by Sage, May
Devi did her best to fight her desire to curl up beside him and let him hug her until the end of time.
“Something’s wrong. We need to go—now.”
Just like that, his eyes snapped open, alert. He released her and, crouching, moved to gather their belongings. She joined him, rushing to fasten their bags to the horses.
“The elves have either left their posts or they’re dead,” Vale stated. “I can’t feel anyone alive around us.”
Her father’s army never would have abandoned their post, so they were all dead, yet Devi felt nothing menacing near them. She could usually sense elves and fae, or any other creature of note, particularly if they had magic.
“I don’t feel anyone.”
Still, the silence perturbed her.
“You wouldn’t. You’ve never come across their filth before. On your horse. We may yet outrun them.”
She hopped on Alarik, asking, “‘Them’?”
Vale grimaced. “You cannot sense life or magics around us, because there’s none, but trust your nose on this.”
Frowning, she tentatively sniffed and noticed a nasty rotting scent she couldn’t place.
“Orcs,” Vale said before mounting Midnight.
Eleven
Ice and Snow
Devi had never encountered orcs. They didn’t venture deep enough in the unseelie realm to reach Asra or Farj up north. Shea had troops stationed all along the coasts, so the foul creatures met their doom as soon as they set foot on land.
By the smell of it, she didn’t wish to get any closer to them.
“How could they have ventured so far into the woods!” she shouted.
“Not without guidance,” Vale replied. “But the guard posts along the coasts are likely unmanned after the attack on Asra. More orcs will invade the lands soon!”
To her knowledge, orcs were repugnant but not particularly powerful. “Why are we fleeing? If we don’t get rid of them, they’ll attack the weak and pillage villages.”
Orcs were no threat to the likes of Devi and Vale, but they could destroy the small villages of defenseless common and lesser fae.
“Their one strength was in their numbers, and we don’t know how many are coming. If they’ve overthrown your father’s forces, I’d say there are many.”
Blast! Devi cursed. She wasn’t fond of running, and they’d done nothing else in the last week. She pulled on Alarik’s reins, calling to Vale, “Wait! I have an idea. Follow me.”
“What idea?” he asked, unmoving.
She considered sharing the details of her plan, but he’d only argue with her. She lowered her voice and said, “We should remain quiet, lest they hear us. Come on.”
Vale sighed but complied, letting her take the lead.
She dismounted and led Alarik off the path, carefully navigating between the trees. Away from the well-trodden path, the woods were very different, eldritch and menacing. Devi knew of some of the creatures who lived there, and many were to be feared by those who were unwelcome in the woods.
Once they’d put some distance between them and the path, Vale asked, keeping his voice low, “Where are we going?”
“I remember a cave on a hill not far from here. It’s out of the way and big enough for the horses. If the orcs keep following Elven Way, we’ll ride on their tail. If they manage to track us, even better: the woods will take care of some, and when the others reach us, we’ll have the high ground.”
“Not a bad plan, little elf. Of course, should the enemy overwhelm us, they’ll have us trapped and we’ll die in a ditch.”
Yes, there was that, hence the reason she hadn’t outlined her plan before heading toward the cave.
The march was long and unpleasant; they were knee-deep in mud in no time. Between the sinuous trees, Devi had to start slashing through thick spider webs to make her way forward. She did so with grimaces of disgust. If the fire and smoke would not have exposed their presence, she would have burned them all.
“What a wonderful walk. Clearly, we should follow your plans more often.”
“Clearly,” she echoed grumpily. “I came in the summer. The way wasn’t so mucky and grimy then.”
“That, or you’re lost. It doesn’t look like anyone has been through here in a decade.”
Devi snorted. “I’m not lost.”
She wasn’t sure whether she was lying. She’d been rather confident of their course, but Vale had a point: it didn’t look like any elf had walked here in eons.
“It wasn’t a well-traveled road back then either,” Devi explained, for her benefit as much as for Vale’s. “My sister took me. She used to come here when she wanted time to herself.” Seeing an opening through the thick trees, she beamed and pointed. “There! Cheer up, we’re almost at Hillsides! And if Kira has left her supplies, we might even find a way to make a fire.”
“Otherwise known as a great way to announce our location to anything tracking us.”
She rolled her eyes and turned to him. “I’m not as stupid as you’d like to think I am. A blackfire, Blackthorn.”
Vale’s expression brightened. “You can make blackfire? Why do I hear of this only now?”
Blackfire didn’t create smoke, emitted no light, and did not burn, but it was a powerful source of heat used by scouts during harsh winters.
“I can’t without supplies. Another reason to head to the cave now.”
“I might have looked upon your scheme more favorably if you’d opened with, ‘Valerius, you’ll stop freezing your balls off if we head over there.’ Keeping my extremities intact is high on the list of things I’d risk a potential orc raid for.”
She laughed. It wasn’t that cold, was it? Devi’s armor had a low-cut neckline and ended above her navel, yet she didn’t feel the need to wrap her coat around herself. She was a child of winter.
She let go of Alarik’s reins for a moment and walked back a few steps to stand in front of Valerius.
She put her hand on his chest over his cloak and pushed a small amount of fire energy through.
"There.” She lifted her eyes to his face. “Better, you big baby?”
Gazing deep into her eyes, he observed, “Your eyes always go blue when you use magic. Even fire.”
Oh, standing so close to him had been a terrible idea. Now she had to put up with the full force of his violet eyes on her, and the way his very presence set her core on fire.
“I can’t say I’ve ever noticed,” she mumbled, and stepped back. “I don’t typically train in front of a mirror.”
“Thank you, Devi. But now I know you can do that, I may have to request it a time or twenty.”
“I think not. I have to preserve my energy.”
At last, Devi spotted a narrow bridle path to their right and sighed in relief, glad she hadn’t led them astray.
“There. A stranger to these woods might follow that path, but to get to the caves, we need to stay in the woods and hike up the hill from the other side.”
“The orcs might still follow our footsteps or scents if they’re led by a half-decent tracker.”
Devi chewed on her lip as she thought it out. Her mind made up, she asked Vale, “Can you take the horses and go forward at least five hundred feet?”
“And why, might I ask?” Vale said, disinclined to obey again without the details first.
“I can make it snow, I think. To cover the tracks.” Reluctantly, she admitted, “But I can’t control that very well, and if things go awry, I’d rather not have any living things around me.”
Her lack of control over water and ice frustrated her greatly. Had Vale mocked her, she might have taken it to heart, but something in her tone must have clued him in, because he made no remark other than, “Whistle if there’s trouble. Can you imitate a bird?”
She winced. “Badly. But I can try to talk to you through the wind. Either way, go ahead, I won’t be long.”
Devi waited a furlong away and muttered, “Let’s try not to mess this up.”
She closed her eyes and did her best to concentrate.
Devi didn’t have to strain to find the element as she had as a child. She focused to keep it in check, and when she believed she had a hold of it, she opened her eyes, looking up at the sky, and let go. Just one moment, not even a second.
The sky roared, enraged, and a bolt of lightning flashed, almost hitting her. The heavens came down harder, soaking her through with ice-cold rain.
That wasn’t what she’d intended. “I said snow!” she muttered, eyes cast skyward.
She tilted her head, measuring how much of her power she could reasonably use.
This time, she pushed her energy outward for three whole seconds, her attention fixed on the clouds. She smiled when the first snowflake landed on the tip of her nose.
Devi looked down to find the ground frozen beneath her feet. Horror seized her chest, and she ran forward. Everywhere around her, there was ice. No. Not again! Not him…
She stopped in her tracks.
Five hundred feet into the woods, Vale was waiting with the horses as he said he would. The ground was frozen all around him, but her ice had stopped in front of his feet, as if it had hit a wall.
Her gaze moved from the patch of frost, to the muddy ground under his boots, and then to his eyes as she tried to comprehend what had happened.
Did he have a protection charm on him? Nothing else made sense.
“Neat trick with the snow,” he said, pointing up. “And the ice, too. The snow might not have stuck to the ground without it. Our tracks will be hard to—”
“Do you have a spell against elemental magic? A charm or something?”
Vale shook his head. “I might own one or two at home, but none in Asra, and besides, we left in a rush. Didn’t exactly have time to pack. Why do you ask?”
Because her out-of-control ass could have killed him and the horses, too.
She looked away, bashful. “I lost control. I could have hurt you.”
Actually, he should have been hurt, as he’d been standing within range of her powers. That line on the ground made no sense; her ice never just stopped.
Vale shrugged indifferently. “You obviously didn’t.”
She lifted her eyes to him, confused.
He specified, “Lose control, that is. This looks like an intentional barrier. Glad to know you care, little elf.” He winked, so nonchalant even though he could have died a second ago. “Besides,” Vale added, “don’t think me a weakling. I’ve fought many elemental mages long before you were born. Strong as you are, you’re no danger to me.”
Devi blinked. “You don’t consider being frozen in place dangerous?”
Vale smirked, smug as ever.
“You’re so full of shit it’s a wonder you don’t stink of manure.”
“Fine. Let us prove it. Come at me.”
He was seriously insane.
“Go on. Freeze me. Give it your best shot.”
Devi huffed. “You have no idea—”
“No, you have no idea, little elf. And you’re frightened of yourself because you think too highly of your little tricks. So, do it.”
She walked to Alarik, grabbed his reins, and started her walk uphill, ignoring him entirely.
“All right, not ice, then, if you’re such a craven. Burn me. Use whatever wind you may command. Make the ground shake beneath my—”
She didn’t let him finish; Devi spun round, hand outstretched, and blasted air right into his chest. The wind was strong enough to put any grown male on his ass. Wasting her energy in that way right now was foolish, but also so very satisfying.
She grinned, looking forward to watching him eat his words. Then her smile dimmed.
One instant, Vale had been right in front of her, in the path of her magic, and now, there was nothing there.
“As I was saying…”
Startled, she stiffened and turned to find him right next to her.
“You’re not that dangerous, Devira. Not to me.”
Twelve
A Cave with a View
Devi served him the silent treatment for all of three minutes before giving in. “How did you do that, anyway?”
He kept his smirk in check. “I’m fast, that’s all. How far up is that cave of yours?”
“We’re close. It’s tucked out of sight, right below the ridge.”
The cave was ideally situated, its entrance narrow and inconspicuous. As the hill towered over the forest, one could see for miles without being spotted.
Vale had to admit the chit had been smart tonight. Without guidance, orcs were of little consequence, but someone had led the horde straight to them, and until Vale found out who controlled them, he didn’t wish to face his enemy unprepared.
If the orcs followed the road out of the Graywoods, they wouldn’t cross paths; if they tracked them, despite the five inches of fresh snow covering their trail, they would see them coming from miles away.
They would not be surprised.
Vale entered the cave carefully, scanning it with his mind. He found no soul worthy of note, only small animals and the occasional snake or spider. As they walked deeper into the dark entrance, the cave expanded, growing large enough for them to march side by side with the horses in tow. The ground was uneven and sleek. The smell and humidity weren’t pleasant, but it would do for a few hours. Perhaps they could resume their rest and take turns keeping guard.
Devi beamed when they reached the back of the cave. His eyes had adapted to the darkness; someone had crafted wooden shelves and two stools of rock. The craftsman’s skills were rather rudimentary, but they’d made it work.
“She obviously hasn’t come back here in many seasons, but her supplies are here,” Devi said, moving to stand in front of the shelves.
Small flasks, potions, stones, and charms occupied the shelves. After some rummaging, she exclaimed victoriously, “There it is!” and took a dark stone in her grasp.
She held it in both hands and closed her eyes, concentrating for an instant. Then, Vale exhaled deeply, contentedly, as a wave of heat radiated from the female.
He and the horses stepped forward, eager to get closer to the source of warmth. She threw the stone over her shoulder, and he caught it in midair.
“Set it on the table, would you? It won’t damage it.”
Vale carefully placed the blackfire stone on the wood table and sat on one of the two stools. They were considerably too short for him, evidently made for children.
“Your sister is handy.”
“She had to be, here. At Elvendale, many eyes constantly observed her. When she found this place, she resolved to tell no one. She made me swear I would never betray her secret hideout to any elf. It’s lucky you’re a fae—or a scion-fae thing, I guess—or we would still be outside.”
Curious, Vale asked, “Are you bound by your oaths in the way of the fairfolks, or can you break your word?”
She grinned. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
He would, actually, very much so.
“Devira, can you lie?” he pushed. She was elf and fae, a combination he’d never encountered.
“Can you?” she countered.
Vale frowned. “No, I...”
“You’ve been told you can’t lie your whole life. Have you ever tried? You’re the son of Orin; that makes you a first-generation scion like my father. I’m not sure how it all works, but with your mother a strong scion herself, your blood is over fifty percent on the godly side. So, can you lie? Or are you bound by oath?”
He opened his mouth and closed it again. The thought had never crossed his mind. In one breath, she’d challenged everything he knew about himself.
“I don’t know.”
“Well, try. Tell me something untrue.”
Having never lied in his existence, he hesitated, stumped.
“Say my hair’s golden or that you’re a lesser fae.”
“You’re an idiot.” By all gods. The words had actually crossed his lips. “And
you’re annoying. And I quite detest provoking you.”
Lies, lies, and more lies, all coming right out of his mouth. He blinked, astounded at his newfound power.
“There you go.”
“So you can lie and break your oaths.”
“I can lie,” she confirmed. “And as for breaking my oath, I will never find out.”
Never. An easy word on such young lips.
“Will your sister be angry if we keep her stone?” he asked to change the subject.
“Hopefully not, because we’re taking it either way, along with this,” she said, pocketing a flask.
Vale saw a dark red liquid within and asked, somewhat hopefully, “Wine?”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s a healing draught. This, however,” said she, picking up a much larger bottle from the ground, “is cider. We weren’t too fond of wine at fifteen.”
The bottle was still full and sealed, so there was a chance it hadn’t soured yet. She opened it, took a tentative swig, then downed a quarter of the liquid in three healthy gulps.
He watched with his arms crossed over his chest, refusing to beg for a share. If she was playing a game, he’d make her regret it on another occasion.
After another taste, she laughed. “Don’t look so grumpy.”
Devi bent down to retrieve another bottle and chucked it his way. He opened it and tasted the drink.
Fruity and a little dry, but agreeable nonetheless.
“Thanks,” he said gratefully before standing up. “I’ll take the first guard. You should try to sleep.”
Devi shook her head. “There’s only one blackfire stone. I’m not so cruel as to withhold it when the weather cannot actually hurt me, but I don’t like being cold. I’m coming.”
Vale didn’t argue against an outcome that suited his fancy. They each carried a stool to the cave entrance and sat side by side, watching the horizon. Devi had insisted he keep the blackfire in his grasp, and for a time, he did. Then he took her hand, tugging at it until she understood his intent. She got up and came to sit on his lap. Vale wrapped his cloak around her shoulders. If she was to speak, she would have to protest, mock, and insult. If he was to say anything, he’d have to tell her truths she wasn’t ready to hear. They remained silent, sharing their warmth. Alarik and Midnight soon joined them, attracted to the heat.
