by Skye Horn
He looked up at her and did as he was told, rising to his feet. She had a soft glow to her skin that made him feel like he should avert his eyes, but when he did, she rested her hand beneath his chin, pulling his gaze back to her. He noticed then the seriousness upon her face.
“I need to tell you something, and you need to accept it calmly,” she said, and Kieran knew a look of pure confusion must have crossed his face. She brushed her thumb along his cheek. Her hands were as cold as the horse’s muzzle had been. “Thea is in trouble.”
“What?” This brought his attention away from the feel of her skin. His body straightened into the familiar stance of a soldier on alert and he looked around for the danger, as if it would approach him in his dream.
“My sister has tricked her,” Ainé said, her voice distant and sad. “It’s difficult for me to speak with you. I’m not sure how much time we have, but I reached you because of your bond with Thea.” Now, she smiled at him as if approvingly. His mind was swirling, though. Thea was in trouble and he needed to wake up, so why wasn’t he waking up?
“Remember, I need you to be calm. Thea gave you a sleeping potion.” Kieran felt a pang of hurt, remembering the tea Thea had given him and the exhaustion that instantly followed.
“But, why would she…”
“Morrigan showed the seer a vision of your death, Kieran. You mustn’t be angry with Thea.”
Kieran wasn’t in the mood to be told who he mustn’t be angry with. He was in the mood to wake himself up from the endless nightmare he’d just stumbled into.
Ainé watched him with a sadness he wanted to slap off her face.
“You can’t wake yourself up, Kieran. Do you remember the night you took Thea through the Threshold?”
“Of course.”
“Then you remember how soundly she slept. That was until you kissed her.”
Kieran recalled the very moment. He’d kissed the top of her head and watched her wake up immediately. It had surprised him at the time because she had not stirred for a second when he’d taken her through the clashing of swords or as they’d rushed through the forest.
“It’s a love potion?”
“Of sorts,” Ainé said with a small smile. “Thea’s mother knew you loved Thea, although I don’t think she knew exactly how that love would grow. She knew that you’d be able to wake her before you left her in that other realm.”
“So how am I supposed to help Thea then, if she is the only one who can wake me up?” Kieran’s anger was growing. He understood now why Thea always seemed so frustrated after talking to Ainé. He felt as if she were speaking in riddles.
“You’re going to help her by being prepared when you’re captured,” Ainé said, only increasing his confusion tenfold. “After speaking to Mirielle, my sister figured out where you’d taken Thea. The king’s men expect Thea to come to them, but he has sent others for you.”
“But why? He needs Thea, not me.”
“Because to get to Thea, he needs you, and right now, you are completely vulnerable.”
“I still don’t understand how I’m supposed to help if I’m unconscious.” He glared at the lake, feeling it might be rude to show the Goddess how he felt towards her right now.
“It won’t surprise you when Thea wakes you up, and trust me, she will wake you up, Kieran. I came here to warn you so that you would be ready, but now I fear I’m growing weaker and cannot hold this connection much longer.”
Kieran noticed the environment around them fading, and even Ainé looked duller.
“My sister plans to use Thea’s blood for a ritual on the solstice,” she said, her voice sounding distant.
“A ritual? A ritual for what?” He tried to grab Ainé’s hand, to stop her from fading away, but he could not touch her.
“There’s no time, Kieran. Thea needs you to be ready. We all need you to be ready.”
Kieran could hardly see Ainé anymore. He felt exhaustion pulling him back into the darkness, but before it completely engulfed him, he heard her whisper three more words.
“Trust your bond.”
And then he saw nothing.
Thea felt grateful for the extra sleep she’d gotten the day before as she rode long into the night. Her legs and back ached, but she didn’t dare stop. Faylon had left her to her thoughts almost as soon as they’d left camp, but Thea wondered what he thought of this mission. Having a familiar was still a new concept to her, but she hoped he didn’t have to go with her on a suicide mission.
It’s not a suicide mission, she told herself, yet again. The thought of facing her father made her sick to her stomach, but as they rushed through the forests of Ivandor in the general direction that Thea believed she needed to go, she reminded herself that the Goddess would not give her something she couldn't handle. She replayed each and every piece of advice Kieran had given her in their short amount of training. She’d been riding for nearly ten hours, but not long enough for her to stop looking over her shoulder for enemies. She hated riding in the broad daylight; it left her open to too many dangers.
On any other occasion, she would have enjoyed the beautiful landscape. It was her first time traveling outside of the Grimwalde territories, and the snowy forests soon turned into stunning rolling green hills as if the seasons could change overnight. She wanted to stop and sketch the massive mountains in the distance or the way the sun rose over the hilltops. Sketching would have been a much-welcomed distraction at this point, but it was a luxury that would have to wait until after she survived this encounter.
Thea’s feet tightened around Faylon’s sides as a sudden gust of wind swept around them. She’d sensed it seconds before it touched her skin and known it was not an ordinary breeze. It caressed her cheek and tickled the back of her neck; she shivered. Faylon made a noise of protest when it blew the hair of his mane into the air, his nostrils flaring at the intrusion. Thea shushed him, certain to have heard something, but saw nothing as she looked around. The gust picked up once more, this time spinning around her body like a small tornado. It made her catch her breath as it whistled against her ear. She felt the magic pulsing in the air and imagined for a moment that Kieran had escaped the sleeping potion.
Could he be trying to get my attention, she wondered.
The wind pressed down upon her, forcing her to listen, and so she did. She listened, trying to understand exactly what message the magic was trying to convey.
“What is it?” she asked, frustrated. If Thea was right, she only had a couple of hours’ ride left until she reached the castle gates. Faylon had slowed his pace, concerned about the gust of wind around them, but Thea gave him a quick nudge. They couldn’t afford to slow down.
She lowered herself against Faylon’s back, her eyes stinging from the wind. He lurched forward, and as they tried to outrun the magic, Thea swore she heard the word Trap howling around her. A fresh flutter of nerves twisted inside of her, but she tried to focus straight ahead.
“How much farther?” She spoke loudly because the wind had not yet died down. Instead of whispering messages of traps, it tried to throw her off Faylon’s back. She clung to him as tightly as she could without tearing his mane out.
We’re nearly to the outskirts of Ivandor now. It is only a couple of hours from there to the castle.
Thea nodded her head but said nothing more. She looked behind her again, imagining an onslaught of enemies at her tail, and ignoring the nagging feeling inside of her chest.
She’d done the right thing by leaving alone. After all, it had been Mirielle’s idea, and she’d gotten the vision directly from Ainé.
But as she thought the words to convince herself, they made less and less sense to her.
As they neared the place where Faylon said the borderlands of Ivandor were, Thea’s emotions took center stage. This was her home, or should have been, if her father had not been such a terrible man. She should have grown up on these lands, learning how to control her magic, but instead, she’d grown up knowing nothing ab
out who or what she was. She knew her adoptive parents had loved her, and she hated the thought of never knowing them. However, she also had never known her biological mother. This land was full of things that should have been, but never could be.
That would change.
She thought of the life Kieran had given up here for her. She thought of all the people who had fled because of her tyrannical father.
That would change.
She thought of Morrigan seducing her people with darkness, corrupting them and corrupting the beauty of these lands.
That would change.
She saw the destruction that the darkness had brought upon her lands as they entered it. The grass grew less green the farther in they came. The trees died, and the birds ceased singing. The still, icy air cut her to the bone, and she clutched her cloak tighter around her as Faylon slowed to a walk, his breathing steadying. She knew she had asked a lot of him by the telltale signs of his exhaustion. She felt an immense amount of gratitude for her familiar’s strength and determination but noticed the way his ears flattened against his head the closer they came to Ivandor. The tension in both of their bodies electrified the air.
“Tell me it wasn’t always this way…” Thea said quietly to Faylon.
Ivandor used to be the most beautiful of the four kingdoms, he told her, his voice thick with grief. Thea continued to stare at the death and destruction that surrounded them, but stopped when her eyes focused on a single image just barely visible ahead of them: a woman.
Faylon tensed, having spotted her at the same time as Thea. She walked toward them swiftly, an army of creatures Thea had never seen before following behind her. Some, who appeared as men, held swords and wore soldiers’ armor. Others had wings like Kieran and soared into the sky above Thea and Faylon. Most, however, were hideous creatures that skulked and crawled behind their leader. Thea and Faylon stood frozen, watching as the mass approached, led by a single female Fae, Amara. The word Trap whipped around Thea like a slap in the face.
Chapter 19
“Well, well, well,” said Amara in her casual, sing-song voice when she got close enough. “My big sister has finally come home!”
Thea’s fingers twitched in Faylon’s mane as she contemplated turning tail and running, but seeing the Fae flying above kept her in her place. She knew when she was outnumbered, and Faylon had exhausted himself getting here. There was no way they could outrun anyone. Her heartbeat quickened as Amara stopped about a hundred yards away from them, taunting her with a knowing smile.
“Morrigan knew you’d be here,” Amara continued, not waiting for a response from Thea. “Daddy sent me to bring you back to the castle. Afraid your pony won’t be welcome, though.” Faylon made a vicious-sounding noise, and for a moment Thea pictured him impaling Amara with his horn. She stroked the side of his mane carefully and leaned down to press her lips to his ear.
“Go to Iris. She needs to hide Kieran,” she whispered, before slipping off of his back. The only response he gave was to press his nose to her cheek momentarily and then he was gone, quicker than Thea had ever seen him move, despite his exhaustion. She knew he would do what he was supposed to but feared she would be the death of him at this rate. If this was a trap, then Thea needed her family to know she’d been captured. She definitely couldn’t fight them all by herself, and she had officially lost the element of surprise. She would have to figure out another way to not get herself killed, all while hoping Iris could save Kieran.
“Leave it,” Amara told her soldiers, who looked like they were about to go after Faylon. Thea let out a breath of relief and then held her hands up as if to show she did not mean to attack.
Time for plan B, she thought and pulled her hood off. She looked directly at Amara, meeting her sister's eyes with a look of pleading.
“It doesn’t have to be this way, Amara. You don’t have to do what he says.” Thea didn’t know if this type of negotiation would work, but she imagined she’d survive longer with Amara on her side, especially since Amara probably knew how to control the others. She thought of all the things Amara had done since her arrival here and tried to push back her hatred by thinking of Iris. This was Iris’ daughter, and she was only a child. Thea needed to protect her.
Amara didn’t seem to see it this way, though. Instead, she laughed along with rest of group closest to her. As the group of about two-dozen began circling her, Thea felt like a rabbit in a trap.
“Father only needs you for the ritual. After that, he’ll realize that I’ve been the loyal one.” She spat on the ground beside her and then raised her arm.
So this was about gaining a father’s love and approval; that was predictable teenage girl behavior if Thea had ever seen it before.
Amara stretched her fingers toward Thea and then curled them inward, pulling her body forward by force of magic. Thea fought against it, but it was no use. She could only pray that Faylon would get to Iris in time to get Kieran to safety. She realized now that she’d left him completely defenseless and kicked herself mentally. If anything happened to him because of her, she’d never forgive herself.
“What ritual?” Thea asked, trying to stall. She was curious what ritual Amara spoke of, but that didn’t change the extremely dangerous situation she was in.
“You’ll see.” A smirk pulled at the corners of her lips and her red-rimmed eyes sparkled.
“Amara, your mother—”
CRACK.
Thea’s head jerked to the side as Amara’s palm met her cheek. Her smile had disappeared and Thea’s eyes stung as much as her cheek did. She turned to look at Amara with a glare and found her anger mirrored back at her.
“Don’t talk to me about that whore,” she growled. “She left me.”
The crowd had gone quiet, and everyone watched Amara with curiosity. Thea momentarily felt bad. Amara had never known her mother. She only knew what her father had told her, and Thea thought she’d probably look for someone to blame too if Malachi had raised her. Her own mother had made sure that would never happen.
“She loves you, Amara. She had no choice but to leave.” Thea reached for her sister’s hand, her voice thick with sympathy. Amara snatched her hands away, but for a second, Thea swore she saw a glimmer of wondering in the younger girl’s eyes. It quickly changed back into anger, though.
“Get her out of my sight,” she snapped to two creatures standing closest to them. Thea was not sure, but she imagined they might be ogres. She swallowed hard and then tried not to gag from the stench as two sets of meaty hands closed around her arms and pulled her away from her sister and into the mass of other soldiers. Thea looked around at the creatures she’d read about in books as a child, but they didn’t look friendly in the slightest. Centaurs stood around her, shirtless, with pointed ears—they were all men. Their manes flicked from side to side just as Faylon’s did, and their human hands gripped swords and shields. One smiled at her as the ogres pulled her past, showing a shiny row of pointed teeth that made Thea’s breath catch.
“Don’t get too close; they bite,” one ogre growled while the other laughed a thick, liquid laugh. Snot shot from its nose as he looked at Thea, landing on her cloak in a green mess. He grinned.
“You’re a little thing. Not even enough for a snack.” He pushed her, and it took all her might not to fall over. Her arm ached from the contact, and she could tell a bruise was already forming on her skin. The ogres were twice her size, but she had one thing over them: magic. She focused her energy on the earth beneath her feet, and as it began to shake they let go of her, stumbling backwards. Everyone around her looked over in surprise, and Amara rushed over.
“I suppose we are related,” she said as vines shot out of the ground to bind Thea’s arms behind her back. “I’m an earth user as well.”
Thea stared at her sister. She was sure that her father must be aware she could control all the elements by now, but it appeared that she still had a little surprise left in her. He hadn’t shared all his knowledge wit
h the captain of his army. She wondered if it would be enough to save her life.
Thea said nothing in response to her sister and did not bother fighting the hold on her wrists. She knew she could have burned the vines off, but she didn’t need to waste her energy or give away the element of surprise. Instead, she allowed herself to remain bound and stared ahead as they continued to walk. Amara whistled and two wolf-sized dogs appeared at her side. They each had glowing red eyes and snapped viciously at Thea’s ankles as they walked. Their paws were no ordinary paws. They were monstrous, with razor-sharp claws that tore the earth they walked on. The part of these canine creatures that Thea found most interesting, though, was their hackles, which appeared to be made of actual fire that danced wildly down the center of their backs.
Above her, the winged Fae flew ahead to scout for trouble, while to each of her sides the ogres and centaurs chanted about returning the Lost Princess to her tower. Thea had never felt more alone than now. She wished desperately for Kieran’s strength beside her, all while being thankful he was nowhere near the catastrophic mess she’d gotten herself into.
Amara chatted loudly ahead of Thea with a centaur about how proud her father would be of her. The centaur didn’t look interested, but Thea imagined Amara forced him to listen to her talk often. She was nearly skipping, and kept looking back with a wicked grin, to make sure Thea was still there. She’d sometimes tighten the hold on Thea’s hands uncomfortably, letting the vines dig deep into Thea’s wrists, but Thea never let her pain show. After her one failed attempt at reasoning with her sister, she’d decided to save her energy for the meeting with her father.
When they reached the gates of the castle, Thea held her breath. Large vines of thorns climbed the high castle walls, making it impossible to climb. Amara walked Thea directly through the village on the way there, so that she could see the terrible life and suffering of the humans who lived there. They wore simple rags as clothing, and the children were filthy and thin. The laughter and pleasantry of Grimwalde was the polar opposite of Ivandor. They stared at her with wide eyes as Amara taunted them, saying that their savior had been captured and posed no threat to Malachi. She threatened violence against anyone who dared to disobey the king or her, and Thea regretted the promise she’d made to Iris. There were no Fae in the village, only malnourished humans. One man threw a stale loaf of bread at Amara. Thea only knew it was stale because of the loud sound it made when it hit Amara upside the head.
