by Erin Rhew
Layla squatted down, curling herself into a most unVanguard-like ball. She wrapped her arms around her knees and rocked. Vespa could be right about Mia, and if Mia had Altered someone’s mind, which of them had she chosen? Could Layla have given herself to Wil, in the most intimate way possible, and not even remembered doing it?
* * * *
Layla approached Wil as he packed up his saddle bags in preparation to enter the Outlands. She knew by his body language that he didn’t want to talk to her, but she didn’t plan on offering him a choice.
“Wil.”
“Not now.” He yanked the belt on his saddle to tighten its hold.
“Yes now, Wil.”
She crossed her arms and waited for him to finish. His simple task took an inordinate amount of time, a stalling tactic, but she didn’t budge. When he turned to face her, she saw the hurt, anger, and embarrassment written on his face. Wil’s blue eyes—eyes she’d always found mesmerizing—stared back at her, tortured. The sight turned her stomach. She hated the idea of causing him pain, however inadvertent.
“What is it?”
“Can you come over here?” She gestured to a spot farther away from the group.
With palpable reluctance, Wil followed her until they stood away from the group, alone. She could tell he had a lot running through his mind, but he held his tongue. Always the consummate king.
She drew in a deep breath. “I had an idea. Since you believe so strongly one way—”
“I don’t believe, I know.”
She bit back a sarcastic remark, understanding his anger stemmed from a place of hurt.
“Since you know one thing and I know another, I thought perhaps someone performed an Alteration.”
Wil remained silent for so long she thought he might not answer. “Only Vespa and I can perform them. I know I didn’t, and why would my sister? What purpose would it serve her to torment us in this manner?” She watched as he mulled over the possibilities in his mind. For the first time since their earlier talk, he looked more relaxed, like an explanation other than Layla’s rejection calmed him.
“I don’t think either of you did it. I think Mia did.” Layla glanced over at the Outlander. The girl sat on a stump and listened to Samson prattle away as he loaded his horse for the journey. Layla wondered what Mia thought at that very moment. Did it please her to cause such a divide?
“Mia?” Wil frowned. “I thought we decided their powers more closely mimicked a Seer. She has shown no signs of possessing the power to Alter.”
“But she can’t be Altered. Wouldn’t that suggest some sort of mind ability?”
“Not necessarily, but I guess anything is possible.”
“Vespa said we need to keep up a mind guard around her.”
“Vespa?” Wil’s face fell. “You talked to my sister about what happened?”
Layla’s flushed. “I didn’t give her specifics, but I asked her if she performed an Alteration on us. Though I thought it unlikely, I had to at least ask. Your sister is the one who suggested Mia. She has a good reason to cause a rift between us.”
“What do you mean?” Wil looked so clueless she almost laughed. Did he really not notice Mia? For a moment, Layla felt flattered Wil cared for her so much he didn’t even see Mia throwing herself at him.
“She loves you.”
Shock morphed Wil’s features. He really had no clue, Layla realized. For a moment, she felt sorry for Mia. To care for Wil while he longed for another must be difficult. But her sympathy vaporized the instant she remembered Mia’s secrecy, her possible Alteration. Panic shot through Layla as the question haunted her once more. What if Mia had Altered her mind and not Wil’s? That would mean…
“Layla?” He placed a finger under her chin, lifting her eyes to meet his own. This Wil, the gentle one, replaced the angry Wil from earlier. “What’s wrong?”
Her vision clouded with tears. “I’m afraid.”
“My Vanguard? Afraid? Of what?” All his former hostility vanished, leaving only genuine concern and love in his expression.
“That she Altered me.”
“Oh Layla.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.
She leaned against him. His warmth, his smell, his kindness steadied her. Had she given herself to him? If not for Nash, they’d already be husband and wife.
The muscles beneath his chest rippled as he rubbed the tension from her back. Heat bloomed within her, a mixture of desire and bashfulness.
“What if we did make love, and I don’t remember it?”
He squeezed her tighter. “Then we’ll figure out a way to Unlock your memories. We will figure out how to make this right somehow. And if my memories are the ones that were Altered, then I sincerely apologize for my behavior.”
She leaned back to look up at him. “You had every reason to be upset. You thought we made promises to one another, and I appeared to be going back on them.” She reached up and trailed a finger from his temple to his chin. “If I make a promise to you, I plan to keep it.”
He smiled. Pain lurked behind the gentleness, but his anger and hurt retreated. If Mia meant to separate them, her plan had failed. The thought afforded Layla a small thrill of pleasure.
“I’m sorry. I reacted poorly.”
“So did I.”
She stood up on her tiptoes and placed a gentle kiss on Wil’s lips. He jerked back in surprise at first, then a delayed smile tipped up the corners of his mouth.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Nash
Nash lay unmoving on the cold stone floor. Every time he tried to sleep, the images of Wil and Layla together tore through his mind, hindering his ability to rest. Being awake didn’t help either. No matter what Nash did, those visions replayed themselves over and over. He would rather face a thousand armed men in battle or take a sword to the stomach than suffer this agony. Cataleen had known just how to break him. He hated her for it.
When his cell door opened, Nash didn’t bother moving. A part of him wanted to stand and face her, defiant to the end, but his fragmented soul refused to care. To his surprise, Cataleen ran over to him, shaking him hard. He looked up, weary. The Innocent stared back, wild-eyed
“I only have minutes. Please sit up.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I found a marjoram leaf to eat, but it will only keep her at bay for a little while.”
Nash pulled himself up into a sitting position, confused. “Marjoram leaf?”
She sat down in front of him. “Yes, marjoram keeps her away. That’s why she had every last remnant of the herb burned, but some Outlanders still grow it just outside the scope of her visions. I got my hands on a small leaf so I could talk to you.” Her clear green eyes watered. “I’m so sorry for what she did to you. Sometimes I can’t see what she’s doing. Other times she makes me observe, knowing I can’t stop it. I tried to stop her; you have to believe me.”
He nodded. Though it could very well be the death of him, Nash believed her.
“What happened to you?” He ducked down to see her better.
“I don’t know. After my coronation ceremony, I began to feel strange, unlike myself. All the Outlander queens before me were either vicious or insane. I vowed to be neither, but now I understand what they went through. This thing comes to reside inside you, and you can’t prevent it. I want to fight it. I can’t stand how she treats you.”
The Innocent reached up to touch his face. At first, he drew back, remembering the many times Cataleen had hurt him. The Innocent’s hand faltered.
“I’m sorry,” she said again.
He surprised them both by laughing. “You say that a lot, you know.”
She blushed. “There is much to apologize for, particularly in your case.” A shy smile graced her lips, transforming her features to reveal their true radiance. “I came here because your friends are coming to rescue you. She saw it in her visions. I can’t release you without endangering your life, but I can loosen
the chains. If the opportunity to break them arises, do it and run to your friends.”
“What about you? What will happen to you?”
She shrugged, defeat written on her face. “I don’t know. The last queen killed herself to escape her. I’ll keep fighting, but I don’t know how much longer I can hold on.”
She pulled out a key and loosened his chains. For the first time in a long while, he experienced his wrists, ankles, and neck unbound. Nash reached out to her, cupping the side of her face. He marveled at how small her face felt in his hand.
“Keep fighting,” he whispered.
She nodded, flashing him a weak smile as she placed her hand over the one he had on her cheek, squeezing. How did such different people occupy the same body?
“Oh no. She’s coming.” Her eyes rolled back.
The Innocent jumped up to run from the cell. Before reaching the door, she stumbled and gripped the wall to break her fall and froze in place. Nash tensed. This scene had played out numerous times before. He knew she had come.
Cataleen whirled around, her face a mask of fury. She marched over to him and yanked his head up by his hair. Nash winced but did not make a sound.
“What happened here? What did she say to you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Nash spoke with measured calm, as nonchalant as possible. The Innocent resided somewhere inside, and he would protect her secret.
“Somehow she got ahold of marjoram! I couldn’t see anything. What did she do?” Cataleen leaned in close, her angry breath hot upon his face.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Marjoram! How did she get her hands on marjoram, and why didn’t I see it?” Cataleen stood. “I had all of it destroyed years ago!”
Nash had never seen her so unglued. He licked his lips like a wolf who’d eaten the prize lamb. For all the anguish Cataleen inflicted on others, she deserved to feel agitated and confused. Nash chuckled.
“You think this is funny?”
“Actually, I do.” He laughed outright. The Innocent, and his loosened chains, imbued him with confidence.
She leaned in, her face dripping with poisonous wrath. “Will you think it’s so funny when I kill your unfaithful paramour?”
Nash’s whole body stilled. The smile slid off his face. “What did you say?”
“You are mine, Nash. Whether you want to be or not, you are mine. I will make sure to remove all possible competition for your affections.”
The tables had turned, and Cataleen had once again gained the upper hand. In his mind, Nash thanked The Innocent for loosening his chains. He would need that advantage to stop Cataleen from harming Layla. Though hurt and angry, to the point he might never recover, he refused to stand by and let this hateful woman murder those he loved.
Nash longed to kill Cataleen, fantasized about it often. He could snap the chains right now and strangle her with his bare hands, but the idea of killing The Innocent trapped inside squelched his urge. As Cataleen peered down on him, he vowed to find a way to kill her and help The Innocent save herself.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Layla
Layla kept her horse beside Wil’s. If Mia thought she’d come between them with her mind games, Layla wanted the Halfling to know she’d failed. Wil glanced over at herand smiled. Layla smiled back, a nervous flutter in her stomach. What was that feeling—fear, nerves, or attraction? Since he’d approached her this morning and told her what had transpired in the tent, she found herself regarding him, and his body, with more appreciation.
Had she seen all that lay beneath those clothes? The idea she had and didn’t know it disturbed her to the core, but the idea of seeing him that way caused a stirring within her. She blushed just as a stab of guilt hit her. Nash. He had been locked away with the Outlanders for too long, but Wil’s steady presence did not make Nash irrelevant.
Vespa and Grant pulled their horses on either side of Wil and Layla, forcing Mia to ride behind them all with Samson. Layla glanced back to find the Halfling staring at the back of Wil’s head while Samson attempted to entertain her. She felt a pang of sadness for her brother, who had no chance of being noticed by Mia.
She recalled her earlier conversation with Wil. He had been unaware of Mia’s feelings, so perhaps Samson didn’t see it either. Though she felt a cold stab of regret for her brother’s predicament, she didn’t feel the least bit sympathetic toward Mia. The girl Altered someone’s mind—either hers or Wil’s—for the express purpose of causing discord, and they still had yet to figure out her true reason for coming to Etherea. Layla saw Mia for the danger she posed, whether her wayward brother did or not.
“Stop!” a voice called from a set of bushes as they approached the outskirts of the Outlands.
“Who are you?” Wil unsheathed his sword, drawing up to his full height.
“I know who you are.” A young woman crept out from behind the underbrush. Sunlight fell upon her long, brown hair tinted with a hint of red. Her eyes, a mixture of blue and green, darted around. “Please come with me.”
Wil glanced at Layla, a quizzical expression on his face. She shrugged, unsure. Should they trust this woman, or were they being led into a trap?
“Who are you?” Wil repeated.
“I am Iris. That’s all I can say for now. Please come with me. We have much to tell you.”
Samson yanked on his horse’s reins. The animal reared in the air, neighing and kicking. “Oh no, little Outlander girl from the bushes. I know how it works, and I’m not falling for this trick again. Nash and I believed your ‘help me strong stranger’ ploy before, but I won’t this time.”
Layla gripped the hilt of her sword. “Is this the same girl who drugged you?”
“Well, no. But that’s their trick, sis. They just appear out of nowhere. You feel all sorry for them, and the next thing you know, you’ve got a needle stuck in your neck.”
The Outlander held up her hands. “Please, we mean you no harm.”
“We?” Layla prepared to brandish her weapon. “Who’s ‘we’?”
“My friend Jule and I.” The girl’s hands remained raised in surrender. Layla noted how the action put the Outlander in a vulnerable position and found it both unwise and curious. Shaking, the girl continued, “We need to speak with you before you see the queen. We have information that may benefit you, but I cannot say more until we are safe. Please, have your Outlander prisoner eat a leaf of this plant before we continue. In fact, the safest plan would be to have you all eat a piece.”
“Outlander prisoner?” Vespa cocked her head to the side. “You mean Mia? She’s a Halfling.”
The young woman, Iris, shook her head. “She is no Halfling. We’ve known Mia all her life. She’s an Outlander, as are we.”
“You’re a liar. I knew it!” Vespa pointed at Mia, who shrank back.
Mia’s gaze stayed trained upon Wil. “I’m so sorry. I wanted to tell you. You have to believe me.”
“He has to do no such thing, you little lying Outlander.” Vespa’s eyes flashed.
Layla’s mind churned. This whole time, Mia had lied to them. Though she had known it in her heart all along, the truth still slapped Layla in the face.
“Please, we must hurry. Everything can be straightened out later. Time is running out.” The woman held up an unremarkable looking plant. “Everyone will need to eat a bite of this leaf.”
Layla squinted, trying to figure out what made it special and necessary, but she could find nothing.
“Do we look that gullible to you?” Grant shook his head. “We aren’t eating that.”
Iris held the leaf out closer to him. “It’s marjoram. It’s necessary. After you each eat a piece, I can answer all of your questions.”
Layla scrutinized the woman in front of her. Though trusting her seemed unwise, something about Iris appealed to Layla. The Outlander’s body language implored them to believe her. Openness and honesty shined forth after so much lying an
d deceit. Her mind screamed at her to be weary of tricks.
“How do you have marjoram?” Mia asked, her voice awed.
“I cannot answer anything until you have each taken a bite.”
Wil raised an eyebrow and allowed Layla the final say. She took a deep breath. Dismounting, she walked toward Iris to examine the leaf. It appeared harmless, but she had little knowledge of poisonous plants.
Iris leaned in, whispering so only Layla heard, “I would never harm you, Layla. Never.”
Though she shouldn’t, Layla believed the young woman before her. Some bond, some inexplicable link, connected them. Something made Layla trust Iris when all evidence warned she shouldn’t. Taking the leaf, she opened her mouth.
“Layla.” Wil leapt off his horse and grabbed her hand. He grabbed another leaf from the bunch in Iris’ hand. “We’ll do it together.”
They both placed a leaf of their tongues. As the sweet, mild flavor filled Layla’s mouth, she reached for Wil’s hand. He clutched hers. Whatever their fate, they’d chosen to walk it together.
Vespa, Grant, and Samson sat ramrod on their horses, watching with tense faces. Nothing happened. Layla swallowed and waited. Still, nothing happened. She turned to Wil and met his gaze. He raised an eyebrow in question, and she shook her head. Nothing.
Wil turned to the others. “It’s safe.”
Vespa, Grant, and Samson dismounted to take a bite. Mia remained astride her horse, her gaze fixed on Wil and Layla’s clasped hands. Her bottom lip quivered.
Iris pointed at Mia. “She cannot go with us unless she eats of the marjoram.”
Mia shook her head. “I won’t eat it.”
“You should know the queen’s guard is on its way right now. You can stay and wait for them or come with us. The choice is yours, but the time is now.” Iris waited.
With a sigh, Mia slid off her horse and took the leaves. After Grant secured their horses, they followed Iris into the Outlands. Layla hoped they’d made the right decision by trusting this woman, but she couldn’t be sure.
