Nathaera flinched as though he’d slapped her across the cheek. Bristling, she clutched her reins tighter. “Listen here. We’ve not come all this way to turn back because it’s a little dangerous. Gwyn’s all alone, and we intend to go on searching for him. You’ve no right to tell us not to!”
“No right? Yet these are my woods. Mine and my people’s. You are trespassing.”
Nathaera stared as a chill charged up her spine. “You’re of the Ilidreth?”
Lawen glanced at her. “You didn’t know?”
She shook her head. “I hadn’t thought…”
The figure leapt from the trees and landed lightly before the two on horseback. “That is just the trouble with Simaeri. You rarely think.” Celin’s blue eyes caught and held hers. “You refuse to turn back?”
“As we said,” Lawen answered, “we know already that it’s foolhardy. But we can’t sit back and do nothing.”
Celin sighed, reaching up to finger his brow. “Am I to be plagued with all the kin of ren Terare? Very well. I shall guide you as best I can. Where Gwynter of Vinwen is, I cannot guess, but Aluem’s tracks may be traceable if one knows how to look. We shall try that and discover in time if it is fruitful.”
“Thank you,” Lawen said. “But why trouble yourself?”
Celin gazed at him a moment before he answered. “Your brother survived Shaeswéath and found what he sought. He lived to speak of it afterward. You are alive because of his deeds. These truths puzzle me, but they speak most of Gwynter’s soul. He may be something different. Something great. I wish to see what that may mean, for good or for ill.”
“You’ll be well compensated for your aid,” said Lawen with a grateful smile.
“I do not desire the wealth or favor of a Simaeri. Threaten to reward me again and I shall leave you instantly in the first pit I find.” Celin turned his back on the travelers. “Follow. We will head east.”
“That’s the way we were planning to go,” Nathaera said, to be clear.
Celin glanced back at her with a stony face. “Keep up.”
Nathaera blinked and glanced at Lawen. He shrugged. She replied in kind, and they nudged their horses onward.
Chapter 18
“Kive, I don’t have the shiny rock.”
The fallen Ilidreth stared at him, uncomprehending.
Gwyn sighed. “I gave the shiny rock to Nathaera. I need you to go find her. Tell her that I — that Shiny — is with the enemy. With, with bad rats. Can you tell her that?” He glanced around to be certain none of the sentries were near enough to listen. He and Kive sat before a campfire in the center of the Ilidreth-Fraeli camp. Gwyn’s hands and feet were bound, his shoes had been removed along with his weapons, and a noose had been slipped around his neck to discourage trying anything drastic.
Kive shook his head. “I must stay with Shiny.”
“But what about Shiny Rock?”
“I must stay with Shiny.”
Gwyn groaned, shutting his eyes. “Very well. We’ll just have to pray to Afallon that he provides an opportunity to escape.” Did Ilidreth pray to Afallon? He didn’t know. Another coughing fit seized him, and he doubled over. The noose dug into his neck, but he ignored it until he gained control of his lungs again and gasped for air.
“Shiny?”
“I’m…all right, Kive. Just…fine.”
“Shall I eat the rats, Shiny?”
“Don’t eat large rats, Kive. Please.”
“But Master said so. I must obey.”
“Do you like eating large rats better than small rats?”
“Juicy,” answered Kive.
“What about a nice chicken or some berries?”
Kive grimaced. “Kive must eat rats, or birds, or flies.”
“Because master said so?”
“Master said so.”
“I see.” Gwyn’s eyes strayed to the strange tents erected by the Ilidreth. Woven from leaves and branches, the tents blended so well with the woods, a stranger might wander into the midst of camp without recognizing that it was just that, until it was too late to run. The sentries were also difficult to spot, though Gwyn knew one hid near enough to spear him if he tried to escape. He sighed and turned back to Kive who fingered a stray twig. Gwyn studied his features, struck by the angular shape of his face, the otherworldly beauty usually hidden in Kive’s madness. He bore a strong resemblance to the other two Ilidreth Gwyn had encountered.
“Kive, do you remember before you fell? Did you know Lady Shalesta?” Stories of the Ilidreth always implied they were long-lived. Maybe even centuries old. Could Kive have been there when Swan Castle stood as the thriving center of trade with humans from Fraelin and Simaerin alike? When King Roth took to wife the beautiful Fraeli princess Shalesta?
The Ilidreth lowered his head, glossy hair slipping over his eyes. He plucked a bud from the twig.
“Did you know someone named Celin, perhaps?”
“Kive is Kive,” whispered the Ilidreth in sorrowful tones. “Not shiny anymore. Not shiny. Just Kive. Just Kive…”
“Do you want to be shiny again?” asked Gwyn gently.
“Never again. Just Kive.” He snapped the twig in two. Gwyn stared at the broken fragments until Kive lifted his red eyes. “Shiny? Oh. Hello, Shiny. Nice Shiny.” Kive crawled around the campfire and knelt before Gwyn. He began to stroke his hair. “Nice Shiiinyy.” His cooing tones hung faint and singsong. As he chanted on, Gwyn’s eyelids grew heavy.
He caught Kive’s wrist. “Please, Kive. I’m trying to think, not to sleep.”
“Does Shiny miss Shiny?”
Gwyn’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“Does Shiny miss Shiny. You know. Shiny. The other one. Clip-clop, like a horse. But Shiny isn’t a horse.”
“Oh, you mean Aluem? You mean the unicorn.”
“Uniiicorn? Ah, yes. Unicorn. Shiny Unicorn. Does Shiny miss Shiny Unicorn?”
“Yes, Kive.”
“Shall Kive find Shiny Unicorn?”
The tension bled from Gwyn’s muscles until his head felt light. “Yes. Yes, Kive. Can you find Shiny Unicorn? Can you bring him here?”
“Yes, Shiny. Of course Kive can find Shiny Unicorn.”
“Find him, Kive. Bring him to wherever I am when you do. Don’t bring him here but bring him to me. To Shiny.”
Kive nodded dreamily. “Kive will bring Shiny Unicorn to Shiny. Uniiicorn. I forgot that word. Uniiicorn. Shiiinyy.” He smiled. “Nice Shiiinyy.”
“Go, Kive. Hurry. Please.”
Kive rose and slipped away. If the sentries noticed him, they did nothing to prevent his departure. Gwyn couldn’t blame them. Kive was Kive, after all.
Two days passed without any sign of fallen fae or unicorn. Fortunately, Lord Bowrin remained content to keep Gwyn whole, even in Kive’s absence; perhaps because he suspected Kive wasn’t far away.
The army maintained a rapid pace. Despite Gwyn’s weakened condition, he refused to mention his fatigue. He stared at his feet, hands kept bound as he walked between two Ilidreth guards, thoughts muddled but willpower as stubborn as any ren Terare who had come before him.
Towards evening of the second day since Kive’s departure, he stumbled, eyes too weary to keep open. A hand reached out and caught him. His personal guard. The Ilidreth helped him to regain his feet.
“Steady, Simaeri. Not much farther and we shall stop again.”
Gwyn nodded and kept walking, footsteps pounding in his head. The last few hours of the march stretched on for an age as his mind struggled to think of anything to keep him upright and conscious. Lawen. It always came back to Lawen. Had Nathaera made it in time? Had the sky gem worked?
His heart ached for home. For knowledge. For warmth and food and safety. For family.
Lawen.
A call came down the line. Shouts cut across the air. Gwyn’s stomach fluttered as air caught in his chest. Had Kive succeeded? Had he brought Aluem? Stretching to his full height, Gwyn peered over the heads be
fore him.
A flash of orange light lit the air. Fire exploded near the front of the line.
“A mage!”
“It’s a mage! Run!”
“Hold your positions! To arms!”
Pandemonium rippled into defense as hundreds of arrows unleashed upon the flames. The arrows slowed. Halted. Spun and shot back at the soldiers, as though the wind controlled them. Ilidreth dodged and slammed into each other.
Someone shoved Gwyn against a tree and cut the bonds on his wrists.
A voice whispered in his ear, “Climb, Simaeri. Stay there. If I see you run, I will shoot.”
Gwyn seized the first branch he could reach and pulled himself up into the tree. He climbed until he reached a limb far above the swarming soldiers and turned his attention to the burning forest. There, in the center of the Ilidreth forces, blazing with flames that seemed not to consume him, stood a figure cloaked in black, hand stretched forth. Fire licked his gloved fingers but didn’t devour the cloth.
As Gwyn looked on, the figure turned its cloaked head in his direction. Hungry, smoldering eyes pinned him in place. Frost clutched his heart. His soul lay exposed.
Another torrent of arrows filled the air, but the mage waved his hand, repeating the same reversal attack. The forces broke apart, retreating, reforming. Another volley filled the air. Another effortless deflection.
The figure shook his head. He flicked his hand upward. The flames leapt into a raging fire, swallowing the cloaked figure. In the next instant the fire died. The trees stood untouched. The figure was gone.
The back of Gwyn’s neck prickled.
“I found you,” whispered a wintry voice in his ear.
Gwyn shoved off the branch where he sat and tried to drop to the forest floor — but a hand snatched his wrist.
“Not so quickly, little mage. You’ve been summoned.”
Gwyn dangled from the branch, wrist throbbing. He lifted his eyes and met the gaze above him: black eyes glittered beneath the hood. A grin stretched across the man’s shadowed face. He murmured a phrase Gwyn didn’t understand, and the air around him tingled.
A rush of wind filled Gwyn’s mind.
‘Gwynter, resist!’
“Aluem!” He released the branch with his free hand and slammed his fist into the cloaked man’s restraining arm. The man hissed as his grip slackened. Gwyn wrenched free, letting go of the tree to tumble toward the ground. Aluem leapt up and caught him on its back. Together, unicorn and boy landed on the ground. Aluem pawed the earth and turned. Gwyn looked up as the mage vanished from the tree.
‘Are you well, Gwynter?’ asked Aluem, turning his neck until his eye could meet Gwyn’s.
“I am now. But we can’t stay here.”
‘Of course not.’ Aluem galloped away from the army as voices cried. Gwyn didn’t look back, but he heard the whistling arrows as one shot past his shoulder, tearing his sleeve but drawing no blood.
He buried his face in Aluem’s silken mane. “I’m so glad to see you. Did you reach Vinwen? Are Nathaera and Windsur well? And Lawen, what news of him?”
Aluem laughed in his head. ‘All are well, young Gwynter. All of them are very well. Lawen lives.’
Tears scorched his eyes as he laughed aloud. “I’m so glad.”
Chapter 19
A crow’s shriek jarred Nathaera from a bad dream. As she rolled over and stared into coals of the campfire, the memories of her dream slithered away, but the heaviness in her chest lingered. Dawn had come, slipping slender fingers of light between the branches of the trees overhead. The air hung crisp and sharp.
The crow called again. Nathaera sat up and spotted it hopping along the branch of a nearby birch tree. It eyed her and cocked its head one way, then the other.
The thud of approaching hooves tore her gaze from the bird, and she leapt to her feet as Aluem appeared at the edge of camp. Draped along his back, sound asleep against his neck, lay Gwyn.
Nathaera gasped and danced around the fire to kneel beside Lawen. “Wake up, wake up.” She shook his shoulder hard. “He’s here. Aluem found him. He’s here!”
Lawen moaned and blinked a few times. “What’s wrong?”
“Get up. Gwyn’s here. Aluem brought him. Look!”
Lawen lethargically rolled over and lifted his head to follow her finger. His eyes widened and he surged to his feet. “A unicorn!”
Nathaera climbed to her feet beside him. “You see him? I mean, you really see a unicorn? Not just a plain old horse?”
Lawen shook his head. “I’ve never seen a horse like that before. It’s beautiful!” He blinked. “Gwynny!” He sprang forward.
Gwyn barely moved as Lawen reached him. The elder brother grasped Gwyn by his arm and shoulder and, straining, lifted him from Aluem’s back. Gwyn groaned and opened his eyes as Lawen half-dragged him to the fire.
“Gwynter, are you wounded? Tell me how you fare.” Lawen guided his brother to his bedroll and helped him to sit down. He wrapped a blanket around Gwyn’s shoulders.
“Lawen?” Gwyn’s voice was a sleepy murmur. He raised his head and gazed into Lawen’s face, blinking. “Lawen!” His arms shot up and he caught his brother in a bear hug. “You’re well! You’re truly well! Aluem said so, but I had to see — to know!”
Lawen laughed. The brothers embraced for a long, quiet moment, though Nathaera thought she heard Gwyn sobbing into Lawen’s shoulder. Finally, they pulled apart. Lawen ruffled Gwyn’s hair.
“You’ve been through a fair bit, trying to save me. What a bold and reckless fellow you are, Gwynter.”
Gwyn grinned. “It was worth every step.”
Celin’s voice came from a tree. “Now that you have found him, through no effort of your own, you should hurry back to Vinwen. The woods are more unsafe than normal.”
“Celin?” Gwyn’s brow furrowed.
“Your acquaintance agreed to help us find you,” Lawen explained. “But it seems your unicorn was enough, just as Master Celin said.”
Aluem’s tail flicked. Nathaera turned to the unicorn as he approached her, and she lifted her hand to rub his head. “Thank you, Aluem.”
‘The woods are crawling with Fraeli and their Ilidreth allies, along with other, rather foul creatures. We must leave, as Celin’Laen says. Gwynter is most at risk.’
Nathaera turned back to the brothers. “Aluem says we need to leave immediately.”
Lawen nodded. “I should say so. Gwyn, let’s get you home.” He took his brother’s arm and hauled him to his feet. “Between all our mounts, we should make good time.”
Aluem sighed. ‘I suppose he believes that is so. I shall try not to gallop too swiftly for the sake of your beasts.’
Nathaera laughed.
Celin accompanied the Simaeri travelers until they reached the woods’ southwestern border two days later. There he bade them to stop and turned his gaze to Gwyn. “You didn’t kill Kive as I asked.”
Gwyn shook his head. “I couldn’t. I’m sorry. I will pay another price to preserve my honor, if you will but name it.”
“It does not surprise me that your hand was stayed in a fit of mercy, but he cannot stay in these woods. His power will taint the land further. He must go with you. Let this be your price.”
Gwyn glanced toward the trees. “I’m afraid I lost him while I was a captive of the Ilidreth.”
“But he has not lost you.” Celin pointed to a shadow among the tree trunks. “I suspect he desires to remain with you as well.”
Nathaera groaned. “Yes, to eat us! He thinks we’re rats.”
“He doesn’t think I am anymore,” Gwyn said. “He calls me Shiny now.”
Celin nodded. “Then it is fate. Call for him. If I find him in my homeland again, I will slay him and then I shall come after you. This is a promise, Gwynter ren Terare. Keep Kive away from these borders.”
“Vinwen isn’t very far away, you know,” Nathaera said. “Won’t that be a problem?”
“It is not my concern how or wh
ere Gwynter chooses to keep Kive, so long as he does not return here.” Celin turned his blue gaze back to Gwyn. “One last thing: hide your mark.”
Gwyn started. “My mark?”
Celin took Gwyn’s hand, turned it palm-up, and pushed his sleeve back to reveal the rune signifying death emblazoned on Gwyn’s wrist. The symbol came from the Old Tongue in the age of the Kings of Wintervale. Gwyn stared at it as a chill soared up his frame and settled against his mind, dizzying and cold.
“You have encountered one of the Crow King’s mages,” said Celin. “Should he or another of his order find you again, you are marked for execution.”
“But why?” demanded Nathaera. “He’s done nothing!”
Celin shot her a piercing look. “Has he not? Do you call the use of magic nothing in Simaerin, despite your king’s edict?”
The girl bit her lip and lowered her eyes. “But he only wanted to save his brother.”
Lawen steered his horse nearer to Gwyn. “What is done can’t be undone. We’ll just have to hide this mark and keep our secret well. We must go.” He inclined his head. “Thank you, Master Celin, for all you’ve done.” He turned the horse toward Vinwen. “Come, Gwynter, Lady Nathaera. No doubt the residents of Vinwen are very anxious by now.”
Gwyn glanced toward the trees. “Come, Kive! Follow me.”
The Ilidreth emerged from the shadows of the foliage and gracefully loped across the open ground until he reached Gwyn’s side. The fae man gingerly reached out and brushed his fingertips against Aluem’s coat. “Shiny. Shiny Unicorn. Shiny.” He smiled up at Gwyn with such guileless adoration, Gwyn couldn’t help but smile back.
“Come along, Kive. We’re going to my home.” He looked up and found Lawen eyeing him.
“An Ilidreth will be difficult to hide.”
Gwyn shrugged. “We’ll have to find a way.”
Lawen nodded and shook his reins. “We ride for Vinwen! Ha!”
The Complete Duology Page 11