The basilisk slumped over scorched earth and went silent. That’s when the male began to scream. He pulled his sword free, threw it down, and backed away. His widened eyes filled with blood. It trickled from the corners of his lips.
“Puh-poisoned,” he gasped.
I got to my feet, then stumbled when my legs, so recently squeezed, threatened to give way beneath my full weight. That left me holding myself up, blinking in confusion at the Fae male. Had he made eye contact with the basilisk? Had the beast struck him? I didn’t notice any wounds. His body spasmed. He fell to the ground on his back, shaking as blood continued to flow from his eyes, mouth, and now nose. By the time I reached him, he was dead, his bloody gaze trained at the ceiling of the sky. My body shuddered, ready to collapse.
Was it safe to look into the basilisk’s eyes once it was dead? I didn’t want to chance it.
I made my way to the Fae’s discarded sword and took a seat beside it. Using my fire to burn out any remaining poison that might have tarnished the weapon, I heated the metal from pommel to point. Then I waited for it to cool.
The sword was still warm when I picked myself off the ground, taking the blade with me. I could handle a bit of heat.
Now then, time to get back to the road. The first question was whether to head straight for the main throughway and risk running into the other half of the posse, or if I should play it safe and travel north through the woods again.
I groaned at the thought of trudging through mud a third time. Pits and stems, that would suck.
I set the blade down, took off my cloak, and returned to the fern where I’d stashed the egg. The mother hadn’t made it, but we could still save its baby. I rolled the egg carefully into my cloak, wrapping it up in the thick wool. Thinking about a slithery beaked thing with wings made my lips draw upward into my wrinkled nose. The things I did for love.
At least it would be a heck of a lot easier to portal an egg back to the Vasose Plain. I just needed an access point . . . and bath, and fresh clothes, and breakfast—or lunch—whatever was being served by the time I made it out of this Sky-forsaken forest to the nearest inn.
Sword in hand, I turned to head north when a vaguely familiar male voice said, “Stop right there.” I turned to find the younger male with his crossbow aimed at me. His face was red and sweaty as though he’d been running the whole way back. “Drop the sword.”
Pitberries! I couldn’t catch a break today.
Crispin
The insects weren’t as bad on the trek back through the woods. Maybe it was getting too hot for them, or maybe the mud caked over the front of my body masked my scent.
I followed the hoofprints through the muck, my jaw tight. Sword sheathed at my side, I placed my boots carefully over the roots and rocks hidden beneath the mirk. The kidnappers had shown no interest in grabbing up the swords Lark and I threw down. Their sole focus had been Lark. I agonized over the intensity of their hatred toward him. The young fool with the crossbow looked ready to loosen an arrow if Lark so much as breathed wrong.
Terror gripped me every step of the way. What if Lark mouthed off more, and they beat him senseless? What if he tried to flame them, and they killed him? What if I’d waited too long to trail them, and they got away?
What if I never saw Lark again?
No! I couldn’t think that way. I refused. I would catch up to Lark and his captors and save the fucking day!
I was surprised to see the hoofprints lead up to the scorched area of forest Lark and I had stumbled across. With skilled silence, I withdrew my blade from its scabbard and cautiously approached the area. Here was another bit of insanity that needed dealing with after I rescued my prince.
I was so ready to get out of these woods. Moving away from the scorched area made me feel slightly better until I noticed the withered trail streaking through the vegetation. It had killed everything in its wake.
My heart leaped into my throat. The basilisk was on the move and headed in the same direction as the hoofprints. Stealth mode was over. I sprinted along the burnt trail, beseeching Sky Mother to help me arrive in time.
My arms pumped, and my boots thudded over the ground. I must have looked like a savage streaking across the forest in my mud-caked clothes. If only Pervinca could see me, she’d probably reconsider our engagement. This is what loving Lark Elmray did to me. He turned me into a maniac. I’d never felt more alive in all my life.
I didn’t stop running until I stumbled upon the dead basilisk and the bastard who had marched Lark back into the woods. Seeing the male’s glazed eyes and the crusted blood covering his face only gave me momentary satisfaction.
Where was Lark?
I drew in, studying the beast closer. I’d seen various sketches in books. Some looked more like lizards. Some even had human heads, which was a disturbing sight to behold. But her true form struck me with awe the way I imagine some beings took to dragons and unicorns. I preferred oddities. The basilisk captured my imagination with her various animal parts all melding together to make one magnificent creature. Seeing her dead pierced a piece of my soul, but there was nothing that could be done now.
Lark’s cloak lay discarded over the ground, along with Curly Head’s sword. Cold dread gripped me again.
Lark never would have never abandoned a perfectly good sword.
The body of the younger captor was nowhere to be found, either.
Once more, I was running. Running. Running. Running. Then diving behind a tree when I heard voices ahead. I crouched over the earth and peered around the trunk.
The dick with the crossbow had been joined by two more males. They stood together talking. I looked around frantically for Lark before finally noticing him seated on the ground, back against a tree, his eyes closed.
My heart lifted with relief. He was alive. But was he injured? I couldn’t see any gaping wounds, but it was hard to tell peeking from the brush.
Two horses were saddled, tails flicking away flies while they stood waiting beneath the trees.
The two additional males had swords sheathed at their sides. I only saw the one crossbow. That was the male to take out first. Since they appeared to be resting, I kept down and waited. I’d built up years of patience and control. Lark was the impulsive one, not I. Listening and watching, I bided my time until the male with the crossbow paced closer and turned his back to me.
Up in a flash, I sliced his shoulder. Screaming, he dropped the crossbow. I kicked him in the back, away from his weapon. His comrades pulled out their swords and came at me.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Lark
What in the worlds?
My eyes flew open.
Crispin was a bloody fright in his mud-crusted clothes and blood-streaked blade. He kicked the male who’d previously held the crossbow to the ground. Murder flashed in Maglen’s eyes, but his calculating movements looked the most threatening.
Swords were drawn, and the other two males advanced on Crispin while their comrade crawled away, bleeding from his arm.
I jumped to my feet and sprinted after one of the males, only to be waylaid when the kidnapper on the ground grabbed hold of my ankle. When I tried to shake him off, his grip tightened.
Blades clashed when one of the males swung his sword at Crispin. The other male jabbed, forcing Crispin to disengage with the first attacker and spring out of bounds. That left the crossbow up for grabs. As one of the males bent and reached for it, Crispin sprang forward with his sword. The male jumped back, narrowly missing the tip of Crispin’s blade.
With my free foot, I kicked the male on the ground. His hold on my ankle loosened with a groan. I charged one of the males, tackling him from behind. We fell to the ground, where I shoved his face into the dirt.
Overhead, I heard the singing of swords with each parry and strike.
I tried to take the sword from the downed male, but he held on with a vise-like grip. I grabbed him by his shaggy dirty-blond hair, yanked his head back, and smashed it into the ground. He tried to r
oll me off. I pressed all my weight into my knee on his back. While he struggled, I pried the pommel from his fingers, wrenching the weapon free. I sliced his thigh deep enough to distract him while I helped Crispin. He and the last kidnapper lunged at each other with each strike of their blades. Cold determination had entered their eyes. It was a fight to the death.
Crispin backed the other male up to a tree, then struck, only to have his blade bite into bark. I nearly screamed when the male swung at Crispin’s neck. The earl ducked in time. He popped back up, pulling his blade from the trunk.
I hurried to the crossbow and grabbed it off the ground. Ditching the sword, I didn’t give Crispin’s attacker any warning before launching an arrow into his leg. He screamed and stumbled. Crispin lifted his sword, reminding me of a baseball player up to bat in the mortal realm. Crispin looked ready to take this male’s head off.
“Wait,” I said. “Let him live. Let them all live.”
Sword still raised, Crispin kept his focus on the male with the arrow protruding from his upper thigh. “They tried to kidnap you. Hurt you.” The fury in Crispin’s voice warmed my belly.
“I’m unharmed. It’s over. We’re safe.”
Crispin didn’t move from his spot.
“Let me decide their fates. Please,” I said softly.
At that, Crispin’s gaze flicked my way. He took his time backing away from the male, keeping his sword drawn with every little inch in my direction. I waited until Crispin was at my side to issue my command.
“You three, be grateful for my leniency. Tell your friends that change is coming. Not because of you, but because I love Dahlquist, which means loving the citizens of this great kingdom. If you want to be part of that change, you will advise your friends not to target the royal family.”
The kidnappers were wise not to answer. Crispin looked ready to cut them down if they uttered one wrong word. When the one with the arrow hobbled toward the horses, Crispin growled at him. “Leave the horses.”
The three males clustered together and limped away through the woods. Crispin and I didn’t speak another word until the kidnappers were out of sight. Once alone, we threw down our weapons and grabbed one another by the collars. Desperate kisses covered my face. Crispin’s nostrils flared. He breathed like he was running. I felt sloppy, too tired and relieved to worry or care about whether my kiss was as good as Crispin’s. It was like he was still in attack mode. No complaints on my end. I didn’t mind the onslaught.
He broke off and looked me over, eyebrows furrowed in concern.
“I’m fine, really.” I smiled.
He grabbed my face and began kissing me harder, like he wanted to punish me. I took it until he let up, his whole chest rising and falling rapidly as he panted. He shook his head. “You can lie.”
I shrugged. “Don’t tell anyone.”
Crispin gathered his hair into a fist behind his neck. Even in his rumpled, muddy clothes, he stood with dignified glory. “I can’t believe you tried to ditch me,” he said.
“I believe save is the word you’re looking for. I can’t believe you followed me.”
“You think I’d walk home and let those cutthroats have you?” Crispin demanded. His cheeks glowed red with anger.
I felt it seep into my heart. My smile dimmed. I folded my arms over my chest. “You were about to leave me before they came along.”
Crispin’s eyes snapped up, meeting my narrowed gaze.
“I told you the truth about how I feel. I love you, Crispin. You can’t lie, but you can do something far worse by saying nothing at all.”
“Fuck it all, I’m just trying to look out for my sister and my family!” Crispin spun around and kicked a clump of mud into the bushes. Some of it probably originated from his boot.
“Do you love me?” I demanded. He didn’t get to throw a fit and avoid the question. Not after what we’d just gone through.
When he released his hair, it fell silky over his shoulders. He squeezed his fingers into fists. His whole body was shaking.
“Crispin?”
“Yes!” he yelled, wheeling around to face me. “I fucking love you! Isn’t it obvious? I’m obsessed, okay? A lost cause. Hopelessly in love with the golden prince of Dahlquist. I love you, Lark Elmray.”
My heart grew three times its size. It felt like it might burst through my chest or grow wings. Soft white angel wings, not those horrible batlike ones on the basilisk. My arms and jaw loosened. A grin spread over my face.
“Hopelessly in love,” I repeated.
“Don’t get cocky.” Crispin rolled his eyes.
“I won’t lose you,” I told him. “I’ll marry you if I have to.”
Crispin scoffed. “That’s got to be the worst proposal I’ve ever heard.”
“Well, technically you’re already engaged. I don’t have time to dick around. But I will tell you this; if you agree to become my forever mate, I’ll throw you an engagement ball that will knock your pants off.”
Trim eyebrows rose over Crispin’s forehead. “Is that an Earth saying?”
“Sorta. They say socks, but I like saying pants instead.”
“Of course you do.” Crispin smiled. “Ready to ride out?” he asked.
“Sky, yes. But first we need to go back for the basilisk egg. Consider it an early wedding gift.”
“I haven’t said yes yet.” Crispin folded his arms and looked me up and down with consideration. “You didn’t actually propose.” When I dropped to one knee, the earl’s eyes expanded. “What are you doing?”
“This is how they propose in the mortal realm.” I took his hand in mine. “Crispin Maglen, Earl of Ashcraw, will you do me the honor of becoming my forever mate? To have and to hold, to love and cherish for all time?” I grinned. “In short, will you make me the happiest halfling in all the worlds?”
“Don’t call yourself a halfling.” Crispin frowned, all serious.
“Is that a yes?”
With eyes that shone, Crispin lifted me to my feet. “I’m yours, Lark. We’ll find a way.”
“Sooo, yes?” I smiled hopefully.
Chuckling, Crispin pulled me to his mouth and kissed me. When I tried to question him again, he kissed me with tongue, squelching any further resistance on my part.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Crispin
The air inside Father’s study was thick with his ire. “This is outrageous! Your nephew nearly got my son killed.”
“Father—” I began, before being interrupted by King Liri.
“Lark saved the earl.”
“We saved each other,” Lark tossed in, but the adults weren’t listening to him any more than they were to me.
After retrieving the basilisk egg, we’d ridden to the road. Not fifteen minutes into our return journey, Lark’s guard and King Liri himself had come upon us. From there, we’d ridden to Ashcraw while Lark retold the whole ordeal with flourish . . . as though it had been some kind of grand adventure.
His guard, Folas, was furious, of course. Lark apologized for knocking him out with sleeping powder, swearing up and down he’d never dream of doing such a thing ever again.
For his part, King Liri appeared amused by everything with the exception of the kidnappers. “They were lucky I wasn’t there. Their blood would feed the Farron Forest otherwise.”
When Folas launched into another rant over Lark’s recklessness, the prince had smiled cheekily and said, “Love makes us do crazy things.” To which King Liri replied, “Don’t worry, Nephew. We Elmrays get what we want one way or another. I’ll deal with the count.”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about being spoken of as a possession. All Lark had to do was flash one of his dimpled smiles my way, and I let it go. He loved and wanted me. I loved and wanted him back. That’s all that mattered.
Father didn’t see it that way. He’d marched us all straight to his study upon our arrival. Every second I was forced to wear my mud-splattered clothes felt like a worse punishment than his tongue-lashings
. He and Mother stood with their arms folded. Father had insisted Kenzie and Folas wait in the hall. This was a “private matter.” At least the king’s presence prevented Father from kicking Lark out straightaway.
“I have already promised my son to the Peppercuffs.” Father puffed up his chest.
King Liri didn’t need to posture. His golden crown was striking and his sharp gaze was imposing no matter what tone he used. He’d refused a seat and declined refreshment of any kind. When Father wasn’t blustering, he paced the room. Mother sat quietly in a chair, frowning tightly.
“The Peppercuffs have wealth, certainly, though not a drop of noble blood among them.” King Liri’s lips had a way of curling the slightest bit even when he smiled.
Father nodded. The king had hit on a point of agreement. “Their lack of pedigree is unfortunate, though marrying Pervinca to Crispin will change that.”
“For them,” King Liri stated. Father frowned while the king turned his attention to me. His smile lost some of its curl, appearing marginally warmer. “The earl could turn Miss Peppercuff into a countess, but Lark could make your son a prince.”
Mother gasped as though she’d never considered the possibility until the words left King Liri’s lips. Father’s eyes widened as well, and for the first time, he looked genuinely interested.
A gleam of triumph shone through King Liri’s eyes. He spun around to address my father. “Prince Crispin.” He let the words sink in.
My parents’ eyes lit up. Usually one to argue, Father kept his mouth shut for once.
King Liri lifted his chin. “And the kingdom’s wealth to go along with his esteemed position. What say you, Ralphio?”
Father moistened his lips and darted a glance at my mother before returning his attention to the king. “Who am I to stand in the way of true love?”
“Who indeed?” King Liri smirked.
I might have laughed if my heart and head weren’t reeling.
Lark took my hand, before I’d ever seen him reach out, and squeezed.
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