Lost Girl

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Lost Girl Page 17

by Mary E. Twomey


  He chuckled, and the sound was deep and velvety. “You got it. What else?”

  I shrugged. “Nothing. I don’t need a single thing.” It was true, to an extent. I didn’t need a thing that he could give me. He couldn’t be with me. He couldn’t protect me. He couldn’t understand basic human needs. He couldn’t understand me, even when I was telling him exactly who I was and what I needed for survival. I wasn’t angry, but there was nothing Bastien could do for me, other than take me to Lane.

  “Anything, hun. Please.”

  I was firm in my rebuke. “You can’t help me because you have no idea who you are. You’ll never help anyone if you can’t figure that out. You’re lost, but I’m not going to be. I won’t be the lost girl. I know who I am.”

  We rode for too many long hours all stretched together into an unending abyss of loneliness. I tried to go through the rap song Judah and I worked out to teach me all the bones in a dog in order from head to toe, and rapped it to myself over and over with plenty of nineties flare and “yo-yo-yo” shoved into the downbeats for good measure. I couldn’t let myself go through any more Lost and Forgotten albums. Those lyrics knew me too well, and I didn’t want to break down.

  Cheval wanted to talk, so I paused my epic gangsta rap for him, letting him tell me about his time with his favorite passengers. After a few back and forths that the others listened in on my side of, a lightbulb dinged in my head. “Do you remember meeting that Kerdik guy?” I asked, switching the subject abruptly.

  Cheval’s answer came back wary. “Of course. No one could forget meeting him. He created us.”

  “Do you see him often?” I felt Bastien stiffen at my question, and I knew the others were listening in.

  “Not since he gave me the jewels to hide. It’s been twenty-one years, though I can’t say I miss him.”

  “Yikes. That doesn’t sound good. Is he a good guy, or not so much?”

  “He travels with prosperity, but leaves behind utter ruin. He doesn’t like people, so he mostly kept to the animals and nature when he used to visit Avalon.”

  “Huh. I think I’m supposed to meet up with him at some point. Lane wanted to surrender the jewels to him after we steal them back from Morgan. Said they’d caused more harm than good.”

  Aunt Avril perked up at this. “Oh, no. We’re not going through all this just to give the gems back to Master Kerdik. We’re taking them to our provinces, where they belong. Master Kerdik doesn’t care about Avalon anymore. If he did, he wouldn’t have let it fall to ruin. I wouldn’t have had to bury most of my sisters.” Her horse trotted up next to us, both she and her mount wincing at the sight of the scrapes on my face. “We have three of the gems back, plus the Lost Princess. That’s more hope than Master Kerdik has given Avalon in decades.”

  “I’m not really big into taking sides on things I know next to nothing about, so I’ll let you and Lane duke that one out. Fair warning, I always side with Lane, so you might want to work on persuading her, not me.” I managed a wan smile that Aunt Avril returned before she fell back to ride next to Madigan and the prisoner, Roland. They’d been doing that, keeping the rear so Bastien and I could speak privately. The thing is that I hadn’t had much to say all day, and Bastien was stuck on permanent apology mode whenever we did manage a meager back and forth.

  “That was well-handled,” both Bastien and Cheval said in unison. Then Bastien’s hand moved on my back. He’d been careful only to touch me as much as needed for traveling safely, so the gratuitous softness soothed me beyond what I was expecting. I snuggled into him, finally exhaling a bit of my unhappiness over the events of yesterday. Bastien matched my exhale, relieved I was finally letting go of the tight hold I had on my body. “That’s better. I’ve got you, honey.” He tucked my head under his chin and rubbed the tender inside of my wrist with his thumb. “You can lean on me.” His whisper was just for me, lest the others hear it and assume he’d thrown over his unconscious fiancée for the foreigner.

  “I promise you, I’m not a witch.” I wasn’t sure if that was a debate in Bastien’s head, but now that I finally felt comfortable talking to him a little, I needed that established before Roland could stuff his head with any other nonsense.

  Bastien’s chest rumbled with levity. “I know that. Once Roland gets to know you, he’ll see it, too. He’s a good guy. Worth spending a year up in Common to track you down so I could bring him home.”

  I stiffened in his arms again, shifting away from the comfort of his solid chest to sit up on my own. My ribs screamed at me, but my independence was worth the pain. “I like to make my own opinions about people. He could’ve killed me. I hope you get that. If I hadn’t been able to talk to Cheval, no way would I have survived a mile of that. I know he’s your BFF, and I get the whole bros over hos thing, but dude. I can’t walk right now because of Roland, who you think is this great guy.” I held up my hand when Bastien tried to say something stupid in Roland’s defense. “I’m not telling you how to feel about him; at least give me the same courtesy.”

  Bastien closed his mouth and swallowed hard before he nodded, pulling me back into his arms. “Here,” he whispered. “Right here is where you belong. I’ve got you, Daisy.”

  “Do not call me that. I’m not your Daisy.”

  As the sun passed overhead, we didn’t talk much. I conversed with the horses, but let Bastien and me fall into a non-aggressive silence. It had been a long day, and I was a little tired. The sun was starting to dip down, and the monotony of the gray rocks had given way to the golden wheat that climbed up to Cheval’s belly. Cheval led us to a stream that ran through part of the wheat field only the horses knew about, so we could refill our canteens and wash off. The dust of the road had coated us thoroughly, making me the most luscious kind of sexy imaginable. With my beat-up body, my scraped face, and covered in filthy clothes I’d worn too many days in a row, I knew I’d be prom queen in no time. I could move my ribs without wincing now, and my shoulder wasn’t so stiff. Bonus.

  Bastien was reluctant to hand me off, but his look of unquestioning trust in Madigan reassured me a little bit when I was placed in his arms. Madigan was tall and had a menace to his tattooed muscles that made me feel both wary and safe all at once. He carried me to the stream and sat me down beside it, kneeling to refill his canteen. His voice was quiet as the others fished through the packs for food and a change of clothes. “Ye seemed rather comfortable in Bastien’s arms,” he observed. It wasn’t a simple statement or a tease; it was a veiled threat.

  “Did you want to be the one in Bastien’s arms?” I quipped, unwilling to let him accuse me of something I’d have to explain. “How exactly did you want me to ride the horse, banged up like this?”

  Madigan eyed me, and then nodded, as if confirming something was there he’d been looking for. “Grand. You’re terrible at hiding stuff. Just wanted to know what your face looked like when ye were covering over a secret.”

  My mouth dropped open, and my voice fell to a whisper. “Nothing’s going on. Bastien’s engaged.”

  “Aye. I know that. I didn’t think ye did. He seems to have forgotten, too.” He did that knowing nod again, and I wanted to shove him into the creek. “And now I know what ye look like when a lie’s twisted your tongue. Remember tha. I never forget what a person’s lie looks like.”

  “You’re about to see what you look like after I push you in this creek. Stop trying to figure me out. It’s creepy.”

  “Aye. I’ve been called tha before.”

  “Shocking.”

  He jerked his chin over his shoulder toward the rest of the group. “Know this: the Brotherhood are family. We’d die for each other in a heart’s breath, and tha loyalty extends to our ladies. You’re not his, though, so don’t expect loyalty like tha from me.”

  My eyebrows pushed together, and I couldn’t believe I was letting him rile me up. “Are you trying to say something, dude? Take it up with Bastien.” I blew out a long gust of air. “He’s engaged. Noted. You�
�re a loose cannon who doesn’t give a crap about me unless Bastien’s my boyfriend. Got it. Thanks for giving me a day where Roland didn’t try to kill me. Totally cool of you. I get that I’m on my own from here on out.”

  Madigan frowned in confusion, which was actually a pretty amusing look on him. His left eyebrow wrinkled twice as much as the right one, adding an additional note of what-the-crap to his expression. “I didn’t say all tha.”

  “Yeah, you did. It’s cool. I know you don’t owe me protection. Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll watch my back around Roland.”

  “I’ll not leave ye to sit as bait. Tha’s not what I meant. I’ve been with the lad all day. His hatred for ye hasn’t calmed at all. I thought a day of walking would give him a wee bit of perspective, but he only seems more determined now.”

  Great. “Not your problem. You just told me as much. It’s fine, Madigan. Thanks for watching him today. I’m good as new.” I managed what I hoped was a confident smile when Aunt Avril came to join us with clean(ish) clothes for her and me.

  “The men will bathe first. You can come with me while we wait, dear.”

  “Thanks.” I struggled to climb to my feet, and put out my hand to stop Madigan from hoisting me up in his arms. “I got it. Go rinse off. Good talking to you,” I lied.

  “You’re being stubborn. I’ll not let ye walk on tha bum ankle. We both know it’s useless.”

  “Not your problem,” I repeated. I kept my chin up while I limped off toward the horses, taking Aunt Avril’s arm to use as my crutch. The pain in my tender ankle was rough, to be sure, but I reminded myself that it didn’t matter. This was the job, and I didn’t have any other options.

  “Mad!” Bastien barked. “I thought you were watching Rosie. She can’t walk on her leg.” He trotted to me and scooped me up in his arms, shooting Madigan a look of disappointment mingled with confusion.

  Madigan stood and threw up his hands. “I was just… Ah, forget it. Your old lady’s just as stubborn as ye are.”

  I stiffened. “I’m not his old lady.”

  Bastien frowned down at me like I’d told him he was fat, but didn’t correct me. He sat me down next to Cheval and tossed me half a smile that showed off his lickable dimples. “Don’t go sneaking peeks, now. Can’t sully the Lost Princess with too much lust.”

  “All I heard was ‘blah, blah, blah, I’m about to get naked.’ Come on, now. I paid for a good show. Nice and slow, just how I like it.” I snapped my fingers like I was a paying customer at a strip club.

  Bastien laughed as he slowly lifted the hem of his shirt just to tease me with the ripples in his abdomen. And what a tease they were. It would be so much easier to ignore Bastien and put him out of my mind if he didn’t look like an advertisement for masculine soap. I tried not thinking about him all lathered up, and failed miserably.

  “You made a joke. I think I needed to hear you do that.” He checked to make sure the others weren’t looking, and kissed his thumb to brush a little affection over my wounded cheek. His touch was soft, tender and bespoke of fondness that was slightly more stable than the explosive passion we were trying to avoid. “We’ll figure this out,” he whispered, promising me more than he could be certain of.

  I nodded, since being agreeable was simpler than arguing. There wasn’t anything to figure out. He was engaged. His BFF was plotting my violent demise. He had commitment issues up his perfect wazoo. The only thing to figure out was how broken I was willing to let my heart get before we inevitably crashed and burned. “Go clean yourself up. You’re starting to smell worse than Cheval.”

  He dimpled, but still tried to communicate with his eyes how much he meant what he’d said, no matter how much I was trying to blow it all off with a joke.

  Aunt Avril came to sit with me while Bastien untied Roland and took the gag off with a warning (that sounded more like pleading) not to stir up trouble. I got a chance to sit and eat with my aunt, hearing about the beauty of her kingdom before it all went to ruin when her opal was stolen.

  When it was our turn to bathe, I tried not to be weird about it. The locker rooms I changed and showered in didn’t have much more privacy than this, but the added difficulty of a busted ankle, the guy I like nearby (and didn’t want to see me naked all mangled as I was), and the guy who was waiting for a vulnerable moment to strike made me a little jumpy.

  Aunt Avril was positively crimson with the inappropriate nature of bathing so near men. She mentioned she was used to attendants helping her bathe, and had “managed okay” without them in the Forgotten Forest. “I didn’t run my house as Morgan does,” she said with a schoolmarm shudder I didn’t totally understand. She kept her opal in a small sack with her as she bathed, unwilling to be parted from it for a single minute. With how much drama had been caused over the Jewels of Good Fortune, I didn’t blame her for being zealous about protecting it.

  Bastien was kind and respectful, shooing Madigan away to go find game to hunt for us to eat, and tying Roland to one of the horses a fair distance away.

  I heard a rumbling amongst the ranks, but it wasn’t the men disagreeing. “Just run! He’s tied to your saddle. It’s your one chance, now that the big one is gone hunting. The Voix is all the way over there in the water. She won’t even know until you’re too far away to be scolded.”

  The angry grumble came back quiet, their tone thick with plotting. “I don’t want to leave her, but I think it’s worth it to be rid of him. He tried to kill my Voix; he deserves to die the same death he tried to give her. Maybe I can pretend there’s a snake that spooks me, so she’s not cross with me.” Madigan’s horse lowered his head. “I worry she’ll put me out of her graces. She’s too fair. Too sweet. Avalon will destroy her spirit, and that’s a jewel that can’t be replaced.”

  Aunt Avril was telling me about the trouble Damond used to get up to in her palace when he was younger, and Duke Henri was overwhelmed with the kingdom and being a single parent. I felt bad for holding up my hand abruptly to stop the girl talk. “Don’t you even think about it, guys! I can hear you, you know. It’s the drawback of me being able to listen to the things you mean to say. I can also hear the things you don’t mean for me to be in on.”

  The horses started apologizing, afraid, as Remy had been when he realized I couldn’t turn my gift off on a dime.

  “What’s going on?” Bastien asked, whipping his head to investigate my sudden outburst.

  “Bastien, untie Roland. The horses are planning on pretending a snake spooks them, so the one you tied Roland to will run off. They want to kill him the way he tried to kill me.”

  Bastien’s face pulled into a grimace, turning to look at the horses with an expression of stunned amusement. One by one, the horses lowered their heads in defeat and submission to my preference that they didn’t murder. Bastien undid the rope around the horse and held tight to Roland’s restraint to keep him in place. “Sneaky little devils,” Bastien teased, ruffling his hands through the guilty horse’s mane. He jerked Roland’s rope irritably and grumbled, “I hope you see that she just saved your neck. What kind of a witch would do that?”

  “The kind who can’t prove the horses actually said anything. The kind who wants to get in your good graces by saving your friend.”

  Wow. Didn’t see that one backfiring.

  27

  Hail and Leeches

  The trip through the wheat field felt never-ending, but the fact that I wasn’t covered in dust and dirt was a definite plus. I was stable enough not to have to ride sidesaddle anymore, which meant we could gallop through the wheat. By the time night fell, the stiffness on the side of my face had subsided, giving me eyefuls of how beautiful the world was without the usual light pollution I was used to in the city. I never got to see a whole sky of gorgeous stars, highlighted by the blue moon. The giant orb above shaded us in hues of navy and cerulean as we rode through the wheat. The horses were talking about a tonnerre coming, but as I didn’t know what that was, I remained a patient listener.


  Roland had been tied atop Aunt Avril’s horse so we could gallop and make better time. Bastien finally started asking to see if I was tired, and then listening to me, which was a welcome change. “Are you sure you don’t want to stop for the night now?” he said low in my ear. We were a little ahead of the other horses, which afforded us just enough privacy for a few mild flirtations. His lips brushed the shell of my ear, just to drive me crazy. “Your eyes are starting to glaze over, and you’re doing that yawning thing you do before you get snippy.”

  “I’m not snippy,” I bristled, and then caught myself. “Of course I’m tired.”

  “Talk to me. You’re tired, but you don’t want to stop?” When I didn’t reply, he shifted uncomfortably. “Are you hungry?”

  “Sure, but we all are. It’s best just to not think about food. You know I always want more.”

  “Greedy little witch.” He meant it as a tease, but my shoulders fell at the label that had caused me to get dragged through dirt. Bastien hissed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. It was a lousy joke.”

  “It’s fine.” I was about to make a pun to pass it all off, but Madigan sidled up next to us. My spine straightened, and I ghosted my hand over the front of my gray thermal shirt from Draper, as if I’d been naked and needed to cover the scandal.

  “I feel the wind shifting,” Madigan noted above the gallop of the horses. How he could feel changes in the breeze at this fast pace amazed me. The wind had been whipping at my face for so long, I barely felt it anymore. “If ye don’t have to sleep, we should ride as fast and as far as we can. I don’t fancy being stuck in the rain.”

  “The horses are saying that a tonnerre is coming,” I said.

  Bastien stiffened. “What are you talking about? There aren’t any black clouds.”

  Madigan turned around and gasped. “They’re starting to come in behind us. I checked not one minute ago, and the sky didn’t have a hint of black to it.” He shook his head. “I don’t think the duchess is up for the beating tha’s going to be coming from above.” He appraised my injuries with a careful eye. “This one might have been able to handle it if she wasn’t already one manky foot over death’s door.”

 

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