Lost Girl

by Mary E. Twomey

  Mad craned his head to look at Bastien, breaking the embrace and taking a step back. Bastien was quite tall, but Mad had two inches on him. Mad wasn’t quite on par with Andre the Giant, but nobody’s perfect. “Are ye off your nut? There’s no goin’ back from the Forgotten Forest. But at least we have each other now. Tha means no one’s looking after Link, though.” He jerked his head toward the village. “I don’t like them over there. Ye can stay here with me.”

  Bastien shook his head, a glowing look of gratitude on his face at being reunited with his old friend. “Let’s go inside so we can talk.” Bastien started toward the hut, but Mad motioned him to the other side of the hill. “Tha’s not my house. It’s the decoy, in case anyone comes hunting for me.”

  My mouth gaped that dude had built an entire hut just to throw people off their game. Bastien shook his head in amusement. “Some things never change.”

  24

  Convincing the Formidable

  Mad led us to a clearing and motioned for us to sit on the leaves. Dude had a whole hut, but lived out in the open in case… bears? Ninjas? I’m not sure who he was afraid might come to look for him.

  I dismounted like a pro and stood a healthy distance from the others, so as not to spook Roland. I banded my arms around my stomach, my shoulders hunched inward to close myself off from the things I didn’t understand.

  Aunt Avril came to stand at my side and coiled her arm around my shoulders. I willed myself not to crumble in her arms and sob like a baby at the loving contact. It was gentle, and didn’t have a hint of I’ll-kill-you-in-your-sleep to it. I really needed to get ahold of myself. I didn’t want to fall to pieces. Not until I had Lane with me. Then she could make popcorn while we watched overly cheesy romance movies and tried to pick out which of the lead guys would make the stealthiest serial killer (Greg Kinnear, in case you were wondering).

  We formed a loose circle while Bastien filled Mad in on everything we’d just broken down for Roland and Aunt Avril. However, this rendition had Roland chiming in every few sentences with, “See? Not suspicious at all, right?” and “What else would you expect from Morgan le Fae’s daughter?”

  Aunt Avril and Roland went back and forth a few times, but Bastien stuck to the facts, not veering from the truth or using emotion to persuade Mad. He used short sentences, and spoke using only logic to his friend. I kept my mouth shut and my eyes on my shoes throughout the entire ordeal. I didn’t need to defend myself. I knew who I was.

  “Honestly, I’m in a little over my head with this,” Bastien admitted. “Morgan’s entire army is looking for her, looking for me, and trying to pin stuff on people who are close to me. So yeah, I could use some help taking the Jewels of Good Fortune to the provinces and figuring out how to steal Morgan’s jewels. I don’t have much of a plan, and the odds aren’t all that great. Staying here is probably the safest option for you.”

  Mad tilted his head at Bastien, as if safety wasn’t a feature he’d ever cared all that much about. “Ye trust her? Morgan le Fae’s daughter?” Mad’s eyes zeroed in on me, and I tried to keep my chin down and not fidget.

  Roland answered for Bastien. “If you think you can trust anything that comes out of Morgan, you’re off your four-leaf clover. She’s already proven she’s a witch, controlling animals and trying to weasel her way closer to Duchess Avril.”

  “For the last time, Roland. It’s her birth blessing,” Aunt Avril said with a heavy sigh. “I trust her, Sir Madigan the Formidable.”

  “You’re a duchess who couldn’t hold onto your kingdom,” Madigan ruled in a low growl. Then his eyes cut to Roland. “And I didn’t ask your opinion, rich boy. I asked Bastien. What say ye?”

  Bastien puffed out his chest and nodded once. “I trust her. I trust her enough to bring her here unbound, and I trust her to get us out of here. Coming to the Forgotten Forest at all means I trust her with my life.”

  Madigan took three long strides and cleared the distance between us. My heart started racing when he drew his long dagger from his belt. I narrowed my eyes at him when he took the hilt and pushed it under my chin, lifting my face so he could stare into my eyes with his blue ones.

  Madigan up close was overwhelming. He had tattoos and scars on his arms and coming out of shirt to spill onto his neck. He had light brown hair that was neatly combed, parted on the side. That was the strange thing about him. Bastien’s messy hair made sense, but this guy was clean cut, while covered in tattoos. He looked capable of ripping my head clean of my shoulders, but he had the controlled hair of an accountant.

  Madigan’s eyes bored into mine in while he searched for… something. He tilted my head to the left and the right, examining me while Bastien held his breath. Finally, he nodded, seeing whatever it is he’d been looking for. “Aye. If ye trust her, I’ll go. If she steps out of line, I can handle her easy enough. Morgan’s had her fun. Time the Brotherhood stepped in.”

  Bastien exhaled and let out a grateful laugh. “Music to my ears, Mad. You need to pack anything?”

  Madigan looked around curiously, as if Bastien had suggested he scoop up a few leaves to put in his pocket for the journey. “Lead the way, brother. I’m ready.”

  25

  Ruthless Roland

  As it turns out, there were actually several legendary horses who were meant to take people from their gloom and deposit them here. They each had a black coat, with a white lightning bolt across their flanks. Nobody knew there were more than one because to see them was such a rarity.

  We waited at the far edge of the woods away from the stretch of apartments until two additional mystical horses joined Cheval. Roland and Aunt Avril took one horse, Bastien and I on ours, and Madigan on his own. Honestly, dude was so burly, I couldn’t imagine him being able to share a horse with any of us. Though, Bastien was no small kitten, either.

  The sun had already set, and the gray of the rocks were lit only by the blue moon that steadily rose overhead. The pounding of the hooves cancelled out the ability to eavesdrop, so Bastien was able to lean in over my shoulder and speak low in my ear. “You alright, honey?”

  “Uh-huh.” I didn’t have it in me to balk that anything about this was okay. “Please don’t call me that, though. That’s not my name, and I’m not your honey.” I didn’t speak antagonistically, but rather with a gentle push so we could respect the boundaries we both kept forgetting about. The fact that he was asking how I was holding up was nice, I guess. It was the most he’d spoken to me in hours.

  “Good. I don’t think they’ll want to stop until the horses beg for a break.”

  I let out a quiet whimper I tried to keep to myself, but the misery broke it loose from my lips. My eyelids had been drooping before he started the conversation.

  “It’s okay. Just tough it out for the next day or two.”

  I hung my head, weighted and already beyond the point of emotional and physical exhaustion. “You don’t know anything about me,” I admitted to myself and to him. It wasn’t a nasty accusation, just a fact. “My first kiss was with a guy who knows nothing about me.” Lane would never assume I could go for two days without sleeping, but then, she knew me. Bastien and I had only been around each other for a month or two. He was making assumptions about my abilities and limitations that were completely false. “Bastien, I’m barely upright as it is. I’ll be lucky to make it another half an hour.” I shook my head. “I push myself hard enough, but you’re pushing too hard. I have limits that are pretty non-negotiable. It has nothing to do with being tough; it’s biology. I get that I’m the tool in all of this, but if you don’t care to learn how the tool works, you’ll break it.”

  Bastien exhaled in defeat. “Fine. Yeah, alright. If you can’t make it a couple more days, then let’s go until the last possible minute right before you drop. Then we’ll stop for a break.”

  I closed my eyes so no tears of exhaustion would well and risk spilling out. I didn’t want him seeing me break down. I couldn’t weep in front of Roland. I couldn’
t let Madigan see I was a freak who, you know, slept.

  I went through my list of all the periodic elements, trying to picture where they all were on the chart Judah and I had made in high school. He’d invented a rap for us, so we could remember them more easily. When I finished with that, I went through Lost and Forgotten’s entire second album in my head, matching the beat to the pounding of the horses’ hooves.

  Cheval entertained me with errant memories about different people he’d taken back to the Forgotten Forest. The other two horses chimed in with their favorite passengers, giving me three strains of conversation to latch onto. I felt slightly loopy as my consciousness wove in and out of too many conversations. I wanted to hear it all, but the more they spoke, it was like a slow leak to my sanity.

  I didn’t even realize I was swaying, my body starting to sleep and then jostling awake when it realized I was upright on a horse. “I can’t!” I whispered, on the verge of a breakdown. My heart was working too hard, making me feel cold and stretched thin on the inside. “Bastien, I can’t make it any farther! I’m sorry.”

  Bastien hung his head like I’d let him down, and whistled for the others to come to a stop. I could tell Bastien hadn’t wanted to explain my affliction to the others, but at this point, it couldn’t be helped. He dismounted, as did the others, while he explained the sleeping tax that had to be paid for the use of my birth blessing.

  I tried to dismount while they were digging into packs for food, and managed to swing one leg over the saddle. My dexterity was, you know, not so much, and I ended up getting my foot caught in the stirrup while the other was on the ground.

  Roland was the only one on this side of my horse, so only he was witness to my clumsy predicament. I struggled to untangle my leg, but just when I was almost there, Roland reared back and slapped the hindquarters of Cheval, making him rear back and start off at a hard gallop.

  I screamed as my shoulders hit the ground, my leg still caught in the stirrup. My head skipped over sharp gray rocks, my arms banging and stinging with shallow and deep slices. I tasted blood in my mouth as I cried for Cheval to stop.

  Cheval didn’t make it far before he slowed and then came to an abrupt halt, turning over his shoulder in horror, thinking I’d been a pack that had gotten stuck on his saddle or something. He tried to get to me, but I was still stuck, so he ended up dragging me in a circle until he realized he couldn’t nuzzle me without causing me further injury.

  Bastien and Madigan were on me in the next second. Madigan untangled my foot, and gentle as he was when he lowered it to the ground, I let out a tortured scream at the slight movement. I knew that feeling well. My ankle was sprained, for sure. I could only hope it wasn’t broken.

  Bastien’s hands were trembling as they ghosted over my face that was wet with blood. He swore in a steady stream of disjointed noise before coherent words came to him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Rosie. Do you think anything’s broken?”

  My ankle? My brain? My heart? My will? I wanted to answer him, but the world was getting fuzzy. There was a dark halo around Bastien, and then the ring slowly closed until there was nothing at all.

  26

  In Bastien’s Arms

  I awoke to a violent shiver rocking my body. When my eyes opened, I was surprised to find it was daylight out, and we were still in the land of gray rocks. The three black flanks encircled me, with one at my back, propping me up on my side while I’d slept. I tried to stretch, but that was a bad idea. I was sore from head to foot – especially my head, and especially my foot.

  My slight movements alerted the horses that I was awake, and they started all talking at once, Cheval’s voice the most insistent with too many apologies. “It’s okay,” I muttered. “I’m alright. Just a few bumps.” I carefully sat up, and then leaned forward, wincing at the sting on the right side of my ribs. It was worth it to give Cheval a little kiss on his spine. He craned his neck to stretch over my lap in a gesture of total submission, woeful in his sorrow at his part in it all. Animals could be a little dramatic sometimes, but I didn’t mind the sweetness. I needed someone to be nice to me. “Not your fault,” I told him.

  Bastien was trying to get to me, but the horses had me closed inside the fort of their bodies. “Rosie, would you tell them to move? I need to check your injuries. Are you alright?”

  “They don’t trust you,” I said flat out. I didn’t want to hurt Bastien, but the message was clear from my trio of equine watchmen.

  Bastien’s jaw clenched. “Be that as it may, I still need to check you.”

  I nodded, which was a mistake. The right side of my face felt stiff and puffy, and when I ran my fingers over my cheek, I could feel divots and scrapes that I prayed wouldn’t leave permanent marks. The horse to my left stood finally to make room for Bastien and Aunt Avril to come check on me. My aunt’s fingers were gentle as they fluttered over my hair that was somehow damp. She looked unsure of where or how she should touch me. “Honey, tell me where it hurts.”

  “It doesn’t,” I lied. My shoulder felt funny, and my right eye wasn’t opening all the way. “We should get going. That’s all I needed, just a nap.” I turned my head, and my neck cracked horribly. I felt about a hundred years old, but I knew complaining about it wouldn’t make anything better.

  “Rosie, I know you’re in pain,” Bastien said mournfully.

  I did my best to compose myself, brushing my hand down my damp shirt. I guessed they’d washed off my hair and clothes with canteen water. “Do you have anything to help with the pain?”

  “No,” Bastien admitted. “I’m so sorry.”

  “If you don’t have anything for the pain, then it doesn’t help anyone for me to be in pain, so therefore, I’m not in pain.”

  “It doesn’t work like that, and you know it. Tell me what I can do. You look awful.”

  “You can keep a better eye on Roland, and you can stop looking at me if it’s such a chore.” I kept my voice composed, trying to preserve a little of my dignity. “I don’t care what I look like. I don’t care if I’m the ugly girl until the day I die. I’m riding a horse through no man’s land. I’m not exactly gunning for a beauty pageant.” Okay, maybe that was a little grouchy. It was one of my pet peeves when people commented on how I looked. Growing up with a hump, a lazy eye and acne had given me a keen understanding that the people who cared what you looked like weren’t the ones you needed looking your way to begin with. It was super irksome when I was on the soccer field. No one said of my male teammates, “Number 24, Bobby Johnson, scored a point for his team, but his hair’s a little messy.”

  “You’re right. I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant you look like you’ve been dragged by a horse.”

  Cheval whinnied mournfully and apologized again. “It’s all fine. I lived. Is there anything I can eat on the road? We should get going.”

  Bastien was eager to please. “I saved you an apple.” He pulled it out of the pack and sliced off a chunk for me. I managed a few chews that weren’t too painful, grateful none of my teeth had been knocked loose.

  Madigan started saddling the horses, catching my eye silently with a grim nod of, “Sorry you got dragged by a horse. Our bad.”

  Aunt Avril and Bastien helped me to stand, and only then did I see Roland. He was sporting a black eye, a gag and rope securing his wrists. Madigan jerked him forward and tied the rope to his horse’s saddle, keeping Roland on the outer edge of our group so he couldn’t look at me. I tried to take a step toward Cheval, but my ankle was being a baby. I bit off a noise of distress, stopping my almost progress.

  Madigan came over to us while Aunt Avril fretted over my hair, fixing it back into its bun. Madigan stooped down to check my ankle. I was just grateful I couldn’t see the scope of the damage done to my face. I could pretend I just rolled my ankle going for a goal or something, and that was the only thing wrong in my entire life. Madigan looked up at me with a frown, still holding my ankle. “Just grand. This is tender, then?”

&
nbsp; “It’ll be fine. But maybe not this morning, though.”

  The corner of Madigan’s mouth twitched upward the slightest inch. It wasn’t a smile, but it was something other than his firm don’t-look-me-in-the-eyes expression. “You’re a tough little princess, aye? Bastien, get up on your horse, and I’ll hand her to ye.”

  “I’m not a…” I started to correct him. “Oh, never mind. Sorry you have to help me. I know you’re on the fence about trusting me. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I can probably figure out how to get up without the help.”

  Madigan quirked his thick, light brown eyebrow at me curiously. “You’re apologizing to me? I’ll let ye know when ye can do tha. This one’s on us. I’ll watch Duke Roland from now on. Don’t ye worry about him another second.”

  I lowered my head. “Okay.” Before I could brace myself, Madigan scooped me up like a bride in his arms, deftly lifting me higher and handing me to Bastien. He instructed me to ride sidesaddle for now, since we would be going slower for a while. None of the horses would permit Roland on their backs, so he had to walk.

  I was practically positioned on Bastien’s lap, my head on his shoulder and my legs drawn to rest over his left thigh. His arm coiled around my back, so I didn’t have to use my sore ribs to keep myself upright. Bastien waited until Madigan mounted his horse and Aunt Avril was climbing up on hers before his lips grazed my forehead. “I’m so sorry, Rosie.”

  “Yup. Let’s just go. Lane’s probably worried.” Cheval listened to me and started the slow trot. My ribs jarred painfully, but I bit my lip through the worst of it until my body got the hang of the ride and learned to stop tensing.

  “Tell me how to make this right,” Bastien pleaded, his arms around me.

  “Don’t let me fall off the horse.”