“I don’t know them like you do. Honestly, I’ve only met the ones who live in the villages. None from the forest. I heard they’re completely different.”
“I don’t think they would do this. No. I’m sure this was a solis.”
“They’re always the enemy to you.”
“Well, I doubt a fae would have done it.”
He fell silent.
I huffed, then wiped sweat from my forehead.
He sighed. “Let’s talk about something else.”
“Okay.” I thought for a moment. “Why do you always wear that crown anyway, with the exception of now?”
“It’s complicated.”
It wasn’t the answer I was expecting. “How so? I thought it was an accessory.”
“I mean, really, I suppose it is. For me anyway.”
Fae couldn’t lie, but I felt like he was skirting around a truth. A thought came to my mind, but it was laughable. “I mean, you’re not royalty or anything, right?”
“That would be funny, huh?”
“Considering how much grief you gave me for being a royal—”
“No. I didn’t care if you were royal. I didn’t like the tyrannical rule Magaelor was under.”
I winced. “My brother would have been a good ruler. I wished he’d survived. It was my father’s idea to have him go out onto the battlefield, you know. He always did what he said. I hated that. I think King Amos felt guilty about it, even up until he died…” I trailed off. Cedric looked uncomfortable. He stared ahead, emptily. I supposed bringing up the dead wasn’t the most uplifting topic. “Anyway, now I have the chance to make up for it all and honor my brother’s name.”
“Yes. Once we can find the elves.”
“Yes.” I paused. “I want to ask you something. I mean, I know about the light and dark fae, but how exactly does it all work. I’ve researched, of course, but considering you are the same race, what happens when a faery is born to the light fae and they are dark? Do you just send them to Niferum?”
“It’s not quite as straightforward as that, Winter. I think we all have our prejudices, but if I step back and am factual about it, the entire thing about there being light and dark fae is quite preposterous really. Dark fae are named that simply because they indulge in their pleasures and embrace their darkness. They don’t have many constraints. They enjoy making deals and, as you know, some can go really bad. Like the feral fae as you mentioned.”
I shuddered at the memory. “Yes, but some of the ones at Lepidus didn’t seem bad at all.”
“They’re probably not.” He shrugged. “In the end, both are simply just fae, only separated by our nature and a division between the older generations. The dark fae were labeled that when they split from Berovia centuries ago and since then it’s what has become the known thing.” He smiled. “Worry not, I’m sure that’ll change. Everything is like a circle in life, eventually things always end up coming back around.”
“I suppose it does. I wonder why they call themselves dark fae?”
“Some do, but I’m pretty sure it’s you sorcerers who use the term mostly. Although on occasion we use the terms too, mostly to differentiate us to them when talking about them so others understand who we are referring to.” His eyebrows raised. “It’s like how you call yourselves lunas and sorcerers here call themselves solises. There are no real difference asides from the magic you practice and the kingdom you live in. It’s a term simply to differentiate.”
“I’ve been called a luna so long it would be strange to not use it anymore.”
“Naturally.”
Darkness swallowed the leaves as night fell. The farther we walked, the deadlier the forest became. My eyes widened as blackness consumed us. Something moved above our heads, perhaps a monkey swinging between the trees or something more sinister. I ducked down and pulled Cedric to my left. “I can’t believe I fell asleep here on my own once. It’s far scarier than I remembered.”
He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me in closer. His fingers gripped into my side. I could barely make out the contours of his face as night stole the sun. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said with promise.
I jolted when something touched the back of my neck.
“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s just a twig.”
“There are black-spotted lizards. They’re deadly,” I cautioned. “They come out at night. I hadn’t thought this through. I suppose I could attack one with my staff, but I don’t know any killing spells I can muster to use in unison if there are more than one.”
“We won’t need to kill anything tonight. I’m sure of it.” He walked me toward a small clearing and dropped his bag on the ground. “We can’t go any further tonight, not in the dark. We’ll need to set up camp.”
He flickered his hands and sparks and embers danced downward, hovering just above the ground. A fire suspended midair. I watched, mesmerized. Fae magic was so beautiful. He clicked his fingers, distracting me, and the trees and branches around me melted away, replaced by an illusion of a log cabin. We were sitting on an ornate rug, and next to us was a sofa. It was probably a log or something, I knew what glamour was, but I appreciated it all the same.
“Thank you.”
“I do what I can.” He smiled and rummaged through his bag. He pulled out a tent. “We may be in an illusory ‘log cabin.’” He made quote marks with his fingers. “But technically, we’re far too out in the open. I’m going to set this up.”
I brought my knees to my chest, then rocked a little back and forth. “Why go through all this hassle to help me?”
His eyebrows shot up as he fumbled for tent poles. “Oh, I guess I just go wherever I feel destiny is pulling me.”
My cheeks balled up. “That’s a freeing way to live. I sometimes wish I could.”
“You can. Don’t let your duty destroy your happiness.”
I laughed. “I’m a monarch. We don’t get to be happy.”
He pressed his lips together. “It’s truly sad you believe that. I know, for a fact, it’s not true. You can put country above everything, but never your heart.”
“It’s a burden I’m honored to carry.”
“Right.” He waved his hand in the air. “I forgot. Your family was anointed by your ancestors.”
I didn’t appreciate his dismissive tone. “Yes, and it is a privilege to be chosen as queen. I am the highest public servant to the kingdom. My heart lies with them. It must, for someone has to step forward and take the responsibility as their own.”
“Then…” He pulled the poles together, and the tent popped up. “You’re perhaps much stronger than I first realized.”
“Was that a compliment?”
“You only get one.”
I yawned. “Thanks,” I said, breathing slower than before. My anxiety had dissipated, and I knew I had him to thank for distracting me. “Let’s get inside. I’m exhausted.”
He climbed in after me. It was hot, small, but covered. I gripped my staff in one hand, ready to attack any animals who would try to eat us, and tucked the other behind my head. We lay down, staring up at the blue stretched fabric. Buzzing, chirping, and hissing accompanied my slumber as I was dragged into dreams I feared I wouldn’t awaken from.
SIX
I woke covered in sweat. My clothes were stuck to me, and I was insatiably thirsty. I sat upright, then focused on Cedric. His mouth was partly open, and a light snore escaped. He grunted and shuffled onto his side. I turned my head and watched a centipede crawl up the side of the tent.
Pressing my fists to the ground, I pushed myself onto my knees and crossed my legs under each other, moving myself forward. When I moved the fabric doors back, I emerged into a tropical paradise. A chorus of singing, buzzing, and clicking erupted around me. I reached into the tent, grabbed my staff, and pulled my water cup from my bag.
I had walked several steps away from our camp when a frog with yellow markings on his back crossed my path.
I held my tin cup in the ai
r and summoned drops of water, which had collected on the leaves, into a stream. I directed it inside and brought it to my lips. I smacked my lips together. Flies buzzed around me. I attempted to swat them away with my hand, but there were too many. I scratched a mosquito bite on my arm and groaned. “I don’t miss this.”
“Morning, sunshine!” Cedric exclaimed as he climbed out of the tent. “We survived the night, it seems.”
“Yes, we did,” I grumbled and offered him the rest of my water. “You’re far too cheerful in the morning.”
He winked. “Best time of day I think. Also…” He pointed at his bag. “I brought some, so you finish your forest water. I’ll have some fresh water thanks.”
“Of course you did.” I rubbed my arm. I should have thought to look in the bag.
He ran his hand through his golden strands, tousling his waves, then rolled back his shoulders and stretched his arms. “I’ll pack up, but first, here.” He offered me a bag of nuts mixed with dried fruits. “Eat up. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”
I took the bag, and a grateful smile pinched my lips. “Let’s get moving. If I don’t get back to Hawk and his crew at the tavern, they’ll think I ran off.” I rolled my eyes. “He’s so paranoid.” I rubbed my hands together, then fumbled my fingers. “It’s upsetting that so few will have faith on the word of a queen.”
“Princess.” He smirked. “For now,” he said, making me feel a little better.
“Very soon I will be, and rightfully, I am.” I pushed my cup back into my bag.
“You seem nervous,” he stated, brushing his fingers against mine.
I inhaled sharply and looked through a gap in the trees ahead. My heart thumped, and my legs felt wobbly. “Perhaps this was a mistake.”
Cedric grabbed my hands and entwined his fingers between mine. “Whatever lies in the village, we will face it together.”
It was a hundred degrees, yet I was shaking. I gulped, attempting to remove the lump in my throat, to no avail. “Let’s move.”
We walked between the trees. The deeper we went, the thicker the canopy became. Sprays of yellow light illuminated the browns and greens around us. I moved vines hanging from low branches and kicked a pile of dead leaves out the way. Yellow hues covered us as we neared life.
White-and-pink wildflowers pickled the ground, and the tree trunks got thicker. A lizard sped from a rock into the underbrush when we passed through. “We’re here,” I said, seeing the beginnings of the meadow at the bottom of the mound. I stepped carefully. My heart raced as we got closer. The ground turned greener, with long blades of grass and tall flowers. The trees grew sparse, and we emerged onto the meadow.
Little clay houses with wide windows sat neatly, and clothing lines with colorful skirts and shawls hung from them. Baskets hung from low branches, and weapons sat in racks. Polished bows lay against one of the houses, and a quiver of arrows rested next to it. I scanned the elves, who were turning one by one from their drinks and food on wood tables to look at us. I sucked in a deep breath. I didn’t see Birch, Daisy, or Star. My face paled. They must’ve died in the attack. A part of me knew it already. Birch had once told me she’d do anything to protect her tribe, along with Star. Being back here returned the feeling of safety and warmth I had received when I found myself alone in a kingdom filled with my enemies.
My lips parted and my chin trembled. Seeing it made it real. The taste from the nuts I’d eaten earlier rose in my throat. There were some signs of the attack; cracks in the clay of the houses, a few broken weapons waiting to be fixed.
The elves were staring at me. I was frozen to the spot. Cedric tugged my arm, but I couldn’t move or string together a sentence. I peered harder, desperate for any sign of them, but there was nothing.
One of the elves approached us. She walked barefoot on the luscious grass. Her eyes were wide and chestnut brown. She was in her forties, I would have guessed, and she had her black hair tied at the back of her head, braided down and resting over one shoulder. She reached us and stood a few feet away. “I remember you,” she said slowly, looking me up and down. “Friend of Birch.”
My stomach dipped, and my breath hitched. “Uh…” I looked at Cedric, who nodded. “Where is Birch?” I whispered, afraid of the answer.
“She will be back soon.”
My chest caved forward, and I sighed. “She’s alive?” I croaked.
“Yes.”
“Daisy too?”
“Yes.”
“The attack,” I said, not fully understanding.
The woman’s eyes hazed. “They came in the night, sorcerers like you, who use ancestral magic. They attacked, but we fought back. Many of us were gravely injured.”
The corners of my eyes creased, and my eyebrows furrowed. “No one died?”
She shook her head. “Star almost died, but we used our powers of healing to bring him back from death’s grasp.”
I closed my eyes. It made sense. They had strong healing powers; all those who practiced natural magic did. Also, if they came in the night then the elves had an advantage with their ability to see better than sorcerers in the darkness. I opened them again, and tears pooled into the corners. I pressed my lips together and white-knuckled my staff. “I’m sorry so many of you were hurt, but I am so relieved to know none of you died.”
A huge weight in my chest lifted. I had been given another chance. Destiny changed the course, and I learned my lesson. Never again would I allow this to happen. Cedric wrapped his arm around my waist.
“She’ll need a minute,” he said to the elf. “What’s your name?”
“Ala.”
“Ala. Thank you.”
She smiled brightly at him, then left us alone. Once she was out of earshot, I collapsed against Cedric. He held me up. I rested my head against his chest, rubbing my cheek on his shoulder. Tears flowed down my cheeks. I sniffed as my nose blocked. I gripped his sleeves, sobbing into him. “They’re alive,” I cried. “I wanted to die whenever I thought about what I’d done.”
I expected him to counter, telling me how they still were attacked and hurt and could have died, but instead he rubbed my back, then dipped his head and kissed my forehead. “It’s okay now.”
His words melted the pain in my chest. “I’ve been spared such pain,” I whispered.
His eyes trailed up to the sky. A hint of a smile played on his lips. “I believe you learned the lesson you were meant to.”
I put several inches of distance between us and caught his gaze when he looked back down. “What is it you believe in?”
“Oneness,” he answered readily. “Most of us fae−those of us who reside in Berovia anyway−believe we are all connected, our souls that is. I don’t fully understand it. I don’t think we can fully comprehend what’s beyond this world, but we can speculate. All I know is I feel something is with me.” He touched his chest. “I feel it in here. Call it intuition or faith, but it gives me strength, and that’s all that matters.”
I nodded slowly. “I think I understand.”
His eyebrows tangled, followed by a scoff. “I’m shocked. If I’d told you this when we first met, I’m sure you would have berated me on how what I believe is wrong or something like that. You weren’t the easiest to talk to.”
“Yet you really liked me regardless of it.” It was meant as a joke, like he always did with me, but he didn’t smirk or grin like usual. Instead, he flushed pink and looked over my shoulder.
“Is that your friend?” He pointed at the space behind me. “Someone’s approaching.”
I whipped my head around, then let out all my heartache into a cry. “Birch.”
Her black hair had grown longer, reaching down to the bottom of her thighs. Her green eyes latched onto mine, her stare harder this time. Her lips set into a hard line. “Winter.” Her tone was clipped. “Why have you come here?”
I rubbed the side of my arm and cast my eyes down to the grass. “I—”
“Look at me,” she c
ommanded. “If you have come to apologize, you can look in my eyes and explain why you betrayed us.”
I bit down on my bottom lip and shifted from one foot to the other. Words of apology swam in my mind, but none of them felt right.
Cedric placed his hand on my back. “She’s nervous,” he explained, addressing Birch with an understanding, soft expression. “She has carried around immense guilt for what she did. It changed her. She didn’t know her father would attack you. She thought she was protecting Magaelor.” He glanced at me. “However misguided.”
Birch stared at him for several seconds, then flitted her eyes toward me. I could see the confliction in her expression. The corner of her lip twitched, and she held her breath. “You had no right still.”
“I know.” My heart hurt. “But how did you know?”
“Who else could have given them our location?”
I gulped. “Yes, of course…” I paused, trying to find the words to express how sorry I was. “I don’t know what to say.”
She took a minute, then exhaled deeply. “I forgive you, Winter. Your friend is right. We all must learn.”
I sighed relief. “Thank you. I truly am so sorry. I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”
She stepped backward. “However, I cannot trust you again. My people could have died. My family. My friends. I will not risk their lives again. I forgive you, and you may leave here knowing this, but I do not permit you to stay.”
I swallowed hard. A lump formed in my throat. “I understand.” I pinned my arms against my stomach. “If there’s ever anything I can do to make it right, I will.”
She looked around at the trees and up at the bright sky. “If you leave now, you may make it out of here by sunset.”
Cedric squeezed my arm, steadying me. His voice was softer than normal. “Thank you for seeing us.”
Birch turned away and joined the rest of her tribe. I looked at them, my heart panging as I remembered my last visit here. They’d shown me so much kindness. I felt safe with them in a place filled with enemies.
Cedric whispered in my ear. “Don’t dwell on it. What is done is done. Let’s leave.”
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