by W. J. May
His lips twitched with a hint of sarcasm as he glanced back down at the page. “I can see it. You wrote it right there at the bottom, ‘this is real’.”
She snatched it away, cramming it back in her pocket. “Why is it so impossible to believe I’m not making this up?”
The fae lifted his eyebrows, tilting his head. “Why is it so impossible to believe you didn’t receive a mystical prophecy from a woman at a carnival and now we’re supposed to save the world?”
She ground her teeth together, wishing she’d gone to Asher first. It was very difficult to win an argument with a fae. Vampires, at least the tame ones, could occasionally see reason.
“I swear on my mother,” she said suddenly, pleased when some of the humor faded from his eyes. “I swear on your mother. Landi—I swear on everything good in this world. This is real.”
The prince stared for a long moment, every trace of the smile vanishing from his face. Then he glanced towards her pocket, looking abruptly thoughtful. Then thoughtful changed to curious.
“You’re sure she was a real witch? She wasn’t just messing with you?”
A rush of warmth flooded back into Evie’s body as she told him the entire story—leaving out not a single moment, examining every detail at length. When she was finished, she took out the paper once more and they lay it on the bed—reading it silently once more.
It was quiet for a few seconds, then Ellanden looked up with a faint frown.
“Three shall set out, though three shall not return...”
The princess’ eyes flashed up before settling nervously on the paper. In truth, she’d been so excited about getting a prophecy, then convincing her friends it was real, that she hadn’t really taken the time to think about what it might mean. But that first line didn’t bode well.
“I’m sure it’s not...” She trailed off, unable to sugarcoat it. After a few seconds, she bowed her head with a little nod. “Yes, that’s what the witch said.”
It was quiet a while longer, until the fae moved past it deliberately.
“Have you told Asher?”
“No,” she said in a sudden hurry, pulling him to his feet. “That’s what we have to do now.”
For a split second, it looked like he was going to argue. Then he glanced down at the paper, and tucked it into his own pocket with a nod.
Short of any other escape routes, the prince did exactly what she’d done herself—striding across the room to the open window before glancing into the darkness below.
“You made the climb yourself?” he asked, sounding faintly impressed.
“Barely,” she admitted. “And it almost broke my fingers.”
He nodded distractedly, needing no more information than that. With a twitch of his fingers he beckoned her forward, turning towards the window as she jumped onto his back.
“If we’re caught, I’m blaming this all on you,” he warned. “And there’s a decent chance I’ll drop you halfway there—just for good measure.”
She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Understood.”
He gauged the distance then warmed his fingers on his lips, bouncing a little in place. A second later he was about to jump, when he glanced down suddenly and froze in place.
“Seven hells!” His eyes flashed to her bare legs wrapped around his waist. “What happened to your gown?”
“It gets in the way,” she said impatiently, remembering all at once that the skirt had been removed up to the thigh. “I had to tie it back just to get over here.”
He opened his mouth to say something, then reconsidered and closed it again.
“Of course you did.”
Without another word, he moved back to the window and leapt lightly onto the frame. The night breeze blew back their hair as they tilted their heads up at the same time. Asher’s chambers were in the northern tower, clear on the other side of the castle. A castle crawling with guards.
“If this doesn’t work,” Ellanden breathed, “it’s been real privilege knowing you.”
Evie grinned, tightening her grip. “Don’t be foolish, we can’t die now. We have a prophecy to fulfill.”
Chapter 6
Evie and Ellanden had grown up together. They’d learned to walk together, learned to read together, learned to ride together, learned to fight with the same sword. They’d become so accustomed to each other the princess no longer saw any differences between them. They knew each other’s every secret. Read each other’s thoughts and moods like the back of their own hands.
But she’d never truly understood his strength until that very night.
“Talk to me, Evie. You doing okay?”
She pried her eyes open, wondering in which moment of terror she’d decided to close them. Since leaping out the open window—yes, leaping—the nocturnal climb had become a blur.
At first, it was exhilarating. The crisp night air, the sense of adventure. Clinging to the fae’s shoulders as she tilted back her head, gazing at the canopy of stars in utter delight.
Then she’d made the mistake of looking down.
“Just tell me we’re almost there.”
The fae laughed quietly, peering around a corner and searching for a grip. When he found none, he simply flung his body into the air—catching hold of the adjacent wall with a single hand.
“I’m so sorry this is difficult for you.”
It was difficult to miss the sarcasm, but the princess was beyond a place she could care. Her arms circled around his neck in an accidental chokehold as she buried her face in his hair.
“I don’t have any idea how you’re doing this,” she admitted, peeking in terror through the ivory waves as they sprang off the castle wall once more. “Aren’t your arms tired?”
“Have I never told you how impressive I am?” he asked in surprise, flitting up the stone wall as if he had wings. “That doesn’t seem likely.”
Evie just shook her head. The guy wasn’t even out of breath. She’d better learn to master her mother’s dragon fire, otherwise she’d never be able to beat him in a fight.
They continued for several more minutes, sticking to the shadows, before Ellanden came to a sudden pause. Hovering uncertainly more than a hundred feet off the ground.
“What is it?” Evie whispered, afraid to move. “What’s happened?”
“It’s the light,” he murmured, peering up at the full moon. “I can see the northern tower, but to get there we need to cross in bright, open moonlight.” His eyes flickered to the troops of guards down below. “I don’t know how that’s going to be possible.”
Feeling almost queasy, she craned her neck past his shoulder so she could see for herself. Sure enough, there was the northern tower. And there was no way to make it there unseen.
“Maybe we should just go back,” she breathed, though a chill of panic raced through her heart as she said the words. Tomorrow, they would be leaving. Tomorrow, there wasn’t time.
Ellanden shook his head, murmuring under his breath.
“We’ve come all this way...”
For a few seconds, he just hung there—shifting his weight occasionally to regain feeling in his arms. Then all at once, his eyes lit up with a look of mischief she’d come to both love and fear.
“Do you trust me?”
Her arms tightened instinctively as she shook her head. “I told you never to ask me that again. You promised.”
“Yeah, but do you?”
“...no.”
A little smile crept up the side of his face as he let go one hand, swinging them slowly out into the open air. “Then you’re really not going to like this...”
It was good that he warned her, otherwise there’s no way she wouldn’t have screamed.
To avoid the light, her homicidal friend had decided to drop back into the shadows. He’d decided to accomplish this by opening his hands and free-falling over a hundred feet.
Her eyes squeezed shut as her crimson hair flew up around them—making it look as though someone h
ad lit the friends on fire and tossed them from the roof. At the same time, her teeth sank into the top of his shoulder—biting back a scream, while inwardly shrieking at the top of her lungs.
Ellanden would later say it was just a few seconds.
Evie swore it took them ages to fall.
When at last they touched the ground, she didn’t notice. Her eyes were still closed and her arms were still clamped around his neck in a death-grip. The child of two immortals, she found herself thinking of all sorts of things she’d never considered before. Mainly—was there an afterlife?
“Evie.”
The princess’ lips were fluttering, but she didn’t hear a thing. She wondered who would sew the shroud for her coffin. Would she get the full ceremonial colors, or would it be more of a—
“Evie.”
She opened her eyes to find herself standing on solid ground, right at the base of the castle wall. Ellanden was standing in front of her, tilted back at an odd angle.
A second later, she realized why.
“Honey, you’re strangling me.”
She released his neck with a silent gasp, cheeks flushing in shame. He turned around, rubbing the sides of his throat, then glanced down with a twinkling smile.
“Told you I was impressive.”
She slapped him across the face.
Wisely deciding to save all gloating for another time, the fae grabbed her hand and the two started darting through the grass, crouching down whenever a phalanx of soldiers passed their way.
It felt a little ridiculous, given that they were technically her soldiers and Evie knew most of them by name, but she remembered the way Ellanden’s guards had questioned him. The way her own guards had refused her request to walk thirty feet down the hall.
Things had changed. They’d changed the second the councilman took that first sip of wine.
It didn’t take long to make it to the northern tower, now that they were on foot. The second they got to the base, Ellanden braced himself against the wall and she jumped onto his back once more—pausing only to yank back his head with a fistful of hair.
“Do not let go ever again,” she hissed. “Under no circumstances are you to release your grip on this wall. Do I make myself clear?”
The corners of his lips twitched in a little smile.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Then they left the courtyard behind them and started to climb.
Climb wasn’t the right word for it. Under the cloak of darkness, Ellanden threw caution to the wind and virtually sprinted up the side of the wall—touching down only occasionally with the tips of his fingers. At one point, when they got high enough, he actually reached back to secure his grip on the princess and continued the journey one-handed.
At that point, Evie decided he needed mental help.
When they finally got to the vampire’s room, she was panting. Ellanden, of course, was scarcely out of breath. He paused a moment beneath the window frame, shifting her beneath his other arm, then prepared to ease up onto the ledge.
Vampires spooked easily and the consequences could be deadly. The last thing they wanted to do was take him by surprise—
“Seven hells!”
There was a shout, a scream, and a curse the second they stepped onto the ledge. For the vampire hadn’t been sleeping, as they suspected. He was standing right on the other side.
He leapt back the moment he saw them, fangs bared, hands clutched to his heart. How they had gotten there, he had no idea. What they’d been doing, he didn’t know. He’d simply been staring thoughtfully up at the stars, when they popped up on the other side of the window.
Evie and Ellanden grimaced apologetically. Then Ellanden tapped on the glass.
With a visible scowl, Asher stalked forward—flipping up the latch and letting them inside. He was planning on shouting at them immediately, but the second Evie released her chokehold she collapsed onto the floor. Both men stared at her for a moment before looking up at each other.
“...nerves of steel.”
TEN MINUTES LATER, the three friends were sitting on the bed. The prophecy was spread between them, and Evie and Ellanden were waiting for the vampire to speak.
When he finally did...they didn’t like what he had to say.
“We should tell someone.”
Ellanden leaned back impassively as Evie’s eyebrows shot up in alarm.
“What?! We can’t tell anyone—what are you talking about?”
Asher looked at her in genuine surprise. “Why can’t we? Why wouldn’t we? This is a fate that concerns us all.”
This was the problem with bringing untested material to the vampire. That eternal logic. If you were going to include him in an argument, you’d better make damn sure he was on your side.
“Because they wouldn’t let us go,” Ellanden said softly. “You saw them today. First sign of danger, they panic and lock us in the childhood nursery. We can’t just spring something like this on them. We need to be smart.”
Both men had yet to address the prophecy itself. Both had yet to mention the fact that they’d been called upon by the fates to set off on a grand adventure to safeguard the very realm.
Evie supposed that part would come later.
“And how exactly do you suggest we go about that?” Asher quipped, studying the fae with those dark eyes. “Should we send them a note?”
Ellanden’s face warmed with a faint grin, though he shook his head.
“I’m not sure. We could wait until this mess at the castle blows over,” he mused, thinking out loud. “Make our plans in Taviel. When the dust settles and we’re allowed to come back, we could request a small band of soldiers to accompany—”
“That’s not how this works,” Evie interrupted.
Both men turned to her at the same time.
“We need to do this by ourselves.” Her eyes rested on them, trying to drive the point home. “And we need to do it now.”
Their faces blanked with identical shock.
“What?”
“Wait—what?”
She glanced down at the tiny piece of parchment, a newfound fire lighting her eyes.
“Prophecies are specific. They’re meant for specific groups of people. People who were chosen to band together—chosen by the fates.” Her voice rose excitedly, picking up speed. “Five kingdoms to stand through the fire—five people. You know how our parents found each other? In rebel camps, stalking each other in the forest, whoring around at a festival, and in a bar. There was no master plan—no grand design. It was meant to happen, so it happened. That’s how this works.”
Ellanden shook his head, looking worried for the first time.
“But Evie, the second it was possible they assembled an army to march upon the wizard. A few months later, they assembled an even bigger army to march to the Dunes. Most of the time they were travelling, Kailas and Serafina were by their side. Seven people—not five.”
“But they started off alone.” She jabbed a finger at the parchment. “Three shall set out. Not an army—three. You can’t just get around the semantics by throwing a huge army of people at the problem and hoping it will go away. It has to be three. And there’s no way our parents will let us go.”
Now it was Asher who looked worried.
“So what do you suggest?”
She bit her lip, poised on the edge of a cliff. If there was ever a time for group unity, if there was ever a moment when the three friends had to band together—it was right now.
“We leave, just the three of us. Together. Right now.”
A dead silence fell over the room.
“...that is crazy.”
Ellanden watched warily from the bed as the vampire and princess squared off.
“No, Ash, it isn’t—”
“Everly.” Never had he said her name in such a way. It was enough to make her flush with automatic shame. “How can you be serious? That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“It’s exactly w
hat our parents would have done,” she countered.
He threw up his hands. “Our parents...didn’t have parents to stop them.”
It was true. Given their penchant for danger and nomadic wandering, it was perhaps a good thing that all seven friends had been conveniently orphaned before their adventure could begin.
“The castle is in lockdown,” Asher said firmly. “It’s not like we can just leave.”
Evie crossed her arms sarcastically, cocking her head towards the open window. “You really think we can’t find a way out?”
“We wouldn’t make it two miles,” he snapped back. “Our parents would track us down. You really think our fathers wouldn’t be able to find us wandering around in the woods?”
Evie opened her mouth to answer, but the words died on her tongue. He was right. There was no way they could slip away from the castle. They’d be found before sunrise. Her heart sank as she stared down at the little piece of paper, the adventure fading before it even began.
Then a soft voice spoke up from the corner.
“Then we leave when they’re too far away to stop us.”
Evie’s heart lifted as Asher looked up in dismay.
“Ellanden, you can’t be getting on board with this!”
The fae shrugged his shoulders, pushing slowly to his feet. “She’s right. It’s exactly what our parents would do. And aren’t we always wishing that, someday, we would get the same chance?”
In a blur motion he was standing back at the window, gazing out into the night sky.
“Besides...who are we to stand in the way of destiny?”
Chapter 7
The next morning the three friends assembled as they were supposed to, in the courtyard with the others. A large caravan was travelling to Taviel, with separate carriages for each of the royals in attendance, but they casually requested that the three of them be seated in the same one.
Bags were packed. Weapons were carefully loaded. Soldiers took up position on impatient horses on either side, pawing their hooves into the dirt and straining against their tethers.