The Heart Between Kingdoms

by Mary Dublin

  "What does this mean?" another man asked.

  "It means," Seamus said, "Anglian will be very interested to know that the crown has been operating with fairies."

  Brennan's glare faltered, then intensified.

  "It could mean a change of plans for the princeling," Seamus went on. "After all, we may have just discovered that the crown of Mirrel has been manipulating its people with fae magic." With little warning Brennan's head forcefully ducked from the sheer gravity of Seamus dragging him to eye level. Malice glittered in those dark eyes. "Am I right?"

  In an instant, Brennan's mind was emptied of all urges to calm down. Because he was being held infuriatingly tight again. Because Anglian was involved. Because if Seamus was speaking so openly about this revelation, Brennan's future wasn't looking very bright to begin with. He spat at Seamus.

  "Somehow, you're even stupider than I thought," Brennan declared.

  The disgruntled look on Seamus' face was intimidating, but it was the hushed murmurs exchanged behind him that chilled his blood.

  "I'd be a little friendlier, if I was your size," one of the other masked men declared menacingly. "Or we might feed you to the horses."

  Out of the corner of his eye, Brennan glimpsed the speaker pulling off his mask. Matted blonde hair and a thin face were revealed as the cloth unraveled. His eyes were green and cruel. Brennan was almost certain he'd seen him standing guard for Lord Anglian.

  "John, what're you doing?" Seamus muttered.

  "The prince can't see from here," the other replied. "And I'm not worried about this little bite."

  A gloved fingertip made to smack his cheek. Brennan ducked his head, jerking in Seamus' sweaty restraints. It caused his wings to sting at the roots, but it was nearly worth it when the blonde thug recoiled as though he might get bitten.

  The others laughed at his flicker of fear. John tossed the black cloth to the floor indignantly, a scowl darkening his face.

  "The wee man's got some fight in him," he muttered under his breath. "Someone ought to fix that."

  Brennan was almost grateful when Seamus clasped him closer to his armored front. "None of that. We need it alive for Anglian."

  His fate was interrupted by the sound of hoofbeats approaching outside the cavern. Seamus smushed Brennan into a fist again, seizing a torch with the other hand. Night had fallen, and there was little light to illuminate the newcomers. Brennan could smell the dogs they'd brought with them even before Seamus had reached the exit, and knew who had come calling.

  The silhouettes of the riders looked positively monstrous aboard their steeds, as if each of them were a conjoined creature. The illusion was shattered as the men began to dismount, but it didn't make them significantly less intimidating, seeing as it took only one of their hands to restrain Brennan.

  He sighed heavily and braced himself, aware that even more curious eyes would soon be upon him, and his chances of escape would dwindle even further.

  Relishing the night air while he could, Brennan threw a glare at the torch Seamus carried, wishing he wouldn't keep it so close. The warmth of the flames radiated harshly enough that the chilly breeze was all but useless. His gaze wandered the outdoor darkness longingly. Freedom beckoned so desperately that it hurt.

  "Back so soon?" Seamus called in his booming voice. Brennan flinched and gritted his teeth, unable to pull his hands from his sides to cover his ears. "You're sure that you weren't followed?"

  One of the men laughed triumphantly. "The high and mighty knights? They're still chasing their tails as we speak, I imagine." His voice was familiar. Brennan recalled him shouting orders to the dogs.

  "Imagining is not the same as being sure, Gerard," Seamus growled.

  The man approached while the others hitched their horses. "We threw them off," Gerard dismissed. "Lord Anglian should be along soon enough to make his grand rescue."

  Brennan's eyes widened, processing what he'd heard. Anglian hoped to gain favor with the prince by rescuing him from would-be bandits. Brennan would have laughed if he'd had the breath to.

  "No trouble with the princeling?" Gerard questioned.

  Dogs milled around him, tails wagging innocently, as if they hadn't been viciously sinking their teeth into the legs of terrified horses and dragging riders off their mounts. One of the beasts broke away from its kin and paced closer to Seamus. Brennan's mouth went dry. He didn't care for the way the dog's eyes seemed to lock onto him.

  The crackling of the torch grew louder and hotter as Seamus yanked Brennan higher. Brennan winced away from the heat, though his gaze remained locked on the canine that determinedly trotted closer, its nose wiggling as it sniffed the air.

  "Call off your hound," Seamus barked.

  "He won't do nothing," Gerard said distractedly, narrowing his eyes at Seamus' hand as he came into the firelight beside the dog. "What's that you've got?"

  Seamus didn't get the opportunity to answer. Without warning, the dog leapt up at him. The heat of the torch became unbearable as Seamus flinched his hand even higher, but an idea struck Brennan in that instant, his ears ringing from the giant man's shout of anger.

  I'm not asking for much, Brennan thought pleadingly, tapping into his magic. He twisted around as far as he could to the torchlight, only able to hope that he had enough energy reserved. He called on the air, gasping sharply as if it was being taken from his very lungs. His vision became spotty, but the magic obeyed.

  A stiff gust pinpointed itself through the fire of the torch, throwing sparks and flames inward, dancing straight into the side of Seamus' face.

  The shout of anger quickly morphed into a roar of agony, but Brennan had no time to worry about the explosive noise in his ears. He was falling. His wings opened, and he wanted to scream too as they hummed stiffly, sending waves of pain through his shoulders and back. He wanted nothing more than to descend to the ground and put a stop to it, but the dog filled his line of sight, snapping up at him with its massive jaws. It was enough to spur Brennan higher, and he swiftly realized he was lucky for that.

  Perhaps it was human instinct to make a grab for smaller things, but Gerard's hands flew at him, fingertips falling just short of his legs.

  Brennan didn't dare give any of them another opportunity, climbing higher into the air when the other new arrivals came rushing over to see what the commotion was. He flew over their heads, too frantic to register his relief as he made a distraught beeline for the trees.

  He gathered his bearings quickly as he could, rising high above the canopies of leaves. The aches and pains throbbing along his wings and body were momentarily forgotten when he spotted a cluster of majestic shapes just barely visible on the horizon.

  He'd never been so happy to see Daniel's castle in his life.

  Chin in her hand, Esmae scanned over the tray of fine cutlery for the dozenth time. With Sir Logan shadowing her every step of the way, she had managed to finish planning the Verral Dinner—everything except the cutlery for dessert, as Madame Cassandra was so quick to remind her.

  While her hefty knight stood guard outside her bedroom, Esmae found company in other ways.

  "I didn't know they had so many different kinds," she muttered.

  She sat on her bed with the cutlery samples spread before her, with one of her father's young palace maids sat on a pincushion on the nightstand. She was tall for a fairy her age, with fair skin and lovely raven hair. She had been one of the first to find Esmae after her final confrontation with the witch, and she had waited on Esmae a fair few times in Evrosea before her elopement with Daniel. It was still a comfort to see a familiar face from the old days, even if they were much smaller than they were in her memories.

  Plucking up two forks at random, Esmae held them up for her to see. "Which would you choose?"

  The fairy maid gnawed on her lip. "I don't know, Princess. The amber-edged, perhaps?"

  Esmae regarded it critically. "It will have to do. I still don't see why it matters so much that I choose it."

/>   Setting the fork down next to the others, Esmae slumped back against the wall of silk and feather pillows. The little maid looked on with sympathy.

  "Humans put priorities on such strange things sometimes," she offered with a chuckle.

  "You're certainly right about that, Nadine." Esmae rubbed the bridge of her nose. "If only turning into a human came with comprehension of such things, I might have been finished hours ago."

  "Come, now. I think you're doing a fine job. From what I've seen, other humans aren't fond about how particular Madame Cassandra is, either." Nadine gave the cutlery a weary look. "Are you off to inform her of your choice?"

  Esmae smiled slyly. "Oh, it wouldn't hurt to wait a bit. I'm sure she expects that I put at least a few hours of thought into deciding what the Verrals will be cutting their pies with."

  She shared a quiet laugh with Nadine, mindful to keep her voice down with Logan just outside the door. Normal humans likely didn't giggle to themselves while sitting alone in a room, pondering forks and knives.

  All the same, her smile wilted when she took a peek at the dark sky through the window.

  "Does something trouble you, Princess?" Nadine asked.

  It was only natural to answer truthfully. "I'm worried. Daniel and Brennan should have returned by now. The sun's already gone down."

  "Perhaps the negotiations went on longer than expected," Nadine said comfortingly. "It isn't so late into the night yet. I'm sure they'll be along soon."

  Esmae gave an absent nod, threading her fingers together and adding, "I also worry about how Brennan's faring. He was unsure about taking the journey when I decided to stay here. I convinced him to go this morning. To make sure that Daniel wasn't alone."

  "Alone? Doesn't the prince have his knights with him?" Nadine paused for a beat, her pale cheeks turning pink. "I don't mean to question you, Princess."

  "No, it's alright," Esmae assured. "I understand. The knights care deeply for Daniel, I know that. But it also their duty. On journeys such as these, they are his obedient followers and protectors first and foremost. Since I couldn't accompany him, I wanted to be sure he at least had a friend with him. The state that his father is in, and all of these responsibilities that are suddenly his… I just didn't want him to be alone."

  The frown on Nadine's face became a soft smile.

  "What is it?" Esmae prompted.

  Nadine shrugged. "Nothing. I just believe that Prince Daniel made a wise choice taking you as his bride."

  "Shh," Esmae hushed, stifling a chuckle.

  "I mean it—oh?" Nadine's grin faded as her eyes locked somewhere behind Esmae. The fairy stood up from the pin cushion just as the sound of wings entered Esmae's hearing.

  She whirled to look at the window, relief bursting through her at the sight of the familiar form coming into the light of the bedroom.

  "Brennan," she sighed. It was in the next moment that she realized something was horribly wrong. His flight was crooked, but urgent. The closer he came, the more beaten he appeared. The blood drained from Esmae's face, and before she could stop herself, she exclaimed, "Brennan!"

  Throwing herself forward, she thrust her hands beneath his quickly descending form to catch him. Cutlery clattered to the floor. She didn't get a chance to look him over before Logan's voice boomed from the hall.

  "My lady!"

  Esmae was swift to straighten herself on the bed, cupping Brennan gently to her stomach to conceal him. Nadine gave a squeal of fear as the door wrenched open suddenly, but Esmae tried to remain calm even as the tiny, frantic heartbeats with her in the room seemed to echo within the walls of her own chest.

  Logan's fingers were locked around the grip of his sword when he burst into the room and looked around. From the corner of her eye, Esmae saw the nervous flicker of Nadine's wings as the fairy remained otherwise perfectly still behind a thick candle on the nightstand. Brennan was squirming weakly in her grasp, but he froze when Logan spoke up again.

  "What is it?" the knight questioned, his concerned gaze rife with intensity. "You screamed."

  "I-I, it was just—just…" Esmae's eyes traveled the floorboards, despising the sensation of a lie forming at her lips. "A mouse! I s-saw a mouse, that's all, and it startled me. My apologies for frightening you, sir. Everything's alright."

  Logan's armored shoulders relaxed. But to her dismay, he wandered deeper into the chamber, studying the floors now. "A mouse? This high up? Must've been a beast."

  "Y-yes, it was big as my knee—I mean, my ankle. It was over there somewhere."

  Sir Logan twisted around, looking at her incredulously. Her lie had been too much. She was terribly out of practice with fibbing, and it showed. Esmae kept her gaze lowered as she got to her feet, hands still carefully knitted over her stomach. The knight trudged over, towering over her inadvertently.

  "Are you feeling alright?" he pried.

  "Yes," she said, her back up against the bedpost. "I just need some rest."

  "I'll send for a nursemaid. They know better than an old knight like me what could trouble a—" He stopped short. The silence that followed chilled her blood.

  "What… what is that?" Logan croaked, a thick finger outstretched at the nightstand.

  Nadine looked helplessly at the princess, cornered in the shadows of the candles.

  "Sir Logan, stay where you are," Esmae blurted. Her heart hammered in her ears. This can't be happening.

  Logan backed away from her, his face white as a ghost. "My lady…"

  If he made it out that door, Evrosea could be in danger. Daniel's reign could be questioned, as could his betrothal to a girl caught with fairies. In an instant, Esmae's fear turned to a stringent command, "I order you to stay where you are!"

  The knight froze up obediently. Not a soul stirred in the chambers as each sized up the other. Logan looked as though he might keel over on the spot. His wide eyes crept from each of the fairies to Esmae's face and back again.

  "What's going on?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.

  Esmae's face hardened. She could feel Brennan squirming weakly in her grasp again. His safety had to take first priority.

  "Close the door," she said to Logan.

  His hesitance was frighteningly apparent. He backed toward the door, and Esmae feared once more that he would take the opportunity to run off. She wouldn't be able to stop him. The knight took hold of the door and paused, staring at her. Her expression turned beseeching.

  "Sir Logan, please," she told him. "I can't imagine how this looks, but you must trust me. Daniel… he may be in danger."

  To her relief, Logan shut the door and remained in the room, crossing the floor with new urgency.

  "What do you mean?" he questioned.

  "You'll know when I do," she said, cupping her hands beneath Brennan and lifting him closer to her face. Her heart twisted. He looked half-delirious. His wings trembled from exhaustion, and he panted heavily, blinking hard. Esmae's voice wavered. "Brennan, what happened to you?"

  "There's… caves," he grunted, attempting to sit up. "They had dogs, they tied him up, I don't, I don't…" He clasped a hand over his eyes and shuddered, looking ready to pass out.

  "Tied who up?" Logan chimed in suddenly. "The prince? Who?"

  Esmae gave a start, too worried over Brennan to have to noticed the knight practically leaning over her. Brennan looked up, his face a mixture of fear and distrust as he threw an unfocused glare at the knight.

  "Sir Logan, some space, please," Esmae said, looking to the nightstand. "Nadine, you're practiced in healing. I need you." It felt almost cruel to keep Brennan awake, but there was no other choice. "Nadine?"

  The fairy maid was still frozen behind the candles, looking paler than ever.

  "Nadine!"

  "Yes!" she squeaked, never taking her eyes off the knight. She hesitated a moment longer, then flew out from her hiding place rapidly, as if Logan would make a grab for her if she didn't move quickly enough.

  As carefully as she could manage
, Esmae lowered Brennan onto one of the pillows and pulled her hands away to give Nadine room to work.

  "I… I don't understand," Logan said, thankfully having taken a few steps back. "What is the meaning of this? Prince Daniel… does he—"

  "He knows," Esmae interrupted. She glanced at Brennan and Nadine fretfully before facing Logan again. "They're our friends. They bear no malice, sir, please believe me. Brennan accompanied Daniel on the journey to Anglian estate." Her throat felt tight with the threat of a sob. "The state that Brennan is in… Something's happened."

  She heard Logan begun to spout another question, but it seemed to stick in his throat as a golden glow poured from Nadine's palms. Esmae stole a nervous look at him as he looked on: dumbstruck awe was plastered across his bearded face, but there was no trace of malice, nor greed. It was a small comfort.

  When Nadine's spell was finished, she turned Brennan onto his side and pulled away his shirt at the back. She gasped, clasping a hand over her mouth in horror.

  "His wings are swollen!" Nadine gasped, looking up to Esmae. "It's…"

  "Humans," Esmae finished, peering closer. On her knees, she could see the raised, red flesh around the base of Brennan's left wing. It was a hideous, painful rash, and she marveled that he had managed the flight back to Mirrel in one piece. She'd only seen a wound like that once in her life, when scouts from Evrosea had returned bloodied from a run-in with human knights in the shallows of the woods years ago. She hoped now those knights had nothing to do with Mirrel.

  Against Nadine's gentle protests, Brennan lifted his head, fighting to stay coherent. "Esmae, it's Anglian. He sent men for Daniel. They have him."

  Her throat tightened. "Is he hurt?"

  The fairy shook his head. "They want him in one piece. But they're keeping him unconscious. Some sort of… fumes."

  Logan dropped to his knees next to the princess with a great thud. "Anglian. How do you know that name?"

  "I was there!" Brennan snapped. "They spoke openly of him. He orchestrated the whole thing to stage a rescue—surely so the crown will owe him for saving the future king." His chest heaved as he looked between the large faces looming over him. "We have to get to Daniel before he does—free him before it's too late to prove it's all a ruse."