by Linda Kage
Her breasts slammed into my chest and her hair immediately clogged my face, while one of her knees caught me right between the legs.
“Owww!” I howled in pain.
“Oh God. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Oh no.” Nicolette scrambled off me, gushing, “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
She grasped my shoulder with a light, worried touch. “Farrow?”
“Fine,” I managed to rasp, still seeing stars, and not the ones in the sky. “I’m fine. Just…” Trying not to retch, I motioned toward the death sand and croaked, “Horse.”
“What? Oh! Caramel.”
She suddenly abandoned me and went racing toward the death sand.
“Wait,” I yelled—er, at least tried to yell. In actuality, it probably sounded more like a whimper. “Don’t get too close to the—”
But she was already skidding to a stop and remaining on solid ground as she reached out to grab Caramel’s reins, where pretty much only the horse’s head and neck were still above the surface.
Holding on to the horse for dear life, Nicolette dug her heels into the sand and growled as she pulled. But instead of making any kind of headway in saving the animal, she began to skid forward, closer to the puddle of death.
“Nic—” I lurched up onto my knees, ignoring the pain that sliced up from my groin to the base of my skull, and half crawled, half leaped toward her.
My arms locked around her waist, and I held on, bracing my own sandals in the ground, but that didn’t work either. We both started sliding toward Caramel and her neck promptly disappeared.
In the distance, Mint whinnied in distress, making me think he’d run off in a panic and gotten caught in another vat of death sand.
“Shit,” I grunted, tightening my grip on Nicolette as we both edged toward the rim of the pit.
“Farrow,” she cried. “We’re both going in. You need to let go of me.”
Let go of her?
Like hell.
“I’ll let go when you let go,” I grunted.
“But Caramel…” she tried.
I shook my head, straining, as sweat poured down my face. This was madness. Utter madness. The two of us could not save Caramel this way. But I wasn’t about to let go of my hold until Nicolette gave up the reins.
She looked up at me, our faces only inches apart. In the glare of the moonlight, I could make out every detail. Her compassion. Her determination. Her fear. And I could tell she was perfectly willing to die right now, trying to save the damn horse.
“Nic.” I shook my head and gritted my teeth, because I was perfectly willing to die, trying to save her. “It’s just a horse.”
“It’s a life,” she argued.
So were we. But I didn’t have the time to explain that I thought saving two out of three would be smarter than letting all three of us perish. Nicolette dipped suddenly, and I realized she’d been pulled into the death sand.
“No.” My arms burned as I held on to her, but I couldn’t pull her free. “Nicolette.”
She met my gaze again. “We’ll be okay.”
I barked out a harsh, disbelieving laugh. We were going to be dead in a matter of moments, but her unfailing trust in happily ever afters was still impressively holding firm.
I kind of had to admire that.
And then, as if to prove me wrong for ever doubting her, something crawled up the back of my leg and around my waist. I glanced down to find a line of scorpions roping themselves around me.
“Oh, hell, no.” I cringed right before the breath was sucked from my diaphragm as they tightened the chain they’d made around me and jerked me suddenly backward.
In one swift tug, Nicolette was on dry ground and Caramel’s head was back above the death sand. Three more later, and the scorpions had the horse free and on dry ground as well.
“Holy fucking shit,” I panted, finally letting go of Nicolette as soon as the scorpions let go of me. I dropped stomach-first to the ground and rested my strained joints as I tried to catch some oxygen. “That was too close for comfort.”
A few feet away, the glowing tails of the scorpions formed words. When I decided I was going to live after all, I sat up and read the scorpions’ words in the sand.
We told you to turn right.
“Oh!” Beside me, Nicolette sucked in a surprised wince. “They were just trying to warn us of the death sand up ahead, not take us off course.”
“Well, why didn’t you just say it was merely a detour?” I muttered, trying not to show my chagrin.
When the scorpions answered with, we didn’t know how to spell it, Nicolette shouted out her laughter.
I didn’t find it amusing in the least.
“I guess that’ll teach you not to make fun of other people’s spelling,” she chastised.
We reached the border of the scorpion queen’s domain the next night. They wished Nicolette and me a goodbye, telling us: Far Shore is just another day’s ride ahead. Happy travels and fair well.
After they departed, Nicolette shifted her gaze my way.
“Thank you,” she murmured, her eyes sparkling with delight.
I arched an eyebrow, confused.
She caught the look in the moonlight and explained, “For not teasing them about that last typo.”
I gave a single, baffled blink. “What typo?”
Nicolette gave a small hiccup of embarrassment and slapped a hand to her mouth; I could practically hear her blushing from here as she muffled out, “Um, never mind.”
Unable to hold the ruse, I burst out snickering. “Oh God. You should see your expression right now. It’s timeless.”
After bending over Mint’s neck to chuckle some more, I patted the horse’s mane as if sharing a joke with him. “But seriously,” I added on a content sigh. “Farewell as two words? Who taught those bugs to spell?”
With a put-upon huff, Nicolette rode just ahead of me. “They’re not bugs,” she sniffed. “They’re arachnids. And I thought they spelled admirably well. I can’t believe you teased me like that, either. It’s something my brother would do.”
I grinned, not at all repentant. “Aye,” I had to agree. “I’ve earned the ire of my sister Sable more times than I can count in similar ways.” My features turned rueful as I shrugged. “It’s the nature of a brother, I’m afraid.”
But as soon as I mentioned Sable, reality seized me. Fear, apprehension, and sadness swept over me. I wasn’t at all certain I could save my sister. But I was going to try anyway.
Just as Nicolette had tried to save Caramel from the death sand.
Nicolette glanced over at me, and I could sense her probing, curious stare. It was so intense, I found myself saying, “What?”
She waved a hand to dismiss whatever she was thinking, only to follow it with, “It’s just—whenever you mentioned your sister, you felt so—oh hey! You have a sister! Sable, you said? Is she the only sibling you have?”
“I—”
I silently cursed myself for mentioning Sable aloud. I hadn’t intended to ever tell Nicolette too much about myself. If I could have my way, she’d never learn about my lies or about me at all. I’d somehow return her home to her iron castle with her none the wiser.
Maybe I could fake my death and she’d always carry gentle, fond memories of me. Yes, I liked that idea. For I couldn’t stomach a reality where she would most certainly learn the truth and see me for what I really was.
She’d hate me.
“Farrow?” she said, reminding me she’d asked a question.
“I, uh, no. No more siblings,” I lied gruffly, not meeting her gaze. Clicking my tongue, I spurred Mint to walk faster. “We should pick up our pace.”
I didn’t want to admit it, but I kind of missed the glowing runway the scorpions had made for us these last few days. The journey felt a bit more aimless and a bit more hopeless without them.
Nicolette must’ve realized I needed noise to calm my anxieties, plus a change in subject to steer us away from the t
opic of me. She sidled up next to me and told me stories for the rest of the night.
I learned about her home, and her family, and nearly every aspect of her daily routine. She’d been quite an imp growing up, it seemed; she found herself getting into all kinds of mischief. But at least it seemed as if her family had indulged her for the most part.
“I was so upset when Father wouldn’t let me keep that lizard,” she pouted.
To which I had to shake my head. “You enlarged it to the size of a crocodile, my lady. It probably would’ve eaten you whole with one gulp.”
She let out a sigh. “I suppose you’re right. But Archie was such a sweet, tranquil creature. I honestly don’t think he would’ve meant to hurt a soul. And it wasn’t his fault that I accidently dribbled some magic potion on him. See, I’ve never been trustworthy around magic, even from a young age.”
All I could do was lift a brow and say, “Archie? You actually named him?”
Nicolette blinked. “Of course I named him. He was my pet.”
“Cats and dogs are pets,” I reasoned.
But she merely sniffed at the suggestion. “But they’re typical, boring pets. I wanted something fascinating and unusual.”
I shook my head, learning that going with the fascinating and unusual was her philosophy on pretty much everything. She always overlooked the traditional, mundane things and was instead drawn to the captivating and macabre.
No wonder why she liked me. I was definitely a disturbing mix of genes. Yet I wondered how fast she’d run if she only knew who both my parents were.
“I guess I can’t tease,” I decided, trying not to feel guilty about tricking her into thinking I was actually good enough to be her soul mate. “When I was nine, I befriended a rat.”
My father had thrown me in the dungeons for a week after my mother had died, when I’d tried to escape the stables to attend her funeral. The only thing to keep me company in my pit of despair was a single rodent who’d tried to steal my meals and chew off my toes while I slept. We’d developed a sort of truce by the end of my stay when I’d compromised enough to give him a portion of my rations.
“Did you?” The princess actually sounded delighted by my confession. A normal girl would’ve been repulsed. “What did you name him?”
“Rat,” I said flatly. “On good days, I called him filthy rat.”
She laughed. “And whatever happened to him?”
I shrugged. “I left him behind when I was released.”
“Released?” she echoed in confusion.
I nodded, my mind already wondering if Sable had a rat keeping her company now. “Hopefully the next inmate to share his cell treated him with the same respect I had, or they no doubt lost a couple toes.”
“Wait, you were imprisoned?” Nicolette realized suddenly. “At age nine?”
I sent her a sharp glance.
Sniffing in outrage, she demanded, “Who in their right mind would throw a child behind bars?”
I didn’t answer. She wouldn’t understand. In her world, only the bad were locked away. Thieves, murderers, molesters. She knew nothing of kings who sent their own children to the dungeon just because the mood struck.
Her innocence was such a pure, unadulterated thing. I found myself wanting to preserve it.
“Never fear, princess,” I said softly, not bothering to explain why I’d been thrown into the dungeon, merely adding, “I’m not dangerous. I would never harm you.”
But even as I said the words, a great sadness blanketed me.
I would never harm her, no. But all these lies would bring her excessive pain, anyway.
“Of course, you wouldn’t. Farrow…” She reached for my arm, but I shied my horse away from hers.
Closing my eyes, I bowed my head, not sure how to wade through all the guilt. Lying to her felt wrong. But honestly, would it have been any better if I’d been brutal and direct, letting her know my intentions from the beginning?
She would’ve been afraid the entire time and she would’ve tried to escape, so I would’ve been forced to restrain her with ropes and chains. I would’ve had to get rough.
This way had been much more humane. She felt no fear, experienced no confining discomforts, and could move around generously with the full disillusion of freedom. I mean, she was free now, but before—when I’d still thought to kidnap her—this way had been the most merciful route.
And yet I still felt sick to my stomach for putting her through any of it.
All she seemed to glean from my emotions, however, was the sadness.
“I’m so sorry, Farrow,” she said. “I can’t believe you ever had to go through such torment. Is that when you received all the scars on your—”
I lifted a hand to pause her. “It’s fine. Think nothing of it.” All the while, my guilt lingered. But I must’ve become adept at masking that because she said nothing else.
It had taken me a few days to figure out how to obstruct most of my feelings from her magical tattoo. I realized if I thought about just one emotion and concentrated on that, it shrouded most—if not all—of the others.
A nifty talent to have when deceiving your one true love.
Not that she was mine, mind you, but she certainly believed it, and she did have a knack for knowing what I was feeling, so I kept up the blockade.
“Did I ever tell you about the time I dared Indigo to ride a pig at the market?” Nicolette started in, changing the subject as she always did when one of us got too uncomfortable.
“You did not.” I narrowed my eyes as she brought up the bodyguard yet again.
He made an appearance in a lot of her stories. I didn’t want to admit why that irritated me so much, but she made it obvious she was quite attached to her Indy. The only thing that seemed to soothe my irritation throughout so many Indigo stories was the fact that she flirted with me at every opportunity.
Even though most of our days—er, nights—were spent in the dark on horseback, where I couldn’t even see her, she managed to brush against me, and smile at me, and touch my bare flesh whenever she could. She called me handsome and perfect, complimenting everything I did as if merely setting up a camp was the most brilliant task a man could accomplish. And sadly, I was letting her courtship get to me.
My skin began to crave every brush of her fingers, growing tense and eager, always anticipating that next sweep of contact whenever she was near. And when she talked, I couldn’t stop myself from slipping in droll little comments to her stories, hoping to make her bubble forth with that musical laughter of hers.
She was beguiling me, and I couldn’t escape it. She was the only human I’d seen or talked to in days, so it was the only thing I was exposed to. That was probably why her wooing was working so effectively. But I kind of hoped we never saw another living soul for the remainder of our lives.
I was becoming that addicted.
So when we crested a dune and I saw the outline of trees emerge in the distant horizon, something very close to panic and dread clutched my throat. The terrain had been changing constantly throughout the night, going from nothing but pure sand to small, dried cacti and mounds of boulders and rocks, slowly gaining more and more vegetation to dodge as we progressed. Yet it still surprised me to see the trees ahead with sunrise beginning to break over them.
Everything was going to change now, and I wasn’t ready for this time with just us to be over.
“What’s wrong?” Nicolette asked from Caramel.
Shit. I’d forgotten to block my emotions.
It was on the tip of my tongue to say, “nothing,” but when I glanced over and caught a glimpse of her face in the sunrise, I knew nothing wouldn’t suffice, not for her. She had that determined look that told me she needed an answer with substance, or she was going to pick until she got one.
Since there was no way to hide the inevitable, I splayed out a hand, motioning toward the changing landscape. “We approach Far Shore, my lady. Up ahead, there lies Dimway Forest.”
With a gasp, she whipped her attention forward and squinted until her eyes widened.
“That’s Far Shore?” Her face crinkled with uncertainty before she turned my way. “I just realized this is the farthest I’ve ever been from home.”
I nodded, because I knew.
“Our roles change here,” I reminded her. “It’s no longer my head we have to worry about if we’re caught by the wrong party.” Not that we’d had to worry too much about me with nothing but sand surrounding us. No one roamed the Vast Desert. And in the last five days of travel, we hadn’t crossed paths with anyone else, save the scorpions.
That wouldn’t be the case in Far Shore. This kingdom was congested with farms, settlements, heavily traveled roads, and woodcutters clearing trees for more thoroughfares. We’d bump into a new group of people every five steps.
“The first thing we need to do is hide that tattoo.” I checked it, just to see how much work hiding it was going to take, only to suck in a labored breath, because damn, she looked good in those silk scarves draping her.
“And then we’ll have to change you into something that doesn’t make you look like such a sand princess,” I added. But heaven help me, I was going to miss all that skin when we covered it up.
Nicolette grinned and rolled her eyes. “But I am a sand princess.”
“Not here you’re not,” I warned. “Say goodbye to your sand and heat now, my lady, because I’m about to introduce you to something you’ve never experienced before. The cold.”
Her expression lit. “Will there be snow? I’ve always wanted to touch snow!”
I shook my head. The girl should be fearing her life right now, and all she could think about was the idea of touching snow? How could anyone not be completely charmed by such a creature?
“It’s the wrong time of year for snow, but the nights will get chilly. You’ll have to bundle up.”
Batting her eyelashes at me, she said, “Or we could share body heat.”
I sent her a side-eyed glance that held barely the hint of a smile. “Behave, princess.”