by Elise Kova
“You can do this,” Davien encourages. No sooner does he say it than a Butcher appears in a nearby tree, vaulting themselves from the upper branches. I look up on instinct. “Focus ahead,” he snaps. I don’t see the Butcher’s body as it meets Davien’s claws, but I hear the crunching of bone, the shrill scream, and the thud it makes as she hits the ground behind us.
Is that one down? Or two? Or did he fell even more that I didn’t see back by the lake? I hope that’s the case.
“The horse can’t keep this pace forever.” I glance back at him.
“The ritual on their cowls will run out soon enough. It draws more power to be used in broad daylight like this. We can outpace them,” he reassures me.
Sure enough, two of the remaining Butchers are no longer giving chase. I turn my focus back ahead so I can weave through the trees. Another one lunges for us from a treetop and completely misses.
There are only three now who are keeping pace with the horse. Davien is right. We can outrun them. We can do this.
Yet no sooner do I think that than an arrow whizzes past our horse’s snout, causing the stallion to rear back. I manage to hold on, but Davien doesn’t have as good grip on the beast as I do. As he tilts off balance, I feel him pulling me with him, until he releases his hold so we aren’t both unseated.
“Davien, no!” I scream as the stallion rights himself.
“Go!” he booms. “Don’t stop!” Davien jumps to his feet, claws unsheathed, facing the remaining Butchers.
“I—”
“Go!” he speaks over me, hearing my objection before I can say it. “I won’t let them get you or the necklace.”
A sticky, hot, sickening feeling overtakes me, chasing away the cool air on my clammy skin. If I leave him behind, here and now, they’re going to kill him. I can’t… I must.
“Katria, go!” he shouts a final time.
With all the pain of ripping open a wound, I give the horse a kick and we begin sprinting once more. Even as I’m riding away, my neck is craned back toward him. I watch as two of the three remaining Butchers descend on him, only one chasing me now.
I have to go back.
I can’t go back.
If I don’t go back, they’ll kill him.
I can’t let them kill him. I love him. I have to go back.
No, the voice of reason is quiet and calm, because you love him, you can’t go back. Going back would be the wrong kind of love, the reckless kind that disregards his most earnest wishes. It would be a selfish love, where I put what I want above what he does. Going back would mean handing over the magic that countless fae—that Giles and Shaye—gave their lives to protect.
Is this choice love?
I press my eyes closed and let out a scream of frustration and agony that harmonizes in the most horrible way with a cry of pain from Davien in the distance.
Don’t kill him, I plead with fate, with luck, with whatever old god might be listening. Maybe Boltov wants him alive. My stomach clenches. No, if they take him to the High Court, he’ll face a fate worse than death.
No matter what, he’s going to die, and I never had a chance to outright tell him I loved him.
I dodge another arrow, pushing the horse onward. I continue at our relentless pace, avoiding the shadows, and running as though our life depends on it. I don’t relent even after the final Butcher has fallen out of sight, the magic of their cowl expended.
Davien’s cries of agony chase me far longer than any of Boltov’s men and women.
Chapter 30
Numb. Inside and out. I feel nothing.
My skin is so cold that I’m surprised it hasn’t cracked and started bleeding. Its healthy hue is gone, replaced with a shade as ghostly as the barren earth beneath me. Every muscle has seized from shivering for so long.
Even my mind has frozen over. My thoughts are still, encased in frost. The only thing I seem to be able to comprehend is forward. Ride forward. Keep going.
So when I see a shadow emerge at the edge of my vision, I can hardly react in time. The Butchers have finally caught up to me. They have me now, and the magic, and I left Davien behind for nothing.
“Katria!”
“No!” I scream back and try to spur the horse onward. The mount is exhausted from riding hard all morning. He’s got nothing more to give.
“Katria.” The man approaches.
“I won’t let you take me. I won’t—” I finally turn and realize who it is coming toward me. “Giles?” I rasp.
“I thought it was you.” He rushes over. I can only imagine how I look to him—still in nothing more than my small clothes, my wet hair hanging in knotted clumps, my lips blue, my body covered in mud and rock and blood. “What’s happened?”
I shake my head and choke on the words. Moving my head back and forth sets my whole body in motion. I’m shuddering, violently. I rasp incomplete breaths, wheezing them out only halfway before I inhale again. I stare at the necklace in my hand.
“I— I— Davien— He.”
Giles frowns. He knows what I’ve done. He knows I’ve left his king behind for the Butchers. Will he believe me that it was Davien’s wish? Will it even matter? I left Davien—the heir of Aviness—behind.
What have I done?
“Let me take this.” Giles slowly reaches for the reins of the horse.
“We have to keep going. We can’t go back there.”
“Obviously. There’s a tree not far from here that I holed up in last night. I was making my way north when the fog lifted and my compass worked again.” As he speaks, he shrugs off his coat, and it’s then that I notice his shirt is covered in blood.
“You’re hurt.”
“I was. It’s why I didn’t meet you both at the keep. Instead, I found shelter and healed myself. I’m fine now.” He says it in a way that betrays his true meaning—I’m fine, you don’t need to worry about me, worry about yourself. Giles drapes his coat over my shoulders. “We’ll go there now.”
“We have to keep moving, it’s not safe.”
“It’s not far and you’re going to die of exposure if you keep on like this,” Giles says firmly. “We need to get you warm and dry.”
I’m too tired to argue anymore. I let him take the horse’s reins and he leads us diagonally away from the course I had been charting. Fortunately, it’s still in a somewhat southerly direction, and away from the main road.
But nowhere feels safe as long as the Butchers know I have this necklace. Boltov has the crown, the hill, and now the heir that was standing in his way. All he needs is this power to be the unquestioned ruler of the fae.
Soon enough, we arrive at one of the larger trees of the skeletal woods. We’re definitely closer to the forests of Dreamsong. The trees here are larger and well-nourished. They still lack life, like the rest of the once foggy forest. But they’re large enough that two people can fit inside, albeit tightly, which is just what we do.
We squeeze into a split in the trunk. Giles suggested we tie up the horse at a distance, still in our field of view, but far enough that if someone attacked it they wouldn’t immediately see us. I don’t want to watch another horse die…but I want to die even less.
“Pass me back my coat. I only need it for a second.”
I oblige him. Giles places it on the ground just outside the tree. He peels off his socks, belt, and riding gloves. After drawing some lines and circles in the soft earth, he piles them up. With a soft incantation and a touch of his hands there’s new clothes—a long tunic, leggings, and a simple pair of ankle boots.
He hands them to me and says somewhat apologetically, “They’re not my best work. I don’t have much in the way of materials out here right now. But it’ll be better than nothing.”
That much is certainly true. No sooner have I pulled the tunic over my head than I feel it trapping in what meager warmth my body is still producing. When I’m dressed, Giles shifts closer, wrapping an arm around me.
“Don’t get the wrong idea,” he sa
ys, not meeting my eyes. “I’m just trying to warm you up as quickly as possible so we can get moving again.”
“I don’t have the wrong idea,” I say softly. “I know you only have eyes for Shaye.”
“What happened to her? And to Davien?” he finally asks.
My lower lip quivers, but not from the cold. I fight for every word. I made my choice when I left Davien behind. I have to stand by it now even in the face of—no, especially in the face of—his staunchest allies.
“We made it to the keep last night.” I shake my head and backtrack a little bit. “We were attacked not long after you vanished. It was Allor.”
“I knew it.” He curses under his breath. “She got me first.”
“How’d you escape?”
“She wasn’t after me, so she didn’t pursue when I disengaged, but I was hoping to lead her away from the three of you.” He shook his head. “It looked like she had a glass shard of some kind. Perhaps an old Aviness relic she was using to navigate the fog.”
I look at the necklace. Allor said she was the one to find it. I’d bet she found it while looking for a way through the fog for Boltov. All along she’d been playing us…and we let her. Rage warms me more than clothes or Giles ever could.
“I saw her go after you and couldn’t follow. She caught up to you, then?”
“Yes. Shaye engaged with her; she fought so that Davien and I could get away. My horse was killed in the fight. Then we made it to the keep…”
The memories of last night flood me. It seems impossible to think that just a few hours ago I woke up in Davien’s arms. That this is the same reality as was then. It should be impossible for one person to feel so full and warm then feel so cold and bitter in the same day.
“We made the ritual work.” I finally uncurl my fingers from around the necklace. I have to physically move one or two with my other hand because my grip has locked up. “All the magic is out of me now, and in this necklace. But then, right as I went to bestow it on Davien, there were more Butchers. We fought. We were going to get away… And then… Giles, it happened so fast. He was there with me on the horse, and then he wasn’t. They surrounded him. He told me to go.” I meet Giles’s sad eyes. “What was I supposed to do? I know how much this means to him—to all of your people. I couldn’t let the Boltovs get it… But that meant… That meant…”
“It’s all right,” he whispers. His arm tightens around my shoulders, pulling me closer. The embrace is warm and secure in a wholly different way than Davien’s. “You did the right thing.”
“Why do I feel like I betrayed him?” My voice cracks. “Why do I feel like I’ve condemned him to death?”
“We won’t let him die.” Giles has strength that I could only dream of possessing right now. It’s the strength of a man who didn’t see multiple Butchers descending on a lone fae.
“Won’t Boltov kill him?”
“Oh, most certainly.” A shadow crosses Giles’s face. “But not before he makes a mockery of Davien. Boltov won’t give him the honor of a clean death. Davien has eluded him too long for that. Boltov will make a statement before killing him—he’ll want to make killing the last Aviness heir public. He wants people to know the deed is done so none will ever dare speak out against him again. And that’ll be his mistake as it will be what gives us the time to infiltrate the High Court.”
“Do you really think all that’s true?” It fills me with a glimmer of hope that almost feels dangerous to possess.
“I do. But first, how do you feel?”
“What?” How I feel is hardly a problem.
“You don’t have the magic anymore. Have you begun withering?”
“I am exhausted,” I admit. “But I think that’s to be expected.”
“True…”
I shake my head. “I feel fine. Well enough to continue on.”
I have to. I won’t let him tell me no. The realization that I am willing to give my life for the fae hits me harder than expected. I swallow down the initial rush of fear and steady my breathing. I’m going to see this through to the end. I’m going to see Davien on the fae throne with the glass crown. Or I will die trying.
Giles gives me a skeptical look.
“I don’t think I’m withering yet. I still have time here,” I insist.
“All right. But keep an eye on it,” he relents. “Either way, we need to head back to Dreamsong. It’s the closest path across the Fade if we need to bring you back. Moreover, the supplies and allies we need are there. Hopefully we’ll run into Shaye on the way, or meet her there. But if not, then we’ll save her too.”
“Would Boltov also let her live?”
“For a time, and for a similar reason as Davien—he would want to make an example of her, of the horrors that befall a Butcher who would dare break rank. I imagine her torture would be less public, but no less severe.” Emotions are straining the edges of Giles’s face, causing his mouth and brow to contort. His usual levity has been crushed under immense weight. I know exactly what he’s feeling.
Both of our loves have been taken by Boltov.
“We should keep moving,” I say, pushing myself up. As I step out of the protection of the tree and Giles’s warmth, a breeze whips through me and I fight a shiver.
“Are you warm enough?” He must have seen it. “Is it the withering?”
“I’m fine,” I insist again. “We don’t have time to waste.” I put the pendant around my neck, tucking it under the tunic. “The faster we get to Dreamsong, the faster we save Shaye and Davien.”
The ride to Dreamsong is a cold, silent, and tense affair. The stallion is too tired to support both of our weights, so I still ride alone. Giles insisted I be astride, that way I can flee faster if need be.
I can feel my face crumple the moment the demarcation line of the territory of the Acolytes of the Wild Wood comes into view. We’re so close to safety. It’s now late in the afternoon and I know that if we’re forced to take a rest, the safe house isn’t far.
“Are we going to press on through the night?” I ask.
“I can carry on.” Giles eyes the mount. “What do you think about him?”
“We’ve kept things easy; I think he can manage. And if he begins to struggle I’ll dismount and walk too.”
“All right, then—” Giles stills as we cross over the bare strip of earth that marks the Acolyte’s territory.
I feel it too. Or rather, I don’t feel anything. There is no tingle of the barrier that surrounded the territory before. The earth is the same here as it was on the other side of the line.
“Something is wrong.” He gives sound to my thoughts. Giles looks to me. “Change of plans. We’ll go to the safe house and you’ll stay there. I’ll go on ahead and scout Dreamsong and then come back.”
“No.” I shoot the idea down quickly. “Our plan remains the same. We’re just more cautious.”
“But—”
“I’m not sitting somewhere alone, defenseless. Moreover, if you leave and something does happen to me—if Boltov gets this necklace—then no one will know until it’s too late. Our best course of action is to stay together.”
He purses his lips, clearly debating this, but ultimately relents. “Fine. But if we do encounter a struggle, you flee with the necklace. Head for Dreamsong, and keep your eyes open. No matter what happens, Boltov can’t get that power.”
“Understood.” I didn’t come this far and sacrifice so much to hand over the magic now.
We press on in silence for the rest of the day. Neither of us are in the mood for small talk. Shortly after the sun has gone down, we pause at a stream and give the horse a chance to drink.
“Are you still strong enough to continue?” Giles asks. Hearing his voice after hours of silence seems shockingly loud.
“I am, but I’m not the one who’s been walking this whole time. How are you?”
“I’m tougher than I look.”
“You look pretty tough.” I give him a weary smile; one he we
akly returns.
“Let’s keep going, then.”
The stars are out and the moon is high when we smell smoke. We exchange a wary look and a frown, but we don’t alter course. However, when an orange haze appears through the trees, Giles holds out his arm.
“This isn’t good,” he whispers. “You should stay here.”
“No, we go on together.”
“I’m trying to protect you.” The edge of weary frustration is present in his voice. It’s well intended, even if it’s misplaced.
“I know,” I say as calmly as possible. “But I’ve come this far. I’m not going to back away now. No matter what happens. I’m seeing this through to the end.”
Giles regards me thoughtfully and then resigns with a sigh. “Very well. But if anyone asks, I thought you should stay back.”
“Your objection is noted.”
“Stay close and follow me, then, we don’t want to go on the main road.” He begins leading us to the side, away from the well-worn trail we’ve been traveling on for the past hour.
It’s the feeling of sneaking that fills me with dread. It underscores that this place I once thought of as truly safe is no longer. I touch the necklace at my throat, thinking of Davien. I have to be strong for him. I can’t be afraid. I am still the keeper of the magic of the old kings. And until I can give it back to the person who can really use it to save these lands, I have to do what I can to help save the fae from Boltov.
The sound of fire crackling in the distance grows louder. I dismount, leaving the stallion tied loosely around a low-hanging branch, and we continue on foot, both agreeing that it will be less noticeable this way. We stay low and hunched in the brush as we approach the upper rim of Dreamsong.
Smoke is thick in my lungs and the orange glow is even brighter now; it’s almost like the dawn is breaking through the trees. I pull up my tunic over my nose and mouth but it does little good. My eyes are watering and lungs burning, but I don’t stop. I have to see what’s on the other side of those trees. I have to see Dreamsong even though something tells me that this pursuit is one I will regret. That what I’m about to witness can never be unseen.
