by Sam Ledel
“He manipulated many. However, I believe he is under the service of another.”
“The dark force? The one threatening your queen?”
Before the elf could respond, a curdling scream split the silence behind them.
Aurelia’s heart sank. “Jastyn.”
Coran capped the flask, and they took off. The elf bounded beside them through the trees. “Where are you going?” he asked, jumping nimbly over exposed roots.
“Our friend’s in trouble,” Coran explained.
“You don’t have to come,” added Aurelia.
The elf smiled. “I am at your service, Princess. Please, let me.”
Aurelia nodded as they sprinted through the last lines of trees. Through the towering trunks, she could see what looked like a dark cloud descending over their clearing.
She slowed. “What is that?”
The elf snatched an arrow from his quiver and positioned it in his bow. “The dark force. Stay back.”
He jumped into the depths of the tree branches, and Aurelia heard his bow string as it released. She followed the blazing blue of his arrow. Moments later, a piercing howl shook the ground. Exchanging glances with Coran, she ran faster while the fae let a series of arrows go.
When they reached the clearing, the dark cloud had vanished. Aurelia sprinted for Jastyn. When she stood over her, Aurelia’s stomach dropped at the paleness of her face. Jastyn’s eyes looked through her as if she’d seen a spirit from the Otherworld.
“Jastyn?” Aurelia crouched. “Jastyn, can you hear me?”
Her hands traced down Jastyn’s face, running down her freckled cheeks to her chin. “Jastyn, please speak to me.”
Jastyn stared blankly, trembling. Frightened, Aurelia turned. “Please, she needs help.”
Coran wrung his hands where he stood next to Drest. The fae, who had knelt to examine his former companion, stood and hurried to join Aurelia.
“She’s been in the presence of the dark force.” The elf held up one hand, running it from Jastyn’s head to her feet an inch above her body as if feeling for something they couldn’t see. He held both palms over her heaving chest. He closed his eyes, murmuring under his breath. Aurelia glanced at Coran, who shrugged.
The elf finished his incantation, and they all held their breath when Jastyn’s breathing stopped. Her eyes closed, and when they opened again, Aurelia was ready to weep with relief at the familiar glint in them.
“Jastyn!”
Jastyn looked around as if unsure where she was. Her gaze landed on Coran, then Aurelia. Upon noticing the elf, she asked, “Who’s this?”
Aurelia wiped a tear from her cheek. “He’s one of the elves who had worked for Drest.”
Jastyn looked from him to her, then lunged. The elf zoomed back, standing five paces away in less than a second.
“Whoa,” Aurelia held out her hands, gently pushing Jastyn back. “He’s good. He’s working with us now.”
Jastyn continued to glare at the fae. “So he says.” Aurelia couldn’t help but smile at her protective nature.
“He’s on our side,” Aurelia reassured her. “Now, drink some water. And please, let me tend to this wound.”
Grumbling, Jastyn drank water and leaned back so that Aurelia could sit behind her. When they were both situated, Aurelia inhaled. She’d seen her mother do an arrow extraction dozens of times. Aurelia was confident in her ability but was not looking forward to the pain that would make Jastyn wish she’d never met her.
Carefully, she gripped the base of the arrowhead, her other hand on the shaft. “Ready?”
She felt Jastyn’s body tense. “Ready.”
Right as her hand tightened, the ground began to shake.
“What now?” Aurelia exclaimed.
“Horses,” the fae said, moving to stand in front of them. Coran, wearing a look of panic, hurried to his feet.
Aurelia dropped her hands, instead gripping Jastyn’s shoulders. “Is it the elves?”
The fae squinted through the trees. His nostrils flared. “No. They’re human.”
Aurelia swallowed. Jastyn fought to sit up against her. “Don’t even think about it,” Aurelia told her. “We can handle this.”
Standing next to the fae, Coran conjured his spell-fire as the elf readied an arrow in the direction of the noise, now unmistakably a legion of horseback riders. Aurelia pulled Jastyn closer, peering between the legs of the fae and Coran as the first pair of horses broke through the trees.
The elf pulled back his bow. Aurelia blinked, uncertain she was seeing correctly. But the colors of the riders belonged to only one kingdom.
“Wait!” she cried, raising her arm to halt the fae’s arrow. “Don’t.”
“Who are they?”
Coran’s spell-fire dissipated. He fell to his knees. “Thank the gods. We’re safe now.”
The elf frowned. “I don’t understand.”
Aurelia’s breath caught in her throat. The swirl of emotions overtaking her chest made it hard to think. Part of her never thought she’d see them again. Now, suddenly, here they were.
Finally, she managed to speak. “It’s all right. My mother and father are here.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Her mother and father led a legion of twenty guardsmen on horseback across the clearing and over to their group as the sun peeked over the treetops.
Aurelia gingerly placed Jastyn back on the ground and couldn’t help but notice the way her body shrank away from the incoming royal party. She wanted to reach out and assure her she had nothing to be worried about. Her mother and father were there to help, to bring them back home.
Aurelia’s steps faltered. Home. The idea of the castle and returning to the kingdom was not a welcome one. As her mother and father approached, Aurelia stared at her parents, waiting to feel elation or joy or the faintest glimmer of happiness. She willed even a whisper of relief to appear. Deep inside her chest, though, she felt only pain.
“Aurelia!” Her mother dismounted first, a flurry of navy cloak and flowing braid. “By the gods, you’re all right!” She ran to Aurelia, followed quickly by her father as he practically fell from his horse, clamoring to his feet to join them. Aurelia stepped forward to meet them and was crushed in a long-awaited embrace.
“I’m all right,” she muttered against her father’s chest. Her mother’s arms wrapped around her, and Aurelia inhaled the scent of chamomile and sage, a smell so distinctly her mother she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed it.
Her father stepped back. “Darling, we thought we’d lost you.”
Aurelia glanced between her parents. In the time she’d been gone, they looked as if they’d aged five years. Her father’s beard, which before had only a few gray whiskers, was now peppered with silver. The shadows beneath her mother’s eyes startled her, but her voice was as bright as ever.
“Sweetheart, I can’t believe it. I’m so happy you’re all right. Thank the gods.”
Aurelia smiled, stepping back. Her parents’ hands held hers, their fingertips outstretched when she let go as if they were unable to stand the space she put between them. She motioned to the trio standing behind her. “They are who you should be thanking. I’m safe because of them.” She noticed the elf’s inquisitive gaze. “Well, mostly.” She smiled at Coran’s puffed chest as he wiped his hands on his pants before stepping forward.
“It’s an honor,” he said, shaking both of their hands. Her father frowned.
“Don’t we know you?”
Coran beamed. “I work in the stables,” he said before moving past them to pat the noses of the horses, who whinnied in recognition.
Her mother nodded. “Of course. Young Coran Feirmeoir. You are incredibly brave to have come so far.”
Coran’s cheeks flushed, and he busied himself with adjusting the reins of the nearest guardsman’s horse.
“You’re too kind, your majesties.” He paused. “You wouldn’t mind tellin’ Roisin that I’m alive, would you?”
“I am a visitor from the north, currently a servant to the Princess Aurelia Diarmaid.” The fae spoke eloquently, drawing himself up until he was almost a foot taller than each of them. Aurelia could tell her parents were intrigued but, thankfully, asked no further questions regarding the fae’s presence.
Aurelia cleared her throat, suddenly self-conscious. She stood next to Jastyn, who still lay on the ground. “This is Jastyn. She led the latest party through the Wood to find me.”
Her father bowed his chin. “I recall seeing you in the market. I’m glad to know you used my gift well.”
“That’s how you found us,” Aurelia noted with excitement. “The Light of Triur.”
Her parents nodded. “We saw it about ten miles to the east. The blaze is unmistakable.” Her mother’s gaze fell to Jastyn. “Thank you for leading us to our daughter.”
Jastyn tried to stand, but her mother shifted closer. “Dear, you’re hurt. Please,” she glanced at Aurelia, “let me help you.”
Before Aurelia could say anything, her mother knelt beside Jastyn, who looked as if she wasn’t sure whether to try to run or block her mother’s hands as they assessed the arrow. Lips pursed, her mother pricked the arrow tip with her forefinger, slowly bringing it to her mouth. Running her tongue over her teeth, she sighed. “It’s not poisoned.”
Aurelia sat on the other side of Jastyn. “Thank the gods.” She brushed a hand through the strands of Jastyn’s hair that had fallen over her sweat-laced forehead. She caught her mother’s gaze and ignored the inquisitive look.
“On three, I’m going to break the arrowhead. All right?” her mother asked Jastyn, who hadn’t said a thing. Aurelia longed to know what Jastyn was thinking, though she knew this couldn’t be easy for her. Still, her mother was helping. There wasn’t time for messy politics now.
At the crack of the shaft, Jastyn screamed.
“I know, I know.” Her mother tossed the arrowhead aside. Her hands cupped the rest of the arrow, new blood trickling out from Jastyn’s shoulder. A soft red glow surrounded the shaft, and Jastyn’s breathing steadied.
“You’ve numbed her?”
Her mother nodded. “Now, Aurelia, brace yourself against her while I get this out.”
Aurelia hurried behind Jastyn, holding her while her mother situated herself so that she could push the few inches of wood through Jastyn’s shoulder and out her back.
After a few agonizing seconds, her mother lifted what was left of the foot-long arrow. “There,” she said triumphantly.
“Do we need to cauterize it?” Aurelia asked.
“No,” her mother said, examining the wound. “The spell-fire took care of that.”
Jastyn sat back. “Thank you,” she said quietly, avoiding the queen’s gaze.
“Yes, thank you,” Aurelia said as her mother stood. Then she leaned down, placing a quick kiss on Jastyn’s forehead before joining her mother near the fire.
“It’s the least I can do for the woman who helped rescue our daughter.” Her mother’s smile was wide, and her eyes gleamed. Coran hurried over to Jastyn, helping her to sit up, bracing her arm against her stomach so that the shoulder could begin to heal in its proper place.
The king wiped his face, which was wet with tears. When he noticed Drest, his bushy eyebrows formed a V. “My, what happened here?”
Aurelia crossed her arms, suddenly weary with the memory of everything that happened. “It was Drest.”
Her mother and father looked from his motionless body to her. Her father frowned. “What do you mean?”
“He was behind Brennus’s death. He kidnapped me during Remembrance Day. Drest is responsible for this. He’s working for somebody…or something. I’m not sure.”
Her father’s face paled, but it was her mother who seemed to grow with fury. “I don’t believe it.” Her voice was eerily calm. She turned to her father. “We’re going to have to look into this. That means—”
“I know,” he replied. “Louarn and Enya will need to be questioned.” He motioned to Drest. “Is he—”
“Dead?” Aurelia shrugged. “We don’t know. The Light of Triur left him like this.”
“Good. He’s not dead.” Her mother motioned for the guardsmen. Two dismounted and stood on either side of Drest. “He’s in a stupor. When he comes to, he’ll find himself in chains.” She nodded, and the guardsmen lifted Drest, dragging him over to their troop. With some struggle, they placed him over the back of one of their horses, his arms and legs dangling lifelessly.
Her mother wiped her hands. “We will deal with him later.” She smiled again and moved toward Jastyn. “Now, I know which family to acknowledge for that young man.” She motioned at Coran, who practically danced with glee. “Please, tell me, which family do we have to thank for your outstanding courage?”
Jastyn pushed herself awkwardly up with one hand. Aurelia hurried over to her, wrapping one arm around her waist to help her stand. Jastyn’s body was still tense as her mother approached. When Jastyn didn’t respond, Aurelia nudged her. “It’s all right,” she said in her ear.
“I don’t think it will be,” Jastyn muttered. Their eyes locked, and Aurelia saw distress rampant in Jastyn’s gaze. Despite that, Jastyn sighed. “Very well. My name is Jastyn Cipher. I am the daughter of Branna Rhinehart, who is the wife of Elisedd of Marcra.”
A murmur swept over the guardsmen, and Aurelia saw her mother’s eyes widen. At the same time, her father’s mouth fell open.
Jastyn steadied herself, standing tall. “I am, as your family has deemed fit to call me, an Odium Child.”
Her mother stepped back. Her chin lifted, and she motioned for Aurelia. “Come, darling. It’s time to go.”
Aurelia didn’t move. “I don’t understand.”
“Interactions with an Odium are punishable by law,” Jastyn stated. “Your mother is simply following the rules.”
Aurelia’s face turned hot. She had to be hearing wrong. “Mother, you can’t possibly still believe all of that. Those laws were written nearly half a century ago.” She laughed, looking around. “A quarter of the village residents are fae.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“How?”
But her mother didn’t seem to hear her. She raised her hands, searching her palms. “I shouldn’t have.” She stared at Jastyn’s shoulder, her voice drifting. “I shouldn’t have…”
“You shouldn’t have…what? Helped Jastyn?” Aurelia’s voice rose. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Mother, you don’t truly believe that, do you?” Her mother stumbled back under the arm of Aurelia’s father.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but this is not a discussion to be had. You must come, now.”
Anger boiled over inside Aurelia. Her fists clenched, and she stormed forward. “What are you saying?”
Her mother, regaining her composure, pulled her shoulders back. “She is not one of us,” she hissed. “I am grateful you are safe. But please, Aurelia, you have to forget her.”
Aurelia froze in her tracks. “You can’t be serious.”
Her parents exchanged glances. Her father reached out a hand. “It’s complicated, my love. We can explain everything once we are home.”
Aurelia stared at her parents. She realized how often she pictured them like this, posed as they were, not unlike many of the portraits hanging throughout the castle. Painted in a sympathetic, kind light. Two leaders believed to be the soft hand of justice and strength. Two leaders continuing the long-held reign of the Diarmaids over the Kingdom of Venostes.
Except something was different now. The painting was askew. Aurelia cocked her head, trying to pinpoint what had changed.
Then she saw it. Her mother’s desperate grip on her father’s wrist. His hunched shoulders. The look of terror about what they did not know staring back at her. Aurelia ha
dn’t noticed before, but now she realized: that fear had always been there. That fear was what drove the Diarmaid dynasty to the throne and kept it there like an unwavering torrent.
“No,” she finally said, walking to stand beside Jastyn, who wore a look of shock. “Mother, Father…I’m not going with you.”
“Aurelia.”
“Jastyn has unfinished business. And I am going with her.”
At this, Jastyn faced her. “You are?”
Aurelia nodded. “As the nature of this business is uncertain, I cannot say when we will return.”
Her mother hurried forward. “Darling, you don’t know what you’re saying.”
When her mother reached out a hand, Aurelia swatted it away. “I know exactly what I am saying.”
“My love, listen to me—”
“No! For years you’ve blinded me to the truth. For years, you kept Brennus and me locked away in that dreadful castle you call a home, preventing us from knowing anything about the world. We were ignorant of the breathtaking places, the beautiful people,” she said, glancing at Jastyn, “the unbridled magic that fills this realm. I will not go back. I will not play the part and be locked away, tied to a throne that’s built on lies and deceit.”
Her father’s voice was the sternest Aurelia had ever heard it when he spoke. “You have no idea what our family has done to manage the weight of bearing this kingdom on our shoulders for as long as we have.”
Aurelia laughed. “And whose fault is that?”
She took a breath, her vision clearing. Her parents wore similar expressions: anguish and confusion. When her father moved to speak again, Aurelia cut him off.
“I won’t hear it. I am grateful that you never stopped searching for me.” She swallowed, the lump in her throat threatening to burst into tears. “Truly I am. But my place is not with you right now.” She paused, then turned to Jastyn, whose eyes lit with such ferocity Aurelia wanted to hold this moment in time forever. “My place is with her.”
The clearing was quiet, stunned into silence by her proclamation. Aurelia felt dizzy, unsure if all of the words that had poured from her had in fact been spoken aloud. But the resolute gaze of her mother was undeniable.