Chapter 15

Thunder ripped through Brea’s mind, and she jolted up in bed.

Bed?

Her chest rose and fell with rapid succession as she tried to see her surroundings, hidden by the dark.

The marsh. Creepy alligator-lizard-dragons.

She released a sigh as she gripped the thin wool blanket pooled in her lap. Had it all been a dream?

Or had her magic really almost killed her?

Her eyes darted from the bed to the sliver of moonlight appearing through a crack in the… tent door? Yeah, she was in a tent. How? Who?

A flash of lightning illuminated the sparse surroundings for just long enough to take in the small bed roll beneath her and little else. Her pack rested in the corner next to a set of saddle bags.

Brea’s stomach ached with hunger, and she couldn’t take her eyes off the familiar bag Neeve had given her. It took her a moment to realize the steady drumming on the canvas overhead wasn’t in her mind. The rain kept coming like it had no intention of letting up.

Scrambling from the bedroll, she crawled across the mossy ground to her pack and ripped it open. Yanking every one of the few belongings she had out, she searched for the remaining food that should be there.

Nothing.

Turning her attention to the unknown saddle bags, she pulled them into her lap and dug through the stranger’s provisions. Still, no food.

Warm, briny air blew into the tent, bringing with it the rain. She scooted back from the opening, dragging her bag with her. Going through it more slowly this time, she found the small knife Neeve had given her. Whoever found her must have taken it off her body.

Tucking it into the waist of pants she didn’t recognize, she pulled her legs up to her chest. Weariness invaded her mind. Her limbs tingled with weakness, and it took her a moment to realize what she felt… or what she didn’t feel.

No magic pooled underneath her skin. It didn’t churn with her emotions and lend her strength in her greatest moment of need.

“It’s gone,” she whispered.

She should have felt relief. Her entire life, she’d stood on the edge of a precipice, her volatility threatening to send her into the abyss—or get her locked up in the Clarkson Institute. She now knew it had been the magic, her fae heritage, expanding everything she felt.

But now, in the absence of that, with the prospect of being just a normal human, there was an emptiness inside her, a void in her heart.

She had to figure out where she was. If whoever found her was taking her back to Gelsi, she may as well have stayed with the lizard things. A shiver wracked her body and she couldn’t make it stop. Wherever they were was warmer than Gelsi, but even that couldn’t still her body’s shaking.

Her teeth clattered, and she pulled her tangled mass of hair over one shoulder, running her hands through it as if that could provide her the comfort she needed.

“You are Brea Robinson,” she said. “You survived being pulled into a different world and living in a palace of lies. A manipulative aunt, a man who betrayed you, and… snakes.” She closed her eyes, trying to make herself believe the words. “You can survive whoever is outside this tent.”

A crash of thunder made her jump, sounding like it split the sky in two. If the fae world cracked open, would it let her return to the safety of Ohio corn fields, where the biggest danger was psychiatrists overanalyzing everything and mean kids at school?

At least none of them had swords.

She fingered the hilt of the knife, wondering what any of the kids she’d known would think if they saw her now.

“I need you, Myles,” she whispered. She pulled the blanket around her as if it could protect her from this world. “I really hope you’re alive.”

And if he was, she’d see him again. In all of Griff’s stupid promises, he’d never been able to give her that hope. How could he even keep all of his promises and lies straight?

She couldn’t go back to Griff, not after everything.

Kicking the blanket away, she stood and crept to the tent opening, peering out into the storm.

Two guards stood nearby, seemingly impervious to the rain in their leather armor. Tents sat haphazardly around the small clearing with cypress trees looming as shadows overhead. Were they still in the marshes?

Voices came from the guards. “We can’t stay here forever,” one of them said.

The other didn’t respond right away. “We have our orders. The girl must be awake for the journey. And we cannot leave until given the order to march.”

“What if she doesn’t wake up? We don’t know what happened to her out there.”

The second guard shrugged. “We will deliver her to the palace whether she lives or not.”

Lives or not. There words were so cold, Brea realized they must mean to bring her back to her aunt. After everything, she refused to go back there. What would they do to her after she ran?

She’d made it this far. Neeve’s words came back to her. “Don’t stop until you reach Eldur.”

She couldn’t give up now.

Sparing one more glance for the tent flap and the guards beyond, she pulled her knife free and scooted across the bed to the back of the tent. Gripping the thick material in her shaking fingers, she stabbed the tip of the blade into it and sawed, cutting a line down the tent.

When the slit was big enough, she stuck her head through. Water wicked into her eyes as it streamed down her hair into her face. She glanced up at the stormy sky, hoping the deluge would hide her escape.

She couldn’t make out her surroundings and didn’t know which way to go, but she’d figure that out once she was away from these Fargelsian soldiers. Gripping her knife tightly, she slipped through the opening and jumped to her feet. Pumping her legs, she sprinted as fast as she could for the trees.

Shouting erupted behind her, but she didn’t stop no matter how much her burning legs ached for it. Weakness vibrated through her, but she didn’t give into it. She couldn’t.

Solid ground turned to mud underneath her feet. As more soldiers shouted for her to stop, she had to keep going, wading into the swirling goo. It rose up around her legs the deeper she got, refusing to let her go. By the time the mud reached her thighs, she couldn’t move.

A cry left her lips as she tried to free herself, only managing to get deeper into the mud. A snake slithered by her legs, and she stabbed at it with her knife, flicking it away from her. It hissed and left her alone. This was it. She was going to die stuck in mud in a foreign world as soldiers chased after her during a storm.

She lifted her face to the rain as it broke through the tree cover. “I’m sorry, okay? Whatever I did to deserve this, I didn’t mean it.” She slapped her arm. “Brea Robinson, if there was ever a time to wake up, this is it.” Some small part of her still hoped this was a nightmare, a horrid and all-too-real nightmare.

“Don’t move!” a voice boomed out of the dark.

“Good thing I can’t, then!” she yelled back. “You’re lucky I’m stuck in mud or you’d have never caught me.”

In reality, her escape was doomed from the start. She was a half-human girl who only ran when being chased, not for any sort of exercise. Yeah, she was screwed.

“Stay there.”

“Already told you I have no choice.” Rain pounded into the mud harder and harder as her heart rate kicked up. Whatever Gelsi held for her was better than dying right here.

“Reach out,” the voice commanded. “As far as you can.”

She grappled in the dark, trying to find something to hold onto as she bent toward the voice. Her hand touched flesh, and she reached her other one out, gripping the man’s hand with both of hers, their fingers slick against each other.

“I’m going to pull you out.”

He tugged on her hands, and another set of hands clamped down underneath her armpits, lifting her as the other man pulled.

“Don’t let go!” someone yelled.

“Not planning on it.” Relief flushed through her as her legs came free little by little.

An arm wrapped around her waist and hauled her the rest of the way. She almost cried when her feet hit solid ground.

“I could kiss you right now!” she yelled at one of the soldiers over the rain.

“My Lady.” He jumped away from her, thoroughly scandalized.

Brea didn’t have the energy to laugh. She rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself to her knees as she tried to catch her breath.

Without waiting for permission, one of the soldiers lifted her into his arms and walked back through the trees. He didn’t speak until they reached the tent she’d escaped from.

He set her down, his aged face marred by a scowl. “Stay here.”

Turning on his heel, he marched away.

Brea looked around the tent, thankful for its semi-safe surroundings. She sat down on the bedroll, her entire body shaking with cold. Water streamed down her back, but it didn’t matter because the bed was already soaked from the rain entering through the slit she’d cut. She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself, until commotion sounded outside her tent.

A man walked in, his lips forming a smile that did not belong in this moment. “Well, my Lady, you have caused quite a stir.”

She shrank away from him. “What do you want from me?”

He removed his helmet, revealing a face even younger than she’d thought. He couldn’t have been much older than her. “I believe I should be the one asking questions. My men found you unconscious in the middle of the marshy Vatlands. No one travels the Vatlands alone except for one reason.”

“What’s that reason?”

“Tell you what, I will give you some answers, if you do the same. Let’s start with a name.”

“Breanne of Tarth,” she blurted before she could stop herself. Something prevented her from giving her real name.

He nodded as if that was a perfectly plausible name. “Tarth, is that a Gelsi province?”

She nodded.

“Well, Breanne, you’re safe here.” This time, his smile reached his eyes. He had a face one wanted to trust, but then, so had Griff. “My name is Finn. The only brave souls who traverse the Vatlands on their own are those who manage to escape the Fargelsian queen.”

“You’re not…” She sucked in a breath. “You aren’t taking me back there?”

He reeled back as if she’d slapped him. “No. Why would we do that? These men are stationed near the border to intercept those fleeing tyranny just like you. I am only here because my traveling companion has been waiting for someone.” He eyed her carefully. “How did you escape Gelsi?”

“I had help.” She didn’t want to reveal Neeve’s identity.

Finn rubbed his jaw. “Yes, well, even still… do you know of the border spell?”

He didn’t wait for her to respond. “Those with full Fargelsi blood are forbidden from crossing the border by the queen. Her magic keeps them there unless she releases them.”

Neeve had explained all this before, but it hadn’t really hit Brea then. That was why Neeve couldn’t come. Everything Brea knew about her aunt flashed through her mind. She’d known she was manipulative, but would she really go to such lengths to keep her power? To keep her people imprisoned?

Did Griff know? She wanted to believe he was just naive in all this, but she didn’t know him, not like she’d thought she did.

“I’m not…” What had she meant to say? She wasn’t a full Fargelsian fae? She wasn’t fae at all? No matter who her father was, she didn’t belong in that world.

An angry voice entered the relative calm of the tent as someone barged their way in, shaking sopping wet blond hair out of his face. Brea looked from Finn to the new intruder.

Lochlan.

He pushed his hair back, allowing her to see his blazing eyes.

“Ah, Loch.” Finn grinned as he turned to the other man. “Meet our newest Gelsi escapee, Breanne of Tarth.”

Lochlan’s dark eyes met hers. “If this is Breanne of Tarth, then I’m Jon Snow.”

Brea’s jaw fell open. “How… what… I mean, what?”

Lochlan’s jaw twitched, but he didn’t explain how he knew about a human TV series. Instead, he turned to Finn. “This is her.” He turned on his heel and marched away.

Brea scrambled from the bed, but Finn blocked her path, his face red with embarrassment. “You fooled me, Brea Robinson, but it is a pleasure to meet the woman who can vex the unshakeable Lochlan O’Shea.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She shoved him out of the way. “You can thank me for my service later. I need to talk to him.”

Darting out into the rain, she caught sight of Lochlan’s retreating back and ran toward him. “You can’t just walk away from me.”

He whirled to face her. “I can do whatever I please. I am the ranking officer here. These men follow my orders. I would appreciate if you no longer ran from them.”

“I make no promises.”

He approached her with the eyes of a predator, dark and dangerous. Griff hadn’t had a lot of the traits of the fae from stories she’d seen. He was beautiful, sure, but also smiley and seemingly kind. Lochlan on the other hand fit everything from human fiction novels. Cunning. Cruel.

Achingly attractive.

“How do you know about Game of Thrones?” she asked.

Lochlan shook his head in exasperation and gripped her arm, pulling her into a nearby tent. “It’s a deluge out there.”

“I noticed.” She crossed her arms over her soaking shirt. “Are you going to answer my question?”

“No.” He stepped around her and stripped the blanket from his bed. Holding it out to her, he met her gaze. “Wrap this around your body so you don’t catch a chill.”

“I’m fine.”

Lochlan’s scowl deepened. “Do you know how much risk you took tonight? We are in the middle of the Vatlands. Traveling at night is nearly impossible because of the mud pits that only get deeper and deeper. They’ve claimed many lives. You could have died.”

“But I didn’t.”

“Because of my men.”

He was right. She’d made a rash decision trying to escape and almost paid for it with her life. “I’m sorry.”

His expression softened for a beat before hardening into another scowl. “You are not to do it again. Since you so gratefully destroyed the tent we gave you, you will sleep in here tonight where I can keep an eye on you.”

“How will you keep an eye on me if you need to sleep? I could slit your throat with my knife.” She wouldn’t, but she could.

“What knife?”

She pulled the blade free and held it up.

Lochlan reached her in a flash, knocking the blade from her hand and retrieving it off the ground. “Not anymore.”

“Hey,” she protested. “That’s mine.”

“Let me be clear, Lady Robinson. I do not trust you. I have instructed my men not to trust you. We will deliver you to the palace unharmed, but should you try to injure any of them again, you will arrive tied to the back of my saddle. Do you understand?”

Her eyes narrowed. “The palace? Which palace?” He was a prince of Iskalt but a delegate of Eldur. She wasn’t sure which realm she feared more.

“Eldur.”

“With the dragons?”

He turned to the door. “Don’t worry, Lady Robinson. The dragons don’t eat things that smell like you.”

She would have sworn there was laughter in his voice as he sauntered from the tent.

She sniffed the shirt she wore and grimaced. Neeve’s smelly stuff had mostly worn off, leaving behind a faint rancid scent mixed with the smell of travel.

She just hoped Lochlan was right about the dragons.

###

“How long was I out?” Brea asked Finn as he sat in front of her, taking the first watch. He’d brought with him a canteen of water, stale bread, and dried meat. It wasn’t the gourmet meals she’d grown used to in Gelsi, but as hungry as she was, it tasted like five-star cuisine.

Finn sipped water from a tin cup, studying her over the rim. Finally, he lowered it and wiped his mouth. “Two days.”

Her eyes widened. So, they definitely knew she was missing from Gelsi by now. Had Griff returned and found her gone? Were Neeve and Moira okay?

“You should get some sleep.” Finn used his knife to slice through the bread and popped a piece in his mouth.

“Apparently, I’ve been sleeping for two days.” She couldn’t have relaxed if she tried.

Neeve told her she’d be safe once she reached the Eldur camp. Well, here she was, and she didn’t feel any safer.

“Why is Lochlan such a jerk?” she blurted.

Finn choked on his food, wheezing for breath. “I’m going to need you to say that again when he’s within earshot.”

She raised a brow. She’d only just met Finn, but she felt she knew Lochlan by now. From abducting her from a human prison to warning her in Gelsi, they’d already been through a lot together. “He’s your friend? You seem like nothing bothers you, yet he is kind of a douche.”

Finn sighed and ran a hand through his chestnut brown hair. “Appearances can be deceiving, Lady Robinson.”

“Can you stop with all the lady nonsense?”

“It’s what you are.”

“Because the Gelsi queen is my aunt? I’ll gladly relinquish that distinction.”

“No. Not because of that.” He didn’t elaborate, instead focusing on the meat in front of him. He offered her a piece.

She bit down. It tasted similar to beef jerky, only better. Myles used to make her gorge on Slim Jims and barbecue jerky his dad made in their smoker. She’d never liked it, but he did, so she went along with it.

“Why does the Eldur queen want me?” she asked.

Finn kept his eyes trained on his hands, but it was another voice that responded.

“That is not our business.” Lochlan stood in the opening of the tent with rivulets of water dripping off his powerful frame. “We do not question our queen. We follow her orders.” He gave Finn a pointed look that told Brea the two of them totally knew what the Eldur queen wanted with her. “I will take over Lady Robinson’s watch.”

Finn stood. “She wants to be called Brea.”

Lochlan grunted as if what she wanted was of little importance to him. It probably was.

Finn offered her an encouraging smile before leaving her be.

Brea crossed her arms over the dry shirt Finn had provided her with. “I’m surprised you want to sit in here with me considering I smell too bad even for dragons.”

He eyed her warily and took Finn’s spot on the floor. Ripping a piece of bread, he took a bite and chewed slowly. “You can bathe once we reach the palace.”

“And when will that be?”

He shrugged. “Four days? Five? Depends on this storm.”

“You know what she wants with me.”

“Yes.” He kept eating, not looking her way.

Her eyes narrowed, and she leaned back on the bed, refusing to look at him. Rustling sounded to her right, and when she turned onto her side, she caught sight of a very naked Lochlan pulling on dry clothes.

Her face heated as she rolled back over, trying to forget the image of his corded back and firm… She shook her head. Griff drew her in with his looks and his charm, she wouldn’t let that happen again. At least Lochlan had no charm to speak of.

“I trusted Neeve,” she whispered. When he didn’t respond, she kept talking. “Like you told me to. So… thanks.”

His sigh filled the tent, and when she turned to look at him once more, he sat back in his spot with his head bowed. “I wish we could get her out of there.”

So, he did care about something.

“Lochlan?”

He lifted his eyes.

She needed to know the answer to the question that could crush her. “Is he really alive?”

His eyes met hers, never wavering. “Yes.”

She didn’t know how, but she knew he told her the truth.

Tears built in her eyes. She blinked them away before more took their place. Shifting so Lochlan couldn’t see her face, she let the tears trail over her cheeks. Myles was truly alive. Her chest expanded like she could breathe for the first time since that awful day at school when she’d thought she’d killed him.

“Lochlan?” she whispered, her voice shaking.

“Yes?”

“Thank you.” When she got control of her voice, she spoke again. “Can I ask another question?”

“I’m coming to realize there’s no way to stop you short of a gag.”

She smiled at that. “Why do you hate me?”

As soon as she said the words, he tensed, revealing she wasn’t wrong. He’d been gruff with her since the first day in the human realm.

“I don’t—”

“Please, just be straight with me, I don’t think I can take any more lies or half-truths.”

He rubbed a hand over his face. “People have died for you, Brea. People I loved. I helped you at the request of my queen, but do not mistake anything that has happened as anything other than me following orders. You’re right, I don’t like you. I don’t want to sit here staring into the face of the girl who has taken so much from me.”

“I don’t understand.” What had she taken from him? Who’d died because of her? Her pulse hammered in her temples, sending waves of pain through her head. Her tears continued to fall.

“I wouldn’t expect you to. You may have fae blood running through those veins, but you’re just a human girl who has cost our world too much.”

“I—”

“Go to sleep, Lady Robinson. Our conversation is through, and tomorrow will be a long day.” He leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

Brea curled her legs up to her chest, trying to still the shaking of her body. She never thought she’d long for the solitude of the Clarkson Institute.

Maybe being delusional would have been better than being right.

The fae existed as she’d always seen, but their world wasn’t meant for a girl raised on a simple human farm.