Forever Fae 1

by Sara Hubbard

  I listened to the men’s conversations, trying to glean some explanation for my capture, and to find weaknesses that I could exploit for escape. Though, once I did, I wished I had damaged my ears too, for their words were unkind and they did not speak of anything of consequence.

  “Do all humans cry this much?” asked Sandy-Brown, at our rear. I wanted to tell him exactly what I thought of him and his friends, but it was probably best that I didn’t do anything to anger them. I scowled instead. They thought me weak and maybe I was, but who stood a chance against the lot of them? Their opinion of me helped me muster what strength I had left. I sniffed away my tears and batted away the ones that my nose missed. I forced myself to sit up straighter on the horse, holding my head high.

  “I have about as much experience with humans as you do,” the one with gray streaks grumbled. “And though I have seen many cry when they have met with my sword, I do not recall any of them crying with such…force.”

  “Such a contemptible race. Weak and pathetic. They should have been killed off ages ago. Their very presence offends me, this one more so than others.”

  I peeked over Remmie’s shoulder to see who spoke so poorly of my people, and spied the man with the copper-colored hair. He was shorter and wider than the others. Frown lines covered his face. I made a mental note to avoid him if at all possible. Something about the squint of his yellow-green eyes hinted to the nature of his soul.

  “They are also a very hardworking and productive race. Their labor brings a great deal of food to our table.” Remmie’s chest vibrated against me as he spoke. I turned my head to meet his gaze but he quickly looked away. It surprised me to hear him defend my people, and I wanted to know why he felt the need to do it. Why did he seem to respect my race when the others frowned upon us? This man puzzled me so much more than any other I’d met.

  “Are you saying we should thank them?” Copper-Red growled.

  “Shouldn’t we?” argued Remmie.

  “Are you sure you’re Daentarry?” asked Sandy-Brown as he stroked the length of one of his braids and held the reins of his horse in the other.

  Remmie’s chest vibrated once again, though this time it was from laughter. I was glad they were enjoying themselves and behaving as if kidnapping a woman was a normal occurrence. I bit my tongue to stop myself from speaking and elbowed Remmie as I shifted on the horse.

  Clutching my waist, he repositioned me but I fought against him, wriggling and squirming. How dare he touch me like this? As he pressed his body against mine, holding me tight, I continued to fight until he tightened his arms around me to the point of pain.

  “Having trouble controlling the girl?” asked one of the men at our rear. I could hear the smile in his voice. Remmie cleared his throat and ignored him.

  When I gave in, he loosened his grip. Riding so close had its advantages. His body radiated warmth and kept my teeth from chattering but being so close to him was wrong. I’d never been this close to a man.

  Not ever. Women and men had boundaries in public, or they risked torment and gossip. I doubted they worried about things like this in their home country. They were savages after all.

  Cold droplets began to fall from the sky, first slow, then hard and fast. They knifed at my bare, injured arms and forced me to remain conscious. My clothes quickly became saturated and sat slick against my skin. With rounded shoulders, I shrank into the tiny space Remmie allowed me, and he responded by closing his arms tightly around me, adding a touch of warmth. His body temperature seemed to run much hotter than mine, and I was thankful for it. I didn’t know if he held me close for him or for me, but it mattered little because the reason would not have changed my response. I was too tired and cold to refuse any shelter. I could barely move my muscles.

  Was this the journey that the gypsy spoke of? The journey I’d felt a glimmer of excitement for? How foolish of me to think it would be a leisurely and joyful journey along the countryside. If only she had warned me. Gave me some indication of what was to come. I could have possibly prevented my capture.

  “We’ll stop here for the night,” Nole said as he slowed his horse. He pointed to a small clearing off to the side of the muddy road. It looked to be fairly dry, the overhanging branches and long needle-leaves protecting the ground below. The horses clopped forward in single file and then the men dismounted, easily dropping to the muck as if they had wings.

  Copper-Red stomped over to me and yanked me off Remmie’s horse. I fell to the ground with a resounding thud. The searing pain in my shoulder rocked me and I lost all of my air. He stood above me, smirking. I stared at his deep scars and wondered how many battles he had seen and about the beast who’d succeeded in causing such permanent additions to his face.

  “Get up.” His voice came off as a loud grumble, but I couldn’t force myself to move. My body felt as if it had been picked up by a tornado and spat back down onto Copaxa. It was so cold and my clothes were sheets of stony ice against my burning skin.

  I noticed Remmie out of the corner of my eye, clenching and unclenching his fists as he looked at Copper-Red. There was no love lost between them, and I wondered if I might be able to use this to my advantage.

  “Get up,” Copper-Red demanded again, and then retracted his foot as if to kick me. I flinched, preparing for the impact of a foot longer than my arm.

  “James!” Nole shouted at him. “Leave her be. Go find something useful to do.”

  “It’s your lucky day,” James said while grinning, his eyes sparkling as if the possibility of torturing me excited him.

  “Lucky day,” I whispered. “Yes. That’s exactly what I’d call it.” What an odd choice of words.

  Certainly, being kidnapped, thrown about, and brought to the brink of exhaustion constituted a lucky day.

  “Remmie, tie her to that tree over there.” Nole gestured to one of the thinner trees before chucking Remmie some long, braided rope. Remmie snatched it midair before scooping me up into his arms. He carried me over to the tree the blond had identified. Carefully, he sat me down on the damp ground. The rich smell of sap and pine drifted into my nose.

  “You know, it’s funny,” I said without humor. “I wanted to travel the world and it appears I am going to get my wish. I never imagined I’d do it as a prisoner. Marriage doesn’t seem so bad anymore, considering.”

  Remmie studied my face for such a long time I had to look away. His face was flawless and not at all hard to look at, and yet, meeting his gaze made me uncomfortable in unfamiliar places.

  “What are you looking at?” I said, folding my arms across my chest and rounding my shoulders.

  “You’re a married woman?” he asked quietly as he glanced over his shoulder at his friends. The blond threw sticks on the ground and James began furiously rubbing two together to start a fire. How foolish they were thinking they could start one with wet sticks. These men were not as smart as they thought they were.

  “I’m engaged to be. My fiancé and my family will come for me, you’ll see, and they’ll stop at nothing to punish you for taking me.”

  He chuckled. “I shiver in my boots, miss. And I welcome the challenge.”

  “My fiancé is a master with a sword.” It was a lie. He didn’t have to know I meant making them as opposed to using them.

  “Even better.”

  Remmie raised my goose-pimpled arms to bind my wrists and I quickly felt my shoulder grinding within its socket.

  I cried out.

  He dropped my arms immediately and left my side. When he returned, he carried a wool blanket.

  Confused by his kindness, I watched his face as he carefully tucked the blanket in around my half-sitting body. His eyes flashed down, meeting my gaze. Something about the way he looked at me did strange things to my stomach. He looked…sad…regretful. But he said absolutely nothing. He wrapped the rope around my wrists and tied them with enough slack for me to easily wiggle out of them. I could have escaped if I had any energy left in my body, which I did not.
I considered thanking him for the blanket, but how could I express my gratitude toward a man who had stolen me from my family?

  “I told you to tie her to the tree,” the blond said with a sharp edge to his voice.

  “Look at her, Nole. She’s not going anywhere.”

  “And the blanket?” Sandy-Brown leaned against a tree, grinning over at Remmie.

  “As I recall, we are supposed to bring her to the king alive. Or have you all forgotten that?” With a frown, he looked over every inch of my bloodied face. He sighed and lowered his head, raking his hands through his matted ebony hair.

  When he rose to his feet, his wet clothes covered his body like an extra layer of skin. They curved over the planes of his stomach, and his trousers hugged tight against his muscular legs. Raindrops touched his face before trickling down his cheeks. I couldn’t help but notice a stray drop lingering on his slightly pouty bottom lip.

  “We should remain here until her health is better.” His voice became quieter as he moved away from me, and as I slipped in and out of consciousness. “She’ll catch her death if we don’t let her rest.”

  The world around me became hazy. I retreated farther and farther away from my surroundings.

  Under a perfect, pale blue sky, Lilley ran through the cornfields, and I ran to catch up to her. The thick, floppy leaves around us rustled with each breath of the wind. Ethan climbed a tree in the distance. Henry followed hand over foot behind him.

  “King Knolen specifically said he wanted her…”

  Lilley was nowhere to be seen, I slowed my pace and jumped between the rows as I tried to find her. She giggled in the distance and ran for the woods; I followed. I could easily have caught her, but I was in the habit of letting her win.

  “I’m fairly certain her shoulder’s dislocated, and she needs…”

  My thoughts were confused, and I had a difficult time separating dream from reality. My tired brain and body gave in and as I passed into a dreamless sleep so deep, I wondered if I might never wake up.

  Chapter 5

  THE MEN SAT around a roaring fire when I woke. Their resourcefulness impressed me. Finding dry wood in the rain couldn’t have been easy. The orange sun hung high overhead, partially hidden by the canopy of leaves and scattered clouds. The scent of damp grass and wildflowers hung in the air as well as the smell of some kind of cooked meat I couldn’t identify. Yellow-spotted jays sang sweetly in a nearby tree and a brown bird with a ring of gold around its neck sat on a tree stump a few feet away, staring at me.

  I forced a smile. The bird seemed familiar to me somehow.

  I breathed in deeply and my stomach groaned in hunger. I tried to sit up, but pain shot through me like a cannon and tears welled in my eyes. After a quiet scream of anguish, the bird flew away. All my years working in my parents’ cornfields had never wreaked as much havoc on my unfortunate body as the last day had. Mentally, I felt sharp. Physically, my shoulder burned as if it had been exposed to kerosene and flint, and it hung at an odd angle. Other than that my body had nearly healed. Faint pink lines and patches, a shade lighter than my normal pallor, were the only remaining visual signs of trauma on my body, and the gash above my brow was smooth and pain-free when I reached to touch it. I wasn’t surprised to see myself almost completely healed overnight. I’d always recovered quickly. It amazed everyone who knew me at how fast I could heal. My mother once said I was touched by the gods.

  Hogwash. Everyone had their special talents. Healing had always been mine.

  Nole walked over to me as I leaned against the tree, my wet dress slick against my body and legs, showing every line and curve of my body. My hair lay limp and damp across my face. He held a dagger in his hand. I felt a powerful urge to flee, but I was so tired and sore that I couldn’t force myself to move. I looked up at him, not bothering to try to hide my contempt. He knelt down and fingered the loose rope around my wrists. With a snort and a shake of his head, he yanked it off. He scrutinized the skin above my brow, where the nasty cut should have remained.

  Satisfied, or simply bored, he began rubbing circles into his temples with his massive fingers. The muscles in his arms strained beneath his tunic. In an exasperated tone he asked, “Which shoulder did you injure?” Was he going to help me? His posture, his eyes, his tone, all told me that he either seriously distrusted me or he absolutely loathed me, maybe both. Yet it seemed as if he might help me.

  I nodded to my right shoulder.

  “This is going to hurt,” he said in warning. “But it will be far worse if you leave it.” He helped me up into a seated position, and then took my arm, bending it at the elbow. To my surprise, he handled me carefully. His feather-fine touch was how I imagined a father would treat a child—but the scowl never left his face.

  In a sweeping motion he rotated my arm inward and outward. I felt as if I had been kicked in the stomach. I cried out, unable to hide my anguish as my shoulder snapped back into place with a pop. All of the men except James turned their heads away from me. He smiled. Awfulness oozed from his dimpled pores.

  Nole rested my right hand over my chest. “Keep your arm like this for a while. It should feel better quickly.”

  “It feels better now.” I stared at the flecks of gold in his brilliant blue eyes before adding, “Thank you.” My arm ached less, almost as if I’d never hurt it in the first place.

  Nole stood and turned his back to me before heading to the fire.

  “You’re welcome,” I muttered to myself. These men needed a few lessons in manners. As if hearing me, he stopped abruptly and glanced over his shoulder at me. He raised his eyebrows in annoyance and then resumed ignoring me.

  Gray-Streaks approached me next, offering me stew. “Here.” He held the bowl out to me. I shook my head and said nothing. When he crouched beside me I tried to avoid his gaze. I lifted my chin like a petulant child. I would take nothing from them.

  He sighed and shook his head. “It is important for you to eat. You’re only hurting yourself here.” He placed the bowl at my feet before walking away. The stew was still warm, and the steam circled in the air before snaking up into my nose as if it were charmed. My stomach groaned. It smelled so good. I peeked over my bent knees, and regarded the clear broth with chunks of mystery meat, boiled bits of potatoes, and bright green leaves.

  My mouth watered for a quarter of an hour before I finally surrendered. I struggled to eat, mustering barely enough strength to lift the wooden spoon; it was not nearly as good as it smelled, but I still managed to polish off the entire contents and keep it down. The added weight in my stomach actually succeeded in quelling my nausea. And the mystery meat? I knew once I tasted the tender meat that it was the flesh of a bryer rabbit, the kind with long floppy ears and the silky golden fur. It was sinful for rabbits to be made as tasty as they were cute.

  Remmie freed my feet from the bindings before we set off. He barely touched the rope with his jeweled knife before it fell around my feet.

  I gently rubbed my ankles before he pulled me up.

  He took the blanket from me and draped a white hooded cape, lined with fur, about my shoulders. He fumbled as he tried to tie the string in front of my neck, his rough fingers brushing against my skin, quickening my pulse.

  Something in the way he tucked the blanket around me the night before and the way he gently draped and tied the cape about my shoulders gave him away. He might have been following orders, but he was also being as gentle with me as he could, whether he wanted to own up to it or not. Our gazes met and I gently covered his hands with mine. I wanted to thank him for the extra care he gave me but before I could manage it he clutched my hands at the wrists and forced me to drop my hands to my sides. He stared at me with a scowl on his face.

  “You’re nicer to me than the others are. Why?” I said in an almost inaudible whisper.

  “We were told to keep you alive, and that’s what I aim to do. Don’t mistake my actions for kindness.”

  “All the same, thank you.”
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br />   He nodded, his eyes pensive, but his lips set in a firm line as if he wanted to comment but wouldn’t allow himself to. What would he say if he didn’t stop himself? I wanted to know. He was so different from any man I’d ever known and everything about him made me curious, but I had to push my curiosity away. He was a savage. A killer. And I was his prisoner.

  For two days we rode across the southern island of Copaxa, stopping only to eat, relieve ourselves, and make camp for the night. Initially, I rode with Nole, but he easily tired of my tears and sniffles and quickly handed me off to Remmie. It was unclear if it upset Nole to hear women cry, or if it irritated him.

  Probably the latter. My father hated to see women cry. My sister often did it on purpose to get her way. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d cried before I’d met these men. Now I was a sniveling mess, and I hated myself for it.

  I rarely rode with the others. I wasn’t sure why, but I was grateful, at least, they hadn’t made me ride with the one they called James.

  I continued to ask them for answers about where we headed, and why they never responded to any of my questions. For the most part, they behaved as if I were invisible. Eventually, I gave up and did the same. I spoke when spoken to but otherwise said nothing. What was there to say? There was no point in feigning interest in one another. They were my captors, and I was their prisoner; pretending to be anything else was pointless. Or was it?

  On the fourth day, after another pounding rain, I realized I couldn’t wait any longer. My family would have been worried sick. As much as I didn’t want to go home to marry Henry, I had to admit that marrying him and having my family in my life was certainly preferable to being kidnapped, even if I’d managed to see more of Copaxa than I ever had. But it was not as if I could enjoy it or take in the sights. My body continued to betray me, as I sniveled and daydreamed. All the places I’d seen so far passed in one great big blur.

  How could I escape them, though? I could not overpower the savages, so that was out. I could try to outsmart them. That was a possibility. But another option that I considered, and finally decided to employ, involved killing them with kindness. If I could engage them and get them to recognize me as a person, then perhaps they would feel sympathetic toward me and maybe even let me go, or at least let their guard down long enough so that I could escape. They were capable of kindness. I had already witnessed that from most of them. I had managed to appeal to Remmie’s, Nole’s, and the older one’s kinder side, even if it wasn’t solely for my benefit. My only real obstacle was James.