by Lexi Ryan
“Then you know I have no choice.”
“I imagine you’ve done many things because you had no choice,” she says softly. She toys with a dark curl and seems to consider this before adding, “I need to ask you something.”
“Okay.”
She looks down the alley in each direction, and even though we’re the only ones out here, she lowers her voice when she speaks. “That money you gave me for Fawn’s contract . . . did you steal it from Gorst?”
My stomach plummets. How would she know that? “Do I look that stupid?”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Brie.”
I rub the back of my neck, where all my tension from the last twenty-four hours seems to have coiled into one big knot. “Wouldn’t it be better if you didn’t know where I got it?” I can’t believe that was only last night. So much has happened since then—my whole world tipped on its axis.
She purses her lips. “Someone broke into Gorst’s house, got past his wards, and raided his vault. He’s pissed.”
“I imagine so.”
“Whoever it was left blood behind,” she whispers. “And it’s only a matter of time until his mage finds the match—finds the thief.”
Shit. I’ve been so busy dealing with everything else that I’d forgotten about the blood. “Gorst is the least of my worries.”
“Yeah? Well, you’d better hope the magic works slowly, or you may never get the chance to enter that portal.”
“Brie?” Sebastian calls, coming down the alley from the courtyard.
“We’ll talk later,” Nik says, giving me a sad smile and squeezing my wrist before backing away. “I’ll see you at home. Until then, watch your back.”
“Thanks, Nik.” With a deep breath, I turn to face Sebastian. My heart squeezes at the sight of him. He’s wearing a white tunic with dark leather pants that are fitted to his powerful thighs, and his white hair glows faintly golden in the sunlight.
“Master Trifen said you were looking for me.”
I swallow the knot of emotion in my throat. I want to tell him my plan and warn him that we may never see each other again. I hate deceiving him, but I don’t see a better alternative. “I wanted to see you before you go.”
Sebastian steps closer and takes my hands in each of his, squeezing. “I wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye.”
“I know.” I scan his face, memorizing every inch. His eyes are more blue than green in the setting sun. I may never see those eyes again.
He reaches into his pocket and draws out a necklace with a crystal pendant. “I made you something.”
“Bash . . .” The chain is a simple, finely woven silver, but the crystal is flawless. “It’s . . . the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Then it suits you.” His voice is hoarse, and the heartbreaking tenderness in his eyes grates against my conscience. “It’s an amulet of protection. If I can’t be here to protect you myself, then . . .” He flinches, as if the thought causes him physical pain, then gently guides the necklace over my head. “Promise me you’ll always wear it.”
“I promise.” It falls between my breasts and glitters in the sunlight. I clutch it in my fist. “When do you leave?”
“First thing in the morning.” His gaze goes to the sky, as if checking to make sure he hasn’t run out of time.
“Thank you for being such a good friend. I don’t know if I would’ve made it through the last two years without you.”
“Don’t do that.” He shakes his head. “Don’t act like you won’t see me again.”
I drop my gaze to my feet, staring at my battered black boots instead of letting him look into my eyes, where I fear the truth is written.
He tilts my face up to his. “There’s so much I still need to tell you.”
“Like what?”
He scans my face again and again. “About my past . . . about me.”
I open my mouth and snap it shut again. Sebastian’s never talked about his family. He never wanted to share anything about his life before he moved to Fairscape, and I never pushed.
“I’ll do everything in my power to see you again,” he says softly. “But I’m not ready to leave you yet.” His hands are big and warm. I’ve secretly imagined him touching me like this so many times, but nothing I dreamed up could compare with the sensation of his callused fingers sliding behind my neck and into my hair as his gaze drops to my mouth. “Is there anything you need to tell me? Anything I should know before I leave tomorrow?”
Does he mean about my feelings for him? Or does he suspect that I’ll be headed to a different realm at midnight, risking everything on the unlikely chance that I can save my sister? “Sebastian, you’re my best fr—”
Before I can finish the word, he lowers his head. Soft lips find mine, and I gasp against him. Electricity buzzes through me, waking me up, zapping between us, making this kiss feel like it could light all of Fairscape, all of Elora.
When his tongue sweeps across my lips and then inside my mouth, I kiss him back with everything I have. Everything I am. I can feel his worry in his kiss, and I wonder if he can feel my fear. I have to save my sister, but I don’t want to die. I don’t want to lose him either.
My emotions are a muddled mess, somehow heightened by his kiss. When he pulls away, I’m lightheaded, the rug pulled out from under me. I’ve been falling for Sebastian for two years, and all this time I believed my feelings were unrequited. And now, when I may never see him again, I learn that they’re not. Fate is toying with me.
“Wait for me,” he whispers.
I won’t. I can’t. And I feel a stab of guilt at how good his words feel anyway. I can’t let my feelings for Sebastian blur my focus. All that matters is getting to Jas.
* * *
“Brie.” A whisper in my ear as the mare runs faster and faster, carrying Mom and me toward the beach. “Brie, they’re coming.”
My heart races, and my hair flies in wild wisps around my face. Mom’s wedding band bites into my little finger as she grips the reins.
“Brie.” The breeze turns hot, and smoke fills the air, stinging my throat. “Abriella, wake up!”
My eyes burn as I crawl across the floor on my hands and knees. The acrid smoke snakes its way into my lungs, and fire dances all around me. Heat licks my skin. Flames dart out and sear my bare legs. Jasalyn smiles up at me, blinking through the smoke. I sweep her off the bed, but she’s too heavy for my skinny arms to hold, and I fall back under her weight. I grip her tighter, and she disintegrates into a pile of ash.
“Brie!” Someone shakes me hard.
I force my eyes open. Force air into my lungs.
The room is dark and cool. There’s no fire, save for a single flame flickering atop a candle on the bedside table. Nik crouches beside me on the floor, still in the skintight dress she wore to meet her client.
“What is it?” Sleep threatens to drag me under again, thanks to the tonic Nik gave me after dinner.
“Gorst is here for you.”
I press my hand to my mouth and spring to my feet. Fawn is curled on her side in the bed, her stuffed rabbit clutched to her chest. My stomach cramps at the thought of Gorst tearing this little girl’s home apart because of me.
The booming knock on the door seems to shake the whole apartment, and I spin to Nik with wide eyes. “Stall for me. I’ll sneak out the window.”
She nods, one step ahead of me. “I put one of my dresses in your bag.” She looks toward the door when the knock sounds again. “It’s nothing as fine as what your sister could make, but it’ll help you blend in with all the girls going to the ball.”
“Thank you.” I hug her tightly. “I owe you.”
“If you don’t open this door, we’ll knock it down!” a deep voice calls.
“I’m coming!” Nik shouts. Her voice doesn’t betray any of the fear on her face. Then, to me, “The portals should open in less than an hour. Be safe and come back to us, you hear? Fawn needs her aunt Brie.”
My
eyes burn, so I just nod and sling my bag over my shoulder.
Nik stomps toward the door. The fear sloughs off her with each step, replaced with bravado. “Who do you think you are, pounding on my door in the middle of the night?”
I close the bedroom door as quietly as possible, then pull the pillows and blankets from my mat and place them neatly on the bed.
“We’ve been told that Abriella Kincaid is staying here,” the deep voice says.
“Well, you’ve been told wrong. It’s just me and my daughter.”
After kicking the mat under the bed, I blow out the candle. The blanket of darkness is a reassuring balm to my senses.
“If you don’t mind, ma’am, we’d like to see for ourselves.”
Nik huffs. “I do mind. My daughter is sleeping.”
I pull myself out the window and shut it behind me just as light pours into the bedroom from the main part of her unit. I run down the alley, then cut across to another, zigzagging in a path they’d never suspect. The night is bright under the full moon, and I avoid the main streets, sticking to the darker, narrower paths between buildings to remain unseen, pressing myself against walls and between trash barrels when need be. I run and run and run, sweating, lungs burning. I don’t stop until I’m safely ensconced in the woods at the edge of town.
There’s already a line of young women tittering excitedly in the flood of moonlight at the river’s edge. Some are dressed in elaborate ball gowns, others in simple cotton frocks that are likely the nicest thing they own. They’re all waiting for the portal to open, staring at the riverbank as if it’s their own personal path to salvation. Fools.
Avoiding the crowds and the moonlight, I head to the dense grove of trees beyond. Blindly, I strip off my clothes, peeling my shirt and pants from my sweat-drenched limbs before searching the satchel for the dress Nik packed. The fabric is thin and silky, and when I pull it over my head, it slides like cool water over my skin.
I clutch the crystal at my neck. I don’t know how well amulets of protection work, but I escaped Gorst’s men tonight. If this necklace can get me to Faerie safely, I may never take it off.
I huddle against a tree, hidden by the darkness, and watch the moon climb higher in the sky until, finally, gasps and delighted laughter drift toward me.
“It’s opened.”
“The portal has opened!”
“The golden queen welcomes us!”
“Prince Ronan awaits!”
I tuck my amulet into my dress and slowly emerge from the shadows, stepping into the line of women. We wait our turn to walk through the portal. I clutch my hands to resist the urge to smooth my hair and wipe the sweat off my brow. If I keep my head down, maybe they won’t notice that I’m not dressed as finely as they are.
I’m not like these women. I’ve never wanted to be a faerie princess, never dreamed of the day I could dance with the immortals at one of their legendary balls. But tonight I recognize my luck. Once I’m on the other side of the portal, Gorst’s men can’t touch me.
With that thought, I lift my head to see the woman in front of me step off the bank and into the sheer five-foot drop to the river—only to vanish into thin air.
“Go on now,” the woman behind me says. “It’s your turn. Don’t hold up the line.”
“I just . . . jump?” I ask.
She laughs. “No, silly. If you jump, you’ll fall right into the river. You have to walk to the portal above the water. You must believe it’s there, or it won’t work.”
I gape at the rushing river beyond the bank. Fear climbs on my back and weighs me down.
“Go on,” she says. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
“I fall into the water, get pulled under, and have the rapids beat my body against the rocks until I drown?”
She laughs as if I just said something hilarious. “Go on now.”
“Right. Just believe.” So simple.
“Have any of you ladies seen a redheaded young woman with a scar on her wrist?” someone asks farther down the line. “She’s a thief, and we have a cash reward for the first person who helps us find her.”
The woman behind me drops her gaze to my wrist.
I press my palm to my amulet, and I don’t just walk over the riverbank. I run.
Chapter Five
MY BACK TEETH CLANG TOGETHER as I slam onto my knees. Pain radiates up my legs, and when I open my eyes, a clear moonlit sky shines above me. I scramble to my feet and turn back to the river, but it’s gone. The forest beyond is also gone. The only trees are far in the distance. All around me, streams of women appear out of thin air, arriving from portals all over Elora.
This is it. This is Faerie. I made it.
An undeniable energy buzzes along my skin. As if the air is different here, as if it’s charged—an electric spiderweb waiting to trap humans like flies.
I scan the faces around me, looking for any sign of the woman who looked eager to turn me in for the reward. I can’t find her in the crowd—not that she could do much on this side of the portal. Instead, I see young women rushing happily toward a golden footbridge that leads to a mammoth castle. Golden spires line the horizon, poking up into the night sky. The stone walls shimmer in the starlight. Mother described it just like this in our bedtime stories—castle walls of crushed quartz, floors of marble, the night sky an endless blanket of shimmering stars.
When we were younger, Jas and I used to dream of this place. It was like a game. We’d imagine running away to Faerie through the solstice portal and finding Mother. We’d describe how excited she’d be to see us and list the countless reasons that had kept her from returning. As the years passed and Mother never visited, when she never returned to free us from our contract, the game held less and less appeal for me. I didn’t want to think of my mother, or the reasons she’d failed us. I didn’t want to talk about her anymore, and imagining a reunion made my stomach hurt.
But now that I’m here, I can’t help but wonder if she is too, if she survived this dangerous land all these years, if she’s . . . happy.
I’m at least a hundred yards from the footbridge and castle gates, but even this far back, swarms of women line up eagerly. I expected the crowd to be overwhelming, but I never could have imagined this. Women push past one another to take their place in line. Their desperation makes me equal parts sad and on my guard.
“Oh, girl,” the woman behind me says. “You won’t get in like that.”
I stiffen as I turn to her. “What do you mean I won’t get in?”
She frowns, looking me over, then pulls a handkerchief from her purse. I don’t know how I look, but she is radiant—a canary yellow dress with a fitted bodice and full skirt, her dark hair falling in perfect bouncing curls over her shoulders.
I look down at myself for the first time since Nik woke me. The silk dress she gave me is a bright red that nearly matches my hair. It sags at my chest and clings to the sharp angles of my hips before flaring out above my knees. The thin fabric exposes every underfed angle of my body, from my jutting hipbones to my sunken stomach. On Nik, its simplicity is probably sultry and seductive. On me, it looks a bit pathetic and ragged. Normally I don’t have time to worry about things as superficial as appearance, but next to this glowing woman I feel self-conscious.
“Don’t worry. I’ll help,” she says, offering the handkerchief to me. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
My arms are streaked and smudged with dirt. When I pressed into the shadows in the alley, I was thinking of hiding, of surviving, not of cleanliness. “Thank you.” I accept the soft fabric and gently wipe the dirt from my skin. “I guess I was in such a rush to get here, I didn’t even realize.” Beneath the filth, pink scratches—from running through the brush in the woods—crisscross up and down my arms. I’m not exactly a picture of beauty. “What do you mean they won’t let me in? Don’t they let everyone in?”
She digs into her purse again and pulls out a small bottle of ointment. “Even as massive as the q
ueen’s castle is, it isn’t large enough to hold all the women who will show up for a chance at the prince’s hand.” She takes the handkerchief back and squeezes a bit of the opaque ointment onto it. She dabs it on a particularly ugly abrasion on my shoulder, and I watch the skin heal and return to a healthy ivory hue.
“I’m so sorry, but I can’t pay you for this.”
With a smile, she continues the application down my arm. “I won’t need your money once I’m Prince Ronan’s bride.” She winks at me like it’s a joke and only I am privy to the punch line. “My name’s Pretha.”
I swallow, still not sure what I did to deserve this kindness. “Abriella.”
“That’s a beautiful name.” She moves to my other arm.
“Thanks.” I scan the long line ahead of us. “How do they decide who gets in?”
“The majority of women will be sent home before they ever set foot in the castle. The guards at the door make the first cut on appearance alone.” She must see the disgust on my face, because she says, “I know. Shallow, right? But they’re looking for a healthy, beautiful human bride for their prince.”
The line moves slowly, and though I’m itching to get inside the castle and start searching, I’m grateful for the extra time. I never considered that I might not get past the doors.
“There.” She finishes the last scrape on my wrist. “And now . . . may I work on your face?” She pulls out a small mirror and turns it so I can see myself.
My face is no better than my arms were, but worse than the dirt and scrapes are the circles under my eyes and the hollows of my cheeks. Healthy isn’t the word that comes to mind when I look at my reflection.
Pretha dabs at my face with a clean cloth, then draws cosmetics from the endless depths of her purse. She lines my eyes with kohl, coats my lashes, brightens my cheeks with rouge, and paints my lips a deep red. When I look into the mirror again, my only familiar feature is my curly red hair. “You’re quite an artist,” I say, dabbing at my skin where the bags beneath my eyes used to be. “Are you sure you didn’t use magic on me?”
She laughs. “There’s nothing wrong with a little magic to enhance your natural beauty.”