, and if she could see them, observers in the castle's watchtower could see her?
What if someone was observing the tall ship? They would have several watching its progress. And then what if they happened to spy the small raft in the direct path? They would launch boats to come get her, assuming that the one on the raft would be one escaped hawk fae princess.
The ship was getting closer, though it would still take hours before it reached her. She looked back at the land and saw three smaller ships take to the water. This was so not good. Then she wondered if the tall ship carried the prince who was to marry her. She began paddling away from the ship and the land. She had hoped she could reach the mainland before anyone was the wiser and make her way to the hawk fae kingdom and her brother's castle, hoping he'd give her a home to stay.
With little choice, she would take her chance with the sea.
***
Word spread fast throughout the dragon fae kingdom that Ena was to wed Prince Grotto. Alton, who saw himself as her number one and only truly eligible dragon shifter fae suitor, immediately went to her keep, but no one was answering the door. Homes were made of stone filled with iron ore so that no fae could just make an appearance inside, though he truly wished he could do so right this very minute. He walked around back to the gardens and called out. No answer.
His best friend, Ena's brother, Halloran, was off on a mission in another realm and he could be gone for another week or two, so Alton couldn't even see if he knew where Ena was. Though Alton worried about the lack of personnel at her castle. At least someone should have been here. There were no fairs going on this time of year, and it wasn't market day when she'd let her whole staff go to buy supplies or watch the entertainment. Unless she had gone on a mission and her staff had figured they'd have fun while the dragon was away.
He wondered also what Halloran would think of this debacle. He surely wouldn't take the news well that she was being forced to marry a man who had openly reviled their kind.
Immediately, Alton wondered if her human prisoner had anything to do with this. Well, of course he had. If it hadn't been for Ena saving Princess Alicia and only taking a doomed human as prisoner as her reward, instead of some ungoddess amount of treasure, which would have been acceptable in the king's eyes, she wouldn't now be forced to wed Prince Grotto. Was it a gesture of showing the dragon shifter kind that the king saw them as something other than servants of the realm?
Alton returned to the front of the keep and paced across the cobblestone courtyard. Where could she have gone? Then he saw a dragon flying overhead. Olaf, a brown dragon, his scales edged in gold making them shimmer in the moon o
r sun's light, and though he was only brown, he had such a way with the women, it didn't seem to matter much. Not that Alton and their friends still didn't give him a hard time. His coloration signified the earth and fertility and he should have been earthbound. Seeing him here now really irritated him. What was he even doing here?
He landed on the cobblestone next to Alton and shifted. He was wearing more standard fae fare, a brown suede tunic, britches, and boots. Well, for him it was standard. Other fae wore different colors, but Olaf liked to be brown—as if when he wasn't wearing his dragon scales, he was still wearing them—in the form of fae clothes.
Alton, on the other hand, liked to wear human T-shirts and blue jeans, which meant he got a lot of flak, but he didn't care if others thought he should only wear them in the human world. He found them cool and comfortable. And his style.
"What are you doing here?" Alton asked him. They'd been friends forever, but dynamics were shifting a bit because of the interest his friends showed in Ena. Not that they didn't show interest in other dragon shifter eligible females, but Alton only, well, usually only, showed interest in Ena because she was to be his. Halloran, her brother and guardian, had agreed to the union.
Now this business with Prince Grotto was a nightmare. Still, though Alton didn't believe she'd want to wed the ogre, what if she did? To gain wealth, a title, and the prestige that would bring? What if it was good for their people—the dragon shifters—who had always been treated as second-class citizens?
He didn't care. She was meant to be his, not the dragon fae's prize. Prince Grotto wasn't a dragon shifter, only a dragon fae. He couldn't do the things Ena could do—fly over the treetops with her, participate in friendly competition, or understand what it meant to be a dragon shifter.
Olaf folded his arms and stared at the door. "No one's answering? Or have you not knocked yet?"
