by Sage, May
An old, wrinkled female with branches in her silver hair gasped and turned to her people. “A Rivers,” said she.
She was a lady of Farj, a princess of Elvendale, and the ward of Queen Shea, but in all her days, no one had ever thus received her.
All heaved, gulped, and choked before falling to their knees in prayer.
Downright praying, chanting, begging, and praising their gods.
Devi looked to Vale in horror. The asshole seemed amused.
She mouthed a desperate, “Help me.”
“There, there,” he said, more pleasant than she’d ever heard him. “Tell us of your plight. What are you fine people doing in this hole? The place isn’t fit for a rat.”
All right, almost pleasant.
The old female spoke for her people. “Creatures came to our homes, not fae or elves; things of horrors.” Orc or scions, she guessed. “They killed all our guards, all our lords, and they took what they could. We ran as fast as we could. I led my family here. Others went to the woods. Oh, please, Lady Rivers, we have nowhere to go.”
Devi glanced to Vale again, but this time he was silent.
“West,” she told them. “You will go west to the woods. There, you will find elves. Tell them Devira has sent you.” She undid the blue ribbon binding the braid running down her back, hands moving so fast her hair got tangled in the process. “Show this if they demand proof.”
The elves would recognize the elven silk and her scent.
“Elves!” The female gulped in horror.
Devi nodded. “You will be welcomed there. I am half-elf,” she said out loud. No fae had ever welcomed these words, but they needed somewhere to go, or they’d die.
Instead of cursing and panicking, the old female lowered herself to her knees and kissed Devi’s hands. “Thank you. Thank you,” she repeated like a chant.
Devi attempted not to grimace and stepped away as soon as she could politely do so.
“What the hell!” she whispered to Vale.
He snorted. “You’re the River in River-lands.”
She rolled her eyes. “Are you saying your people worship you like that in Carvenstone? No wonder you like it so much.”
“No,” Vale replied. “But Carvenstone isn’t the original home of my kin. We Blackthorns ruled in the Darklands before they were destroyed.”
She shook her head. “I don’t get it. They’re acting like I’m…”
“The sort of creature who brings water in a drought, giving life to barren lands? The last of one of the lines who created the fair folks? These lands will forever remember the deeds of the first high fae and its people will always believe in us. It is up to us to be worthy of their fealty.”
A daunting prospect.
“How does one go about earning such blind faith?”
Vale smiled kindly. “Running for a week without much of a break to sleep, eat, or rest and heading toward an enemy that outnumbers us a million to one, with the smallest chance of success, all in order to ensure the freedom of our lands, is certainly a promising start.”
Twenty
In the Name of the Goddess
Exhausted as they were, Devi and Vale caught little rest, for the peasants continuously whispered and prayed among themselves, their eyes on Devi at all times. She bore it well, although she was self-conscious.
“I’m leading the horses to the stream farther into the tunnels,” Vale announced. “They need water.”
Her eyes widened in panic. “I’d better come,” she said as casually as she could.
In other words, “Don’t leave me alone with them right now!”
Vale was deeply amused.
When they were out of hearing range of the common fae, he immediately took it upon himself to tease her. “I believe we may have found one thing you fear.”
“I’m not afraid,” she protested. “Just creeped out. I’m a person. I sleep and drink and use the latrine just like them. No one should be revered like that.”
“No one should,” Vale allowed, “but we live in a world where those who possess advanced strength and technology are called gods, even though they sleep, and drink, and use the latrines too. We cannot change the ways of this world. Careful,” he warned, pointing to the ceiling.
It had grown lower.
Vale frowned. “I’m not sure the horses can pass here. I do not recall this path. Last I was here, the horses could walk comfortably to the stream.”
Were they lost?
Devi beamed. “So, you aren’t always right.”
Ignoring her, he told Midnight to remain where he was and stepped into the darkness.
He felt no other minds, no thoughts from beasts, scions, or fae, yet as he advanced, his skin prickled and the hair on the back of his neck rose in alarm.
“If I were to ask you to remain behind, would you listen?” he asked Devi, somewhat hopefully.
“Nope, not a chance.”
Vale sighed, unsurprised. “Very well. Stay on guard, then.”
He pulled his sword and strode for half a mile. Then he stopped.
Fallen rock blocked the path forward, and right in front of the debris there was a girl—a young thing with skin of mahogany and eyes of fire.
“Hey! What are you doing here all alone?” Devi asked.
Vale lifted his sword to bar her way and shook his head. “This is not what it appears to be,” he told Devi.
He couldn’t feel her mind at all; it was as if there was nothing there, which meant her shields were stronger than anything, or anyone, he’d ever encountered.
The infuriating female rolled her eyes. “What, it’s not an ancient female who can pulverize us both without breaking a sweat?” she challenged. “You, typical male that you are, have missed the obvious: she hasn’t harmed us.”
Reluctantly, Vale lowered his weapon. It took all his self-control to let Devi approach the thing whose red eyes were so fixed and unmoving.
“You seem cold out here. Can I help?” Devi asked.
The thing smirked. “I do not feel the cold. No mortal may help.”
That didn’t discourage Devi. “Well, we certainly can’t if you don’t tell us what’s wrong. I doubt you’re stuck here of your own volition.”
The red eyes flashed and remained fixed on Devi for the longest time. Finally, it said, “You have ice in your veins.”
Devi shrugged. “That’s one way to put it.”
“Then perhaps you may be of assistance.” The thing lifted its hand and touched its own shoulder. “Behind my back. An arrow of fyriron. If I move, it will reach my heart.”
All they had to do was make her move, and the goddess would die.
Vale marched toward the thing, but he only made it three feet before his boots got stuck to the ground. Glancing down, he found them a foot in muddy sap. He turned to Devi, whose eyes were bright blue.
“Really?”
He’d seen earth magic traps before.
“Yes, really. Don’t you even think about hurting her.”
“There are seven gods who stood by and did nothing when our lands were taken. Seven gods who will join whoever is crowned overking. I say we get rid of her and reduce their numbers to six.”
“And I said don’t you think about it,” she repeated, practically growling.
Vale glowered at Devi. “You’re making a mistake.”
“Following our instincts and showing kindness are never mistakes,” Devi stated before approaching the enlightened. “I can’t control ice very well, but I can try. What can I do?”
“Freeze my heart,” said the goddess.
Devi blinked in confusion.
“Ice is the purest of the four elements. The strongest. It’d kill a mortal, but it’d just protect my heart. I’ll pass out, but I’ll live. Dig the arrowhead out of my shoulder blades before I awaken.”
Devi winced. “I’m not sure I can freeze your heart and nothing else.”
The goddess eyed her. “You’re a young thing who has yet t
o learn control.” She lifted her hand ever so slowly and placed it on Devi’s chin. “Take mine.”
Suddenly, Vale felt the female as she lowered her mental defenses. He took in thousands of years. War, death, hunger, rage, and sorrow. Styx—that was her name. The goddess wasn’t just taking a trip down memory lane, though; Vale could feel her purpose. As a youth, Styx had been volatile and quick to anger. With time, she’d learned the various stages of control. First, how to direct her mind, then how to command her spirit, and finally, how to dominate her power.
Nine hundred and seventy-four years. That was how long she’d remained in his tunnel, keeping its entrance hidden so no one could find her. She’d remained perfectly still, without eating or drinking a thing. She had borne many names and many functions, but above all, she was a goddess of will. And she shared it all with Devi, through a slight touch that didn’t last longer than a minute.
Devi gasped as Styx removed her hand. Then she touched the goddess’s chest and pushed a rush of energy into it.
Styx collapsed; Devi caught her before her head hit the ground and turned her onto her stomach. She plunged two fingers deep inside the flesh of her back. Blood oozed out of the wound—blood of the brightest blue.
“I got it!” Devi exclaimed victoriously and pulled out a fragment of silvery metal.
Then she removed her cloak and wrapped it around Styx’s bare shoulders. She carried the female past him, stating a simple, “You’re free.”
Vale looked down and discovered the sap had disappeared.
“I get to say ‘I told you so’ when this whole thing comes back to bite us in the arse.”
Twenty-One
A Little Detour
At the nearest intersection, Vale led them down another corridor; a few hundred feet into the belly of the hill, they reached a source of clear water. Midnight and Alarik were so good as to drink without protest, possibly because they were parched and exhausted.
Devi was furious with Vale, who had so unapologetically been willing to condemn Styx without knowing whether she was friend or foe, but she kept all accusations to herself. Truth was, she’d taken a risk. Again. This wasn’t Vale sparing a cute bird and sending it on an errand. If Styx proved to be an enemy, she’d be redoubtable, no doubt about that. But helping her had been worth it, considering the gift she’d bestowed upon Devi.
Never had she felt so calm, in and out. She was utterly at peace and in control of her fate. She’d always felt inadequate among elder fae, perhaps because something about them had seemed superior. Not their power, but their knowledge and wisdom. She possessed those now. She may not have experienced the ten thousand years of Styx’s life, but she had most of her memories and all her acumen.
And the goddess had gifted her more yet: control over her own mind. Over her powers.
Perhaps half an hour after Devi had frozen her heart, the goddess stirred on the ground.
“Do you need water? Food?” Devi asked.
Styx got to her feet and patted the dirty rags that clothed her. “I can do without either. I thank you, young one. I will not forget what you did here today.”
Styx then left the way they’d come in.
“I won’t apologize for helping her, Vale. I don’t regret it.”
“And I hope you never will. No matter. What’s done is done. Now, you likely won’t sleep well among the river folk. What do you say we borrow Styx’s chamber for the night?”
She grimaced at the thought of sleeping in such a gloomy place, but it certainly did beat the alternative. “All right. Let us fill the water bottles first.”
They settled in the narrow corridor, glad that at least it stank less than the rest of the tunnels.
“I’ll take the first watch,” Vale offered, sitting on the hard ground. “Come here. Sit and give me your feet.”
She eagerly obeyed and arranged her cot next to him. She then removed her boots before handing him her feet. His fingers pressed on all her sore spots. She moaned in pain and delight.
“You’re so very sore, and the skin is broken in many places. Do you ever complain?”
She shrugged. “I heal the blisters whenever we make a pit stop. They come back, but it’s not that bad.”
“Such a little warrior.”
“Excuse me, there’s nothing ‘little’ about me,” she retorted, succeeding in making him laugh.
Vale pulled something out of his bag and held it in front of her lips. Devi tentatively darted her tongue, and her eyes widened in wonder. Sweet and citrusy deliciousness. She opened her mouth and he popped the candy inside it.
She smiled, ridiculously happy. “I’d ask how you got a sour apple hard-balled candy, if I didn’t know it came from Elvendale.”
It had been her absolute favorite in her youth, and the confectioner had regularly sent extra to Elden’s home when he’d found out. Thirteen years ago, she’d left Wyhmur with a bagful of such delights.
“I don’t know if I should be mad you kept these to yourself for a week or grateful you decided to share.”
“You’re too tired to be mad. Just go to sleep.”
She shook her head. “No, first, give me the blackfire stone. It’s cold, and I can imagine it’ll only get colder during the night.”
“The temperature doesn’t vary as much in the tunnels. And you’re basically a furnace. Stay near me and I won’t freeze.”
She was relieved he’d declined her offer; she was too tired to move, let alone cast spells.
Devi was asleep by the time he was done with her feet, moving on to her calves. As daylight didn’t penetrate this far in the tunnels, she had no idea how much time had passed before he woke her, but she was well rested and ready for her turn standing guard.
Vale slept with his head on her lap. Devi found herself caressing his hair. It truly was as soft as it looked. He didn’t stir, sleeping as soundly as ever for hours on end.
And then, it was time. He woke up, they ate in silence and suited up with their strongest equipment. She checked her arrows, he polished his sword, and they both donned their maille.
They would cross into Corantius today—or die trying.
Devi tensed as they headed out of the tunnels. There was no avoiding the chamber where the river folk were assembled, and she dreaded any form of interaction with her worshippers. When they arrived in the chamber, the river folks were packing and getting ready to leave. A smiling little boy pointed to her and pulled on his father’s leg, betraying her presence.
“Lady Rivers!”
To her relief, they seemed busy and there was no bowing and praying.
“Might you also be traveling west?” asked the older woman who’d spoken to her the previous day.
Uh-oh.
“Well, I…We—”
“—would be delighted to have some company,” Vale cut in. “We are headed west, and it would be no hardship to see you through to Wyhmur before going on our way.”
Devi managed not to grimace. Vale would pay for that later. “Yes. That.”
“Thank you, my lord, my lady. Thank you.” And so the bowing started again.
“None of that, please. You may call me Devi. And this is…” She hesitated. “My traveling companion, Ruven Norfiel.”
The strangers did not seem to be the kind of folks who would prove untrustworthy, but tongues ran, and the fewer people who knew of Vale’s whereabouts, the better.
“An honor. I’m Telda Finch, and these are my little Finches and their loved ones. We’re but Godslilies farmers,” said the female, as they started to walk out of the tunnels.
Remembering the flowers brought a smile to Devi’s lips. “We saw some on our way here. They’re delightful.”
And so the Finches proceeded to give her a comprehensive account of all there was to know of their trade, their flowers, and their enchanting land.
Devi hadn’t questioned how she’d been recognized; even if Devin Farel and others hadn’t commented on it, she remembered enough of her mother to
know she was her likeness.
Telda revealed there was more to it. “Yes, all Rivers, from the very first, have borne an uncanny resemblance. I’ve seen the portraits in your ancestors’ great halls. You all have the same face, them bony cheeks, sweet mouths, and pert noses. Even the boys. There were only five Rivers: Tulmen of the Gorge had a daughter, and though he died young, he discovered these lands and brought them to life. His daughter lived to be seven hundred years of age, and then one day, she disappeared. Some say they see her in great white gowns on windy nights. Her husband was killed, you see. Very sad affair. But she had twins: two boys. The oldest had a daughter, your mama, Loxy. We were all sad when we were told she passed away. There was talk of a child, however, and we’re mighty glad you’re fine.”
“Two,” Devi revealed. “Two children. I have a twin sister. I haven’t seen her in some time, but she’s a lot more like our mother. Red hair, green eyes, and all.”
This was further cause for rejoicing among the Finches.
As they walked toward Wyhmur, following the hills, Devi relaxed. These people may be overly enthusiastic about her mere existence, but they were nice enough. By midday, they’d entirely stopped curtsying and bowing.
She rode ahead with the matriarch and Vale had taken the back. Every time she glanced at him, she saw him scanning their surroundings, his expression one of careful concentration. She smiled. Vale was very much a protector, too, although he’d never admit it. He’d wanted to get the river folk to their destination safely, although it added a few miles to their journey.
Devi felt her muscles, chest, and shoulders unwind when they reached the shade of the familiar white trees with red leaves of the northeastern woods.
“How much did that delay us?” Devi asked as Vale approached.
He didn’t appear to be concerned. “Four hours, perhaps? They slowed us down, but the Low Crest Bridge is just five miles north of here. I thought we might remain here, wait for the cover of night.”
She smirked. “Smart. But let’s face it, that’s not why you offered to escort these people. You, sir, are a softie behind that tough exterior.”
