by Everly Frost
Since he can understand me the same way that Treble can, I plant my free hand on my hip and look him squarely in the eyes. “Yes. It was my fault.”
Flare’s eyelids lower until his eyes are narrow, white slits, his eyelashes a surprising shade of amber despite his thick coat of black hair. He extends his neck toward me, stomping his hooves and shaking his mane aggressively enough that Nathaniel steps between us protectively.
Nathaniel doesn’t know what I went through to tame my thunderbird and that this animal’s aggression scares me far less than the wolves. Flare may be fueled by flames, but his power is no more frightening to me than the crackling lightning I’m used to dealing with.
When I chose Treble, I climbed the northern mountains alone and hiked for days until my feet were bloody and my water ran out. I passed twenty other birds, but it only took a glance for my heart to tell me they were wrong for me. I found Treble on the highest peak and that was when the real challenge began. I had to earn his respect—just as he had to earn mine.
It’s time for me to make an equally aggressive move.
“Don’t expect an apology,” I snap at the horse, dropping Nathaniel’s hand to circle toward Flare.
My power rushes through my arms, snapping and crackling around my fingertips as I advance. “You think it’s hard to spend a day alone. Try seven years surrounded by people only to discover that you were alone the whole time.”
Flare’s eyes fly wide at my approach. He rapidly backs up, a quick thud-thud of his hooves as my power flickers dangerously in the air around me, sizzling and sharp, leaping like lightning between us. A tendril snaps close to his forehead, making him jolt.
Flare darts a look at Nathaniel, who watches us carefully but doesn’t make a move to get between us.
With a quick snort, Flare digs in his hooves, stomping his foot at me again, trying to reassert his dominance with a clear warning to keep my distance.
I ignore the message, drawing to a halt a mere few inches from his smoking nostrils.
Leaning forward, I look him in his white eyes and whisper, “You don’t scare me.”
He returns my gaze for a second. He’s quiet, but it’s a ploy—and I know it. Heat gathers around his belly, racing along his neck as he prepares to smother me in acidic smoke.
In a great gust, he exhales all over me, but I’m already holding my breath. I refuse to close my streaming eyes.
I raise a single glowing finger through the haze and tap Flare’s nose.
A spark of starlight shoots through his soft nose, streaking up his forehead, lighting up the outline of a surprising diamond shape before it sizzles past his right ear and away into his mane.
He jolts and blinks back at me, suddenly becoming very still.
“Do we understand each other?” I ask.
I wait another moment, my fingertip hovering above his nose, ready to tap again if I have to.
His eyes glow, an eerie brighter white for a second before they fade again.
His answer is to lower his head and stretch out his front right leg to lower his shoulder.
He’ll only give me a second to accept his gesture, so I don’t hesitate, taking a step for momentum before I leap upward. Planting my hands on his withers, I swing myself over his back, landing neatly in place behind the satchel and pelt.
Flare doesn’t stand nearly as far off the ground as Treble does, so it’s not that daunting sitting on his back. I don’t anticipate that he can gallop faster than Treble can fly, so his speed shouldn’t be a problem for me, either.
I smile down at Nathaniel. “He forgives you.”
Nathaniel grins up at me, his arms folded across his chest. His gaze passes from my face all the way to my thighs, where I grip Flare’s back. “It certainly looks like it.”
I arch my eyebrow at him. “I’m not sure how you’re going to get up here, though. Since I’ve taken up the prime position.”
“I guess I’ll have to take the easy approach,” he says, striding toward us.
This time, Flare doesn’t react to Nathaniel’s presence with a cloud of smoke.
Reaching out without pausing in his stride, Nathaniel lightly taps Flare’s right shoulder in front of my thigh.
Flare immediately lurches forward, kneeling so far down that I have to compensate by leaning backward so that I don’t fall right over his head. I bump downward as he rapidly folds his hind legs too. He ends up lying on the ground and I end up with my knees pulled up around my ears to avoid my feet getting caught beneath him.
Nathaniel slips onto the stallion’s back behind me and Flare rises to his feet again. The whole maneuver takes place so quickly, I’m still catching my breath as Nathaniel settles in behind me, the front of his thighs pressing against the backs of mine. Wrapping his left arm around my waist, he reaches past me to take hold of the reins.
He pauses, his cheek brushing mine. “Have you ever ridden a horse before?”
I give a small shake of my head. “It can’t be more difficult than riding a thunderbird.”
A soft chuckle escapes his lips, his dark eyes lighting up as he considers me. “You might be surprised. Let’s take it slow. Once you’re ready, I’ll let him run.”
His body presses against mine as he leans farther forward. “Flare, take us to Null, but go easy. Aura doesn’t need another fall today.”
Chapter 6
Flare sets off at a gentle walk, but I sense his restraint. I’m sure he isn’t used to having a leash put on his fiery inner nature. Just like Treble, he would rather be traveling at full speed than this stately pace.
Still, it’s an unfamiliar motion. I didn’t think it would be harder than riding a thunderbird, but—dear stars—it is. Unlike when I’m flying on Treble, our path is uneven and Flare’s unfamiliar gait requires my uninterrupted concentration.
Nathaniel’s grip around my waist tightens as he leans forward. “Flare will take us southwest to the edge of the Gallows, but we’ll travel within the cover of the mist for as long as we can. Most of the land just beyond the Gallows is worked by farmers. They don’t come too close to the Gallows if they can help it, but there’s still a chance we’ll be seen.”
Seeming satisfied that I’m not going to lose my seat, Nathaniel leans back again, but not far. On his way, he drops a kiss against the back of my exposed neck, a light and unexpected touch.
The contact makes me shiver hard enough for him to feel it.
“Cold?” he asks, reaching past me again to pull the pelt from Flare’s harness.
He passes me the reins and I grip them tightly, nervous about being in charge.
The air wafts through the sudden gap between our bodies as he leans back to slide the pelt over my shoulders and rest it down between us.
I tug the pelt closer around my shoulders. Now that we’re not running, the cold is starting to seep in. The thermal properties of my armor will keep me warm enough to stave off any sickness, but the pelt will ensure I stay warm. My people never wear animal skins. We don’t eat meat or kill animals for any reason, so I should probably feel disgusted wearing this fur. Instead, it’s oddly comforting.
“The pelt will help you blend in,” Nathaniel says.
Yesterday, I attempted to pass Nathaniel off as a fae by dressing him in a fleece coat like the Harvest Fae wear. Now I guess he’s trying to make me look more human by placing the pelt around my shoulders.
I’ve never seen a human woman, but since Nathaniel looks very much like a fae, I imagine that, at a distance, I might look human. My eyes are a dull green, not bright like most fae, and my skin is pale. The rings beneath my eyes are dark, my lips are colorless, and my hair looks like an old fae’s. I don’t imagine that the pelt will confuse anyone who sees me up close. Even if my whiter-than-white hair doesn’t give me away, my armor will.
“Is it really worth pretending I’m human?” I ask.
“It’s essential. Any human who thinks you’re fae will attack you without mercy. The same way your people wou
ld have attacked me if you hadn’t protected me.”
I sigh. “I protected you by treating you like my prisoner. You could do the same to me?”
He shakes his head at the corner of my vision. “That won’t work here because it would mean I’d have to take you to the King. That’s the last place you should go.” Despite the warning in his voice, Nathaniel presses his cheek to mine for a brief moment before he drops another startlingly light kiss against my jaw. “This pelt isn’t only for camouflage. You faced the wolves. You deserve this fur. Consider it yours.”
I brush the edge of the fur, finding it softer than I expected. “You said that two kills is dishonorable, so I’m assuming this pelt isn’t yours.”
He gives me a quick nod. “It was my mother’s. She wanted you to have it.”
“But she didn’t know me—”
He’s already reaching past me and the question I want to ask is brushed away as he flips open the satchel and rummages around inside it. First he pulls out a flask of water, which he hands to me. Then a strange-looking yellow fruit that resembles an apple. It tastes pulpy and not as sweet as the fruit in Bright. I’m too hungry to worry about the taste.
Finally, he reaches into the satchel again, saying, “This will confuse any humans who see you from a distance.”
He pulls a black scarf from the satchel. The material makes a whispering sound as he runs it through his hands that tells me it’s spun from a substance as fine as silk. “For your hair.”
He presses the scarf into my hand, his fingers closing around mine before he releases the scarf into my possession. It’s softer than I thought Fell material would be and has a light stretch.
He continues. “Before we get to Null, we will pass through a place called the Bitter Patch. There are plants there filled with a sap that you can use to dye your hair black. I tried harvesting some of the sap to see whether I could bring it with me, but it dries out, so this will have to do until we get there.”
Careful not to bump Nathaniel with my elbows, I quickly retie my braid, wrapping it into a bun before I secure the scarf around my head with a firm knot at the base of my neck. It fits securely around my face while I run my fingers around the edge to make sure there are no visible strands of hair.
“Now you’ll pass as human,” Nathaniel says, a smile in his voice. “The only one you won’t fool is Mathilda, but that’s only because she knows you’re fae. Other than my mother, she’s the only one who knows what my father said before he died.”
“What about my armor?” I ask.
“What about it?”
I tilt my head toward him. “It’s fae.”
He steers Flare around a gnarled tree that is more stump than anything else. “Humans were designing armor long before the fae. We didn’t have magic to protect us, so we had to use what we could. What you’re wearing is a copy of a human design.”
I can’t hide my disbelief. “My armor looks like human armor?”
“The human army wore armor very close in design to what you’re wearing now,” he says. “Most of our armor was destroyed in the last battle, but some of it still remains in the royal armory and many families have suits of armor that have been handed down through the generations. Those pieces of armor are treated like relics, but they’re still functional.”
“But… I’m female. I thought your army was all male.”
He laughs, a deep rumble, as he adjusts his arm around my waist. “My father may have led the army, but my mother trained the soldiers.”
“Your mother did?”
His tone remains casual. “She trained me. And many others.” He quickly clears his throat, as if he feels the need to explain. “After my father died, King Cyrian asked her to continue training a new generation. But only boys this time. She did what he asked.” Nathaniel’s tone hardens. “Then he turned them all into his hunters.”
Nathaniel falls silent and I consider the way his arm has clamped around me, the heavy silence, and the sudden absence of kisses—just when I was getting used to them.
“The hunters don’t only hunt animals,” I say. “Do they?”
“They don’t. They use the skills my mother taught them to punish anyone who speaks out against the King. They’re extremely dangerous.” He inhales a deep, calming breath. “As the King’s Shield, I rank above them, but that only means they stay away from me. I don’t control them. We should avoid encountering them at all costs.”
I remember the way he hurried me along at the border yesterday morning before we took to the air on Treble. He told me that others were coming and we didn’t want to be around when they arrived. “Are they the same ones you wanted to avoid yesterday morning?”
“They are.”
I lean into him. “Did your mother train anyone else after that?”
The smile returns to his voice. He drops another kiss against my cheek at the edge of the scarf. “There’s a story among my people that my mother—she was called Luciana—trained a new generation of warriors in secret. Nobody knew the location of her training ground or who was trained. There are whispers that one day, Luciana’s warriors will rise up against Cyrian and his hunters and overthrow him.”
“Is there any truth in the rumors?”
His lips whisper across my ear. “Whether or not there is, you now wear her pelt, my family symbol on your face, and armor that passes as human. As long as they don’t see your hair, they will believe you’re one of hers.”
I suck in a sharp breath, twisting to him before I discover that moving so suddenly was a really bad idea. Turning around on a horse is not the same as twisting around on Treble. Nathaniel catches me before I bounce right off Flare’s back, carefully tightening Flare’s reins at the same time so the firehorse comes to a stop.
“Is this your plan?” I ask. “To turn myth into reality?”
He purses his lips. “I can’t tell you, remember?”
“But you just told me—”
“A story. Nothing more.” He exhales softly. “If I can use a long-held spark of hope among my people to keep you safe on the way to Null, then I’ll do it. I’ll use everything at my disposal to make sure you aren’t threatened.”
I find myself gripping his torso. “I can’t walk around dressed in a lie. Not when they should fear me.”
“They shouldn’t fear you.” Carefully easing out of the reins, he slips his hands under the pelt and wraps his fingers around my waist and hip. “I’ve seen into your heart. You don’t strike unless you have no other choice.” His gaze pierces mine, but there’s a hint of unexplained pain behind it. “When you kill, it’s as clean and as quick as you can make it.”
He firmly maneuvers me around on the horse so I’m facing forward again. Then he reasserts the position of his arm around my waist and urges Flare to resume walking.
“If humans have armor, why didn’t you wear yours when you came for me?” I ask. “You would have been much safer in it.”
I sense the shrug of his shoulders against my back. “There isn’t a suit of armor that fits me. My father’s was damaged and I refuse to wear it.”
His father was stabbed in the back three times before his horse dragged him home again. Somehow, he survived the blast of my starlight before that.
I have a sudden thought. “Was Flare your father’s horse?”
“No. Cyrian killed that horse long ago—”
“Killed! Why?”
“He harvested the dark magic inside it.” Nathaniel’s response is unemotional, but it feels forced.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“It was a long time ago.” Again, he shrugs. “When I became the King’s shield, I bargained for Flare’s life. I keep him away from the castle as much as possible.”
Flare’s ears twitch and I sense his need to run. I need to move also, need the wind in my face to battle the uncertainties I’m facing.
“I think I have the hang of riding now,” I say.
“Then you might want to hold on,” Nathaniel w
hispers to me, making me shiver in anticipation before he says to Flare, “Take us to Null, Flare. And go as fast as you like.”
I don’t ignore Nathaniel’s warning. I already sense the energy building inside Flare’s body. Despite the visible flames, his body isn’t hot beneath my calves when he draws a deep breath. When he moves, it’s going to be as wild as when Treble takes to the air.
I lean low and brace, comfortable now with the proximity of my body to Nathaniel’s. His arm is a firm anchor around my waist, and his chest is a shield at my back.
As soon as I settle my weight, Flare’s back legs bunch and he leaps forward, breaking into a gallop so fast, it snatches the breath from my chest. He darts between the trees, navigating the environment as if he knows it as well as Nathaniel does.
I spend the next ten minutes relaxing into this new experience of riding a galloping horse, but the more at home I feel on Flare’s back, the more conscious I become of Nathaniel’s body pressed against mine. Every small movement Nathaniel makes helps me lean in the right direction to counteract Flare’s turns and to balance my weight to accommodate Flare’s gait, keeping us connected like a single unit on Flare’s back.
When we finally reach the edge of the Gallows, I expect the sky to open up ahead of us and let the sunlight through, but Nathaniel wasn’t exaggerating about the haze. The light is murky and impure, and the sky is gray. I can’t even tell what time it is because the light is the same everywhere I look. All I see are varying shades of darkness. At a pinch, we could be approaching the sixth hour of the morning, but I can’t be sure.
A field of crops fills the space in front of us as far as I can see. It looks like a form of wheat, waist height with slim stems, but it’s a muddy brown color, not honey-colored like the wheat in Bright. Sunlight is my weakness—sometimes I actively hate it—but I respect its power to help the environment grow and flourish. I’m not sure how humans survive without it.
Just as Nathaniel promised, Flare keeps to the edge of the Gallows, remaining within the cover of the mist. Above the rhythmic thud of Flare’s hooves, I sense slithering animals moving through the nearby fields, along with small, panicky furred creatures—maybe rabbits or whatever version of them the Fell have.
