I pulled out my paper again.
“As much as it can be avoided, certainly. But don’t worry, I won’t leave you to return to and from the lake unaccompanied. Not now.”
Because, yes, that was my concern. I rolled my eyes but didn’t attempt to refute him on paper. As Audrey opened the doors and stepped inside, he gripped my arm, holding me back for a moment and dropping his voice.
“We’ll make sure we head back to the lake with plenty of time this afternoon. And not just for safety. I need to talk to you while the sun’s still up because I need you to talk to your swans.”
He let go and stepped through the door without waiting for a response, and I was left blinking at an empty doorway. After a moment he reappeared, looking at me questioningly, and I shook my head and went inside.
Cora had launched a comprehensive spring clean, muttering the whole time about the building falling down around us. Somehow she even managed to draw Gabe into her efforts, the prince ending up on the roof, patching leaks. The woman was formidable.
Consequently, we were once again hurrying through the forest, having left later than we intended. I had insisted that we not leave the town together, waving the paper with my request in front of his nose until he at least agreed. If any wolves appeared on the fringes of the forest, I would throw awkwardness aside and honk at full volume to bring him racing to my side. But I didn’t want wild rumors filling the town about me leading the prince off into the forest.
As we walked, Gabe asked if I thought the swans would be capable and willing to complete a scouting assignment. When I looked surprised, he outlined all the reasons why they were the best candidates for the job and reassured me earnestly that he had no thought of them landing and putting themselves at any sort of risk.
“But it’s a big forest,” he said, “and wild animals aren’t the easiest to track. From the air the birds could cover a lot of ground, though—and who better to recognize beasts behaving strangely than other animals? If the swans could pinpoint a location—find a den for the wolves even—it would make our job a lot more manageable.”
Dark hadn’t fallen yet, so I had no words to tell him that his explanations and reassurances were unnecessary. My surprise had been at his suggesting such a reasonable and measured approach—one that didn’t involve exposing himself to any unnecessary danger. Actually, on second thought, it was probably a good thing that I couldn’t tell him the true source of my shocked expression.
When we reached the lake, I gathered my birds around me, explaining our request to them. They listened with interest, heads cocked to the side, only responding when I mentioned our morning’s encounter with the wolves. Then their feathers ruffled, and they honked and bugled in chorus.
“Yes, we know there was something unnatural about them,” I bugled. “And that’s why we need to find them. All we want you to do is to fly around and see if you can find any animals acting strangely. Especially predator animals.”
They clearly understood me, their feathers ruffling at the mention of predators. For a moment they seemed to be communing among themselves until Shadow gave a decisive bugle, cutting the rest of them off. She then dipped her head and tapped the ground once before looking back at me. Yes.
Shadow, with Sunny, Sammy, Stormy, and Eagle behind her, waddled into the water and took off, wings flapping and feet running. I looked at Snowy and Sweetie who had made no move to leave. It seemed I was to be left with some company. My eyes moved to Gabe. Extra company, that was.
He had already told me on the walk that he intended to spend the night in the forest again. He claimed it was to be on hand for the swans’ return, but I suspected he was motivated by some misguided notion that I needed protection.
After two years, I trusted whatever enchantment kept my lake free of dangers. But despite still having my paper on hand, I made no move to dissuade him. After all, it was possible it was actually a sensible precaution—if there was something unnatural about these particular animals, the enchantment might not work against them.
It seemed like a perfectly valid reason for wanting him to stay, so I made no further effort to delve into the possible reasons for my somewhat out-of-character acquiescence.
Chapter 13
There was nothing to do but wait for their return—and worry, but that hardly seemed productive—so I used the last of the light to show Gabe where he could find sweet, ripe berries. It wasn’t a difficult task as little bushes of them were tucked in odd spots all over the clearing.
When he commented on the strangeness of harvesting berries in spring, I shrugged. If I had my voice, I would have told him that at my strange lake, you could harvest berries all year round. It was one of the elements that fit into the idyllic, rather than villainous, aspect of my forest home.
The arriving dusk made it difficult to find the sweet treats, but it seemed to take an agonizingly long time for the last of the light to leave. Finally, however, I felt the familiar sensation of lightening pressure, and sighed with relief.
“Do you ever have a fire at night?” Gabe asked.
“No, I have no reason to light one.” The words flowed smoothly from my throat. I sighed again with the pleasure of it.
“Do you think the lake would be angry if I lit one tonight?” he asked.
“The lake isn’t alive, Gabriel. You can do as you please.”
I led him back to my shelter in the meager moonlight. The clouds were out tonight, and I could see why he wished for some light.
His voice in the dark sounded rueful. “It’s such a strange place, I can’t shake the feeling that it’s living somehow. That someone is watching us.”
I shivered. “I live here, remember? Please don’t go putting that idea in my head.”
I turned toward where I remembered seeing a small pile of branches earlier and collided with a solid figure.
“Oomph,” I said, elegantly, but his hands reached out instantly to grip me, so I remained steady on my feet.
He didn’t release me immediately, speaking instead.
“You will never have to spend another night here alone, Adelaide. I swear it.”
He kept his voice low—although there was no one here but my two swans to overhear us—and the darkness loaded it with depth and meaning. I shivered slightly, and his hands tightened around my arms.
“What a foolish promise,” I said, struggling to keep my voice light. “I’m under an enchantment, remember?”
“I never make promises lightly.”
And although I wouldn’t have believed it earlier, somehow—here in the warm darkness—I didn’t doubt his words.
His strong hands still held me, and the heat from his body radiated through the layers of clothing that separated us. I felt myself flush, the intimacy of the moment causing my body and emotions to betray me—giving in to the beguiling promise of his reassurances. How much I longed to know that I would not be alone again.
But here at the lake, surrounded by my swans, was not the place where I had been most alone. And the memory of that true isolation—filled with grief and terror—made me pull away from him.
“There should be some wood over here,” I said, proud of the steadiness of my voice.
It was dark, and he said nothing, so no doubt I imagined that I could sense his disappointment at my lack of reaction. And whatever his emotions, he quickly shook himself free and came to help me, both of us fumbling in the dark as we gathered some branches.
“We should have thought of this earlier, while it was still light,” I said, struggling to keep the moment light and impersonal.
His shoulder brushed against mine, and I made my hands move faster. We needed light, and we needed it soon—before my mind lost control again and forgot it was the reckless, heedless Gabe who worked beside me.
I wouldn’t have predicted the prince would prove more dangerous without his gold-flecked eyes and charming grin—but the darkness likes to make fools of us all.
When the first flame sparked into life, I sucked in a relieved breath and stood back. Gabe worked quickly, coaxing it into full life and feeding the small blaze until we had a contained and respectable fire. He sat down in front of it, and I carefully took my place on the opposite side.
The light sent shadows dancing across his face as he gave me a rueful grin.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t keep any food suitable for cooking here,” I said quickly, to fill the gap. “I only eat cold food out here usually.”
“No matter,” he said. “I ate well at the haven. You have an excellent cook.”
I agreed, marveling even as I did so at the surreal nature of the moment. I could never have imagined that I would find myself in such a situation, having such a conversation, with Gabe of all people. But, unbidden, the memory of all the other princes and princesses of our childhood flashed through my head, and I had to admit that I couldn’t think of one who I would have wished here in his stead. If an adventure was going to be forced onto you, then Gabe was an ideal person to have along.
I didn’t usually indulge much in reminiscences, but either this idle thought, or the flames themselves, put me in a strange mood, and I found myself reminding him of one of the funnier incidents that had occurred at Princess Daisy’s christening.
She had been born not long after Gabe began his years as a ward of her parents, so he had naturally been there, and my mother had taken me to Trione for the event. My father had kept Dominic back with him, and I had missed him at the time, feeling nervous to be among the other children without my older brother to shelter behind. But I had soon relaxed—and Gabe had played a large part in that.
Back then, he was even more good-humored and full of fun than he was now, and in the absence of both my father and my brother, I had been free to run and laugh with the other children like a normal eight-year-old.
Gabe laughed heartily, supplying a number of details I had forgotten and shamelessly blaming the entire escapade on his foster brother Teddy.
“Next you’ll be trying to say it was Teddy’s idea to climb that bluff above the beach,” I said.
Gabe just grinned. “You would have been up there with us, admit it.” His eyes softened. “Except that you were too kindhearted to leave my sisters alone, and they were too young to attempt it. You were always looking out for the younger ones.”
“Not just the younger ones as I recall.” I gave him a loaded look.
But even this reminder of the time he had injured his leg and been forced to stay abed for an entire week elicited no shame. It had been during an anniversary gala in Trione when I was twelve and he was fourteen, and he had attempted to sneak among a group of sleeping seals on the beach. He had been lucky to escape without worse injury. But he had merely laughed it off, saying he had not been able to resist the urge to have a closer look at them.
Personally, I suspected one of the other princes had dared him to do it, but he had never admitted to such a thing. Not even to me when I stayed by his side and read to him or played chess while the other princes and princesses participated in the various picnics and beach visits which had been planned for their entertainment.
The memories—of a life so different from my current one—rushed back faster and faster. I hadn’t thought of Teddy or his twin, Millie, in years, but I had always liked Millie, who was only a year older than me.
“Did either of the twins marry any of the newcomers?” I asked. “I don’t think I’ve heard any talk about a Trionian wedding.”
He shook his head. “The Old Kingdoms only sent princesses, and Teddy was too obsessed with his ocean girl to give any of them a second look.” He rolled his eyes, but there was a laugh in his voice.
“His ocean girl? That sounds ominous.”
“It was two years ago now, and he doesn’t talk about her anymore, but he sometimes gets this look in his eye that makes me think he hasn’t forgotten. Poor fellow.”
“Was it some Trionian girl? Did his parents not approve?”
“I don’t know that his parents have a strong feeling either way—given there’s a very real chance he dreamed her up.”
“Oh no.” I started laughing. “Oh, Teddy.”
It was the sort of thing someone would say about the crown prince of Trione. The heir to the island kingdom had always been something of a dreamer.
“He somehow managed to fall off their ship on the way to the Princess Tourney, and he swears he was rescued by some girl. Apparently she swam through the waves of the storm and dragged him back to the ship where they could throw him a line. Oh, and I nearly forgot that she was singing while she did it.”
“Singing?”
Gabe’s lips twitched. “I’m sure you can imagine what he has had to put up with from all of us. But he holds firm to his story.”
I shook my head. “It sounds ridiculous, of course. But then, I would have called our own morning’s experience ridiculous before I experienced it.”
My reference to the wolves sobered him immediately.
“Perhaps you’re right,” he said, quietly. “Maybe I’ll find myself apologizing to poor Teddy one day.”
Silence fell between us, and I gazed into the flames. Teddy must be more like a brother to Gabe than his actual brother, Percy. Gabe had been only nine when he went to Trione, Percy only six when he farewelled his brother. And in the end, he had stayed eight years, not returning until he was nearly a man grown and my own kingdom long-since cursed.
“Why did you go to Trione?” I looked back up at Gabe. “When you were a child, I mean. Why did your parents send you away?”
Gabe frowned into the shifting orange light. “They didn’t send me away exactly. At least, I don’t think they ever intended such a thing. But King Edward wished to strengthen his ties with our kingdom, and we were all much too young for a marriage alliance to be any more than a distant promise. So he invited my parents to send one of us boys to spend some time in his court as his ward instead.”
“Why did they send you?” I asked, emboldened by the night, and our strange isolation—the only two living creatures within the circle of our firelight—and by the unexpected sense of camaraderie that had gripped us. “I’m surprised they chose to send their heir.”
“I suspect King Edward expected them to send Percy,” he said, still not meeting my eyes. “But he reckoned without a mother’s heart. Percy was only six and very much a mother’s boy. He was only two when the twins were born, and he used to cling to her after that.” He paused and shook his head. “He would have hated being sent away, and I’m sure she couldn’t bear the thought of making him go.” His usual grin resurfaced. “Whereas I thought it sounded like an exciting adventure, so that no doubt eased her conscience. My father was likely convinced because it was only supposed to be for a year.”
“A year?” I was surprised enough to interrupt him. “But you were there for eight.”
He gave me an easy smile. “You’ve been to Trione—you remember what it’s like. Palinar has always been the mightiest of our kingdoms, but Trione has always shone the brightest. It’s an easy place to love, and a hard place to leave. And Teddy and Millie could keep pace with me when Percy and the twins could not. I begged to be allowed to stay, and my parents indulged me. And then one year rolled into another…” He shrugged.
“You must miss it,” I said softly.
“I do,” he replied after a thoughtful pause. “But I’ve been back for three years now, and I am learning to love my own kingdom as well. It’s a different sort of love—one that has more to do with roots and responsibilities than freedom and wings and the sun shining on the sea. But I think it will grow to be a deeper love.”
He laughed suddenly. “Listen to me. A bit of darkness and a few flames, and I’m turning into a philosopher.”
“No, I understand,” I said. “My mother always taught me that it is a ruler’s role to serve their people and their kingdom. In caring for them we find our own satisfaction and joy.”
/>
“She was always a kind woman,” Gabe said, his eyes fixed on me now, and a cold spear thrust into my heart, freezing the warmth of the moment.
I had let myself be lulled into forgetfulness, pulled into the past. I had allowed myself to become the person I used to be, and I had forgotten for an instant the tragedy that had destroyed that princess. I had no wish to be any kind of ruler now—my tasks at the haven were service enough for me.
“The swans will likely not be back until morning,” I said, the ice coming out in my voice. “We should sleep.”
Gabe frowned slightly, his eyes examining my face, but when he opened his mouth, I pointedly turned away, and he let it go, remaining silent. I lay down on my pallet and told myself firmly that I had nothing to feel guilty about. I had enough troubles today without his bringing up the troubles of my past.
We had woken, completed a cursory wash, and eaten a light breakfast before the swans touched back down in the lake. One, two, three, four, five, I counted them all, a small ball of pressure in the back of my mind easing at their safe return. I wished I could ask where they had spent the night, but I had no way to understand the answer to such a complicated question. Instead I welcomed them back and then limited my questions to the task at hand.
“Did you find any strange animals?” I bugled.
Shadow’s head dipped down and struck the water once. Gabe and I exchanged a brief look. Success.
“Wolves?” I asked, and she struck the water once again.
“Could you lead us to them, do you think? Were they in their den?”
She hesitated this time, and I reminded myself to keep my questions simple. I re-asked just the first one, and this time she gave a confident tap of the water.
Once again I expected Gabe to go rushing off, but he showed no inclination to do so. After gravely thanking Shadow, he suggested we make our way into Brylee.
“We’ll need more supplies before attempting our own scouting mission,” he said. “And it would be safest if we speak with Audrey, at least, first, and let her know our intentions.”
A Captive of Wing and Feather Page 11