We rode our horses into a clearing, surrounded by dark and mysterious woods that seemed to press in, suffocating, ever watchful. I hadn’t been able to relax the hours we’d been quietly riding down a narrow path to this hidden spot.
Brynjar smiled. He seemed amused with the many questions I’d been peppering him with since heading down the trail toward camp. When he smiled, he appeared younger, less brutal. But it didn’t make me any less nervous to be in his presence. I knew what he was capable of. What every soldier here was capable of.
He sat his horse with the ease of a man who had ridden most of his life. “Yes, my lady, we are well into Acadian land.”
I looked warily around the clearing, highly aware that I had no say in my own life here. Sure, I might be sixteen, but I was as knowledgeable, as pathetic, as a newborn. “And you believe that I belong here. That I’m part of this world?”
He nodded, so sure of himself. “Yes, my lady. I know you are.”
I wish I was as sure as he. It was all a great black void of mystery to me. I was completely reliant on these soldiers to get me to safety. I hadn’t relied on anyone in years. It left me feeling useless, weak. “I don’t like to be called my lady. Call me Shay.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t.”
Annoyed, I sighed loud and long. Prince Makaiden had, at least, called me Shay. It was awkward and weird being so formal. Still, having to go by my lady was the least of my worries.
The lingering question remained utmost in my mind: what exactly did they want from me? Why the escort?
Unlike Prince Makaiden, the Acadians trusted me enough to give me my own mount. Although I’d only ridden a horse as a child on a school trip to the zoo, I somehow managed to keep my seat. Being able to keep my seat didn’t mean I wasn’t horribly sore. I slid from my mount, my feet hitting the ground with a thud. My legs felt so heavy, the moment my toes touched the earth, my knees gave out. So much for being a natural.
I clung to the saddle, steadying myself against the horse, desperately praying my muscles would hold up, and I wouldn’t fall on my face. Above, a pair of doves cooed on a branch, oblivious to the turmoil around them.
I pushed away from the horse as a soldier came forward to take my mount. I would not make a fool of myself. Head high, if body slightly stiff, I made my way toward the campfire someone had started. Night had fallen. Stars twinkled above. The rain clouds had stayed near the mountains, and the evening remained clear.
We’d be at the castle by tomorrow, or so I’d been told. My new home. Until then, I was stuck with these men. Uneasy, I glanced around the camp. Thirty? Forty? So many I couldn’t decipher one from another. They all looked the same. I hated the fact that as a woman I had to constantly be aware of the men around me. Some things were similar no matter where you lived. I settled on the ground near the fire, the warmth of the flames comforting, at least.
“Does it not feel like home?” Brynjar asked, pausing near me and holding out a flask.
I drank deeply. Cool, clean water. My mouth was as dry as the dirt around me. Sated, I attempted to understand how I felt. Nervous. Confused. And…something I couldn’t explain. An energy I had never experienced before. It was as if I could feel the roots growing through the dirt. The leaves unfurling. The watchful, curious gazes of the animals hidden around us. I felt alive when I’d felt numb for so very long. But did it feel like home?
“No. It doesn’t.”
He settled next to me and pulled out a rag from his pack. “Did Earth?”
I thought about my answer while he took the flask. Did Earth feel like home? He poured the cold water onto the rag, then pressed the flask into my hands. I dared to search the woods around us. The darkness of night crept slowly through the branches, edging ever closer. Every snap, every hoot of an owl, put my nerves on edge.
“Well…no.”
It hadn’t felt like home, had it? I’d always had a difficult time making friends. I’d never truly understood people, and never felt as if they understood me. For the most part I’d kept to myself. Then again, it was hard to make friends when your mother was drunk half the time.
Brynjar took my hand, surprising me. His fingers were warm, callused from work. “Then perhaps you did know, deep down, that you belonged here.”
“Maybe,” I murmured, cradling the flask to my chest. A barrier between me and this unfamiliar man, between me and this strange world.
Gently, he brushed the damp cloth over my scratches. They stung, but at least they weren’t deep. When was the last time anyone had taken care of me? The heat of appreciation and embarrassment burned. Part of me wanted to pull away, but most of me wanted to see what he would do next.
Done washing off the blood and dirt, he pulled out a small container. It smelled musty, like dirt and fall leaves. He dipped his fingers into the jar and spread the sticky stuff on the scratches. A clear gel that seemed to sparkle under the moonlight. The medicine warmed my skin, making the wound tingle. As if by magic, the marks faded, clearing. I watched it all with a sense of awe and confusion.
“What? How?”
“Fairy dust, and other things.”
“Fairy dust,” I murmured. “Right. Of course.”
He glanced up through his thick lashes as he replaced the lid of the container. “You have questions, I assume?”
He had that same accent as the prince. Same as my mother. Old Europe my ass. I touched the skin where my wounds had been. It was as smooth as a newborn baby. I could have made a fortune selling the stuff on Earth. “Yeah, you could say that.”
Soldiers moved around the camp, dark shadows darting in and out of the path of the light. No one paid us any attention. They had their jobs to do. Brynjar lifted the hem of his shirt. I couldn’t stop myself from peeking at his muscled stomach, marked only by the ugly red line of his injury. He dipped his fingers into the medicine jar, then rubbed it over the wound. Slowly, the injury faded. He let his shirt fall back into place.
Amazing. No wonder why Makaiden had mocked our hospitals. “Yes, you could say I have questions.”
Brynjar stood and moved around the fire, away from me. I wasn’t sure if I should feel offended or not when he settled on the other side of the flames, the light dancing between us. I hadn’t had a shower in two days, and I’d been traveling. Perhaps I smelled worse than I’d realized.
“How much do you know?”
“Nothing.” I hesitated. What should I tell him? How much to divulge? “When I was ten, I overheard my mom telling one of her boyfriends that I wasn’t her child. I thought she was lying. Still, I guess a part of me wondered.”
The memory burned brightly in my mind, something I would never forget. I’d been horrified, scared, ashamed, alone. I’d been too afraid to ask for the truth. Later, when she’d started drinking, I’d hoped it was true. I’d dreamt of my real parents coming to rescue me. Of having that happily ever after with a loving family. As the years went by and I heard no more, I’d assumed I’d imagined her comment, or she’d lied. I’d given up hope.
“She wasn’t your mother. She was a woman sent with you, meant to keep you safe.”
I stared hard at the burning flames, a variety of emotions rushing through me at once. Shock, sadness, relief. “Keep me safe?” Tears stung my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I wasn’t even sure why I felt so suddenly emotional. I should have been relieved she wasn’t my mother, shouldn’t I? So why did my chest ache? “What will happen to her?”
“If we get the chance, we will return for the woman.”
I took another drink, suddenly wishing it was something stronger than water. Would she still hate me once she returned home? Or would she be grateful, relieved? “She’d like to come back, despite the fact that she’ll have to see me again.”
He tilted his head to the side, watching me with those light blue, fathomless eyes. “Why do you say that?”
“She wants to come home—”
“No.” He shook his head. “The part about you.”
<
br /> I released a wry laugh. “She hates me, to be blunt. She made it perfectly clear that I’d ruined her life. Everything was my fault, and I suppose it was.” I paused, swallowing hard. “If it wasn’t for me, she’d still be here. She’d have a life. Friends. Family.”
God, it all made sense now. Her anger. Her pain. The guilt I felt was silly, but there all the same.
“Nonsense.” His jaw clenched. “It was an honor. She volunteered. If she did not do her job, she will be severely punished.”
Frantic, I shook my head. “No. She kept me safe.” Bringing her back now would be a mistake. A big mistake. She wouldn’t be able to hide her hatred for me, her drug abuse. Would she be hanged? Beheaded? Who knew how these people would retaliate. “Just leave her alone. Let her be for now.”
He hesitated. “If that is what you wish.”
I nodded. We fell silent. A soldier started singing a song about a man going off to war, leaving behind his family. A sad song. A few others joined in. There was a camaraderie that I couldn’t deny. I’d always wanted to belong to someone, something. Could I belong here?
I glanced at Brynjar. “Did you know where I was all this time?”
He picked up a stick and pulled a dagger from his boot. “We were only just recently able to locate your whereabouts. We’ve been looking for a season. Before then it wasn’t safe.”
But it was safe now? I looked around us, searching the dark forest. It didn’t seem safe. It seemed watchful, mysterious, dangerous. “I don’t understand. I don’t understand realms, kingdoms…”
He started to scrape his dagger against the end of the stick, pieces of bark fluttering to the ground. He was making a spear, but I had a feeling more out of boredom than for use. This was a man who didn’t lounge around, talking. “She should have told you. She should have kept you informed, educated.”
I pressed my lips firmly together, not daring to reply. I didn’t want to condemn her any more than I had. She might have hated me, she might not have been my mother, but I still cared about her. In a way, I would always think of her as my parent.
“Will you explain?”
He took a drink from his own flask. “The world is like an onion, my lady. It is formed in layers, or realms. Some are thinner, easier to break through, to go back and forth. This would be our realm and Earth. Others are thicker, more difficult to get through. Some are near to impossible.”
I placed my flask on the ground and hugged my knees to my chest. “So, there are other realms besides Earth and this one?”
“Yes, although I have only been to Earth.”
It was too much. My temples throbbed. Overwhelmed, I closed my eyes and rested my forehead on my knees.
He cleared his throat. “She truly told you nothing?”
“Nothing.” I lifted my head and met his gaze. “As you can imagine, I’m kind of freaked out.”
He nodded slowly. “Freaked out.”
I could tell he’d never used those words before in his life.
A soldier appeared and handed me, then Brynjar, a pewter plate of roasted meat and potatoes. Simple food, but I was starving. “Thank you.”
The soldier blushed, bowed. “There will be better food at the castle, my lady.”
He raced away before I could comment that I didn’t mind. My stomach rumbled, I felt nearly dizzy with hunger. I picked up a potato and shoved it into my mouth. It was sweet, delicious, with the slightest smoky taste from the fire. Like nothing I had ever eaten before. The meat was just as soft and tender. I licked my fingers, savoring the taste of salt, fat, and herbs I didn’t recognize.
After a few bites my appetite was sated enough that my stomach relaxed its grip, and that’s when I felt their attention. I dared to glance up. Most of the soldiers watched me closely, too closely. Even when I looked away, I could feel their attention on me.
“You’ll get used to it. Before long, you won’t even notice. It’s the way of being part of the royal family.”
“Royal family?” My plate fell from my fingers, hitting the ground and dumping the remainder of my food to the dirt. “Wait a minute. I’m not…you said…I’m just…me.”
He looked bemused, as if he didn’t understand my confusion. “Well, yes, of course you’re you. But you’re also part of the royal family. Did he not tell you?”
Oh hell, there’d been a mistake. They’d gone through so much to get me here and they’d made a terrible mistake.
“Listen,” I said, standing. “As much as it would be great to belong here, and be all rich and famous, I’m not royalty.”
He didn’t seem to care what I thought, but stuffed a piece of meat into his mouth. “The natural beings don’t lie, my lady.”
Frustrated, I threw my hands into the air. “What does that even mean?”
He sighed and set his plate on the ground. “Sixteen years ago, you and two other babies were sent with three nursemaids to Earth Realm.”
Slowly, I settled back on the ground. “Okay.” So, I hadn’t been alone after all. There had been others on Earth with me. “Why were we sent there?”
“For protection. The royal family was murdered. War was inevitable.”
“My parents…”
“Dead.”
His words hurt more than I wanted to admit. My parents were dead…gone. I would never have the chance to know them. To experience a real family. “And that war…did it happen?”
He took a drink from his flask. “It did. For five, long, bloody years. Many died. Since then, there has been a very fragile peace between Acadia and Cashel.”
An owl hooted from somewhere above.
“Prince Makaiden’s kingdom?”
He nodded. “Acadia and Cashel are two of the largest of the kingdoms, however there are five smaller ones.” He took another drink. There was no emotion in his blue eyes. I had a feeling he’d lived through too much to let something as insignificant as bad memories get the better of him. “We know it is inevitable. War will happen again.”
A shiver raced down my spine. War. I didn’t know anything about war. “And the other two children…where are they?”
He shrugged. “They are of no importance.”
They were important to me. They were stuck on Earth, perhaps feeling alone, lost, confused. They were the only two who understood everything I had gone through. Perhaps one of them was the true royal, because I knew I wasn’t. “So, if I’m alive, I suppose it worked.”
He nodded. “You survived.”
“Will you try and find the others?”
He hesitated. “I don’t know. We’ve found you, that’s all that matters.”
I surged to my feet. “No. My life was shitty. Really shitty. What if their lives are as well? They deserve to return to their homes. They didn’t ask to be taken away. They didn’t ask to be torn from their families.”
He sighed. “We will look into it.”
I didn’t feel very reassured. I had a feeling he was just agreeing to appease me. He stood and started to walk away. He was obviously done with the conversation. I wasn’t.
“Why am I so important?” I called out. A few soldiers took note of my raised voice and glanced my way, but I didn’t care. “Why go through all of this for me…just me?”
He turned, giving me a long, hard look. And with that look I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know the truth anymore, but it was too late. He stepped closer, his voice low, controlled. “Because, my lady, the prophecy says you will destroy Cashel, and save us.”
****
“The prophecy says you will save us.”
I’d been so shocked, so confused by his words that I hadn’t questioned Brynjar further.
I would save them. I would save them? It was preposterous. Insane. I’d never in my life heard something so hilarious. But he hadn’t laughed. He’d merely turned and walked away, leaving me standing there with my mouth hanging open like an idiot. What was he thinking? I could barely save myself.
“We have arrived, my lady,” Brynj
ar said, interrupting my thoughts.
I jerked my gaze toward the scenery. “Already?”
The trees had parted, and a wide expanse of lawn stretched before me. My gaze skipped over the open gardens, and went straight toward the focal point: the enormous castle. Stunned, I drew back on my reins and paused on the edge of the forest. My horse shook his mane, neighing in impatience. He, most likely, recognized his home and was eager to return to his stall. But I wasn’t ready. So not ready.
“This is where I will live?” I laughed, sounding much like the seagulls calling from above. “This is my new home?”
Beautiful gardens with colorful flowers laid out like a patchwork quilt. Just beyond, the sea sparkled under the setting sun. The scent of sweet roses mixed with the salty air. Heaven. It was like a freaking fairy tale come to life.
A long, gravel drive swept welcomingly to the estate. Made of white stone, the castle glowed as if blessed by Greek gods. A turret stood proudly on each corner, while large windows winked under the sunlight. White columns ran the length of the front stoop holding up a balcony on the second story. It was a mixture of Greek and Medieval. It had looked large from a distance, but up close, it was massive.
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“No, my lady.” Brynjar didn’t smile, but I could see the amusement in his gaze. “And yes, this is now your home.”
I glanced behind us for confirmation. The many soldiers were waiting impatiently for me to move onto the drive, the signal to continue. They were as eager as my horse to get home. When I turned back around, I realized the entire damn castle stood waiting. People crowded the gardens, drawn by our appearance. Were they curious about my arrival, waiting for me to save them? Save them from what, I wasn’t sure. One thing I did know was that I was no savior and this would end very, very badly.
Sweat peppered the back of my neck. My skin felt suddenly tight, itchy. I leaned closer to Brynjar. “What do they want from me?”
“From you?” A thin scar ran through his right brow. “I don’t understand.”
“I mean, what do they expect me to do?”
He rested easily on his mount, the reins loose in his hands. Although he appeared at ease, I knew it was a ruse. A sleeping bear, when awoke, could do so much damage. It was obvious he’d been born a soldier. This was his lot in life. While mine was apparently to save a kingdom. What the hell did I know about being royalty? My knowledge of castles was based on Disney: ball gowns, talking forest animals, wicked witches.
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