“The soldier there,” Lady Fliad says, pointing to Rangen who bobs his head in acknowledgement, “says it is our turn to bathe. The men will give us privacy except for a single guard who will keep his back to us and stay on the bank.”
She seems pleased with the arrangement. Maybe she’s really getting used to this kind of travel. Her eyes are as bright as her shining gold amulet.
We make our way through a twisted path between the trees and then out of sight to where the river is open. Draping the dry clothing on the bushes, we leave Rangen there with his back turned stiffly to us. He’s donned only his breeches and boots, letting the hot spring sun dry his skin. He almost looks like he could be going fishing with his weapons set aside like that.
Ignoring him, we strip quickly and leap into the water. The cold steals the breath from my lungs and for a moment, I’m flooded with memories of happy dogs hitting the pond water while the ice is still floating in chunks, their woofs filling the air.
We both hurry to wash, the icy water immediately reddening limbs and making everything tingle as if stabbed with pins all over. We’re wearing one shift in hopes it can be cleaned with our bodies and there’s a spare for each of us hanging with the dresses on the pine trees.
“You’re still wearing your amulets,” I warn Lady Fliad. She wouldn’t want to lose them under the waves after all the time she has taken to keep them close. I blink. Seeing them clearly, they look almost identical. Why wear two of the exact same amulet? Double the luck?
She shrugs, but though the movement is casual, there’s something odd that shines in her eyes. I’m too cold to delve into it. I duck under the water to clean my face and hair, hoping to be finished quickly so I can get warm again. I rise from the water almost immediately, gasping in the cold like a caught salmon.
Something tangles over my head and around my neck and I’m still dashing water from my eyes before I see what it is. One of the amulets. Lady Fliad has put it around my neck.
Confused, I turn to her and gasp.
I’m looking at myself. That’s me with those too-big eyes and wispy figure. That’s my scar over the nose and cheek where a tree branch hit me when I chased Ash through a storm when he was just a puppy. That’s me with the long dark hair and clinging wet shift. That’s not me in those eyes, though. I don’t think I’ve ever looked so calculating. She’s wearing an identical amulet.
I gasp and look down at what is now an impressive chest and rounded hips. I hold out my pale-skinned hands – purple from cold. My golden hair, darkened by the river water, hangs in tangles around the gold amulet.
“You don’t really want to marry the fae king,” Fliad says with my voice. “And I do. So, this is a tidy trade. As long as we both don’t take off the amulets, we two can both get what we want. I’m being reasonable. I’m making sure you benefit from this, too.”
I’m seeing all those times she was pale and tired clutching that amulet. How much energy does working magic cost?
I pause, not sure what to do. She’s not wrong. I don’t want to marry the fae king. With her body, I wouldn’t have to.
There’s a strangled sound coming from the woods, and my gaze snaps to it at the same moment that Lady Fliad’s – my? – gaze does. Rangen lied. He’s been peeking as we bathed and he’s frozen now, on the edge of the water, mouth open in astonishment.
Lady Fliad moves like a hunting dog scenting prey. She’s through the water and to the edge faster than I can get these unfamiliar legs moving. They’re not very strong and I stumble in my first step, misjudging how much power I have to turn and leap. I lumber forward, but I’m too slow, too awkward in this body that isn’t mine. Already, Lady Fliad has her hands around his throat and is dragging him under the water. She caught him off guard and by the way his eyes roll, I think he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to fight back.
She drags him under the water and bubbles roll up like a pot boiling.
And now I’m finally there, trying to pry her hands off his neck. I can’t get a grip. Everything is too wet.
My thoughts are hot and racing, clumsy in their speed. I need to get him free before it’s too late. He’ll be down the river before anyone can stop it. I need to do it now.
My hands fumble, leaving gouges in her wrists, but she doesn’t let her grip slacken at all. We’re grunting and gasping, beyond words as she grips and I claw, and Ranger grasps my legs with weaker and weaker hands.
There’s a splash right beside us and I don’t have time to think of what it might be before I’m thrown through the air onto the snowy bank. I land hard, pain flaring through my hip. With asmackLady Fliad lands beside me – still wearing my skin – and then Rangen lands beside her. Lady Fliad scrambles to stand and disappears, only to land again with a loud curse, but someone’s pinning her in the snow, and I can’t help how my eyes widen at the sight ofhimwet and dripping straddling someone who looks exactly like me.
I shake my head to clear it and scramble over the snow to Rangen. He’s the one who needs me right now. I check his breathing. He’s still alive but choking. I turn him to his side as he coughs out water, and then more water, and I’m too busy saving his life before he drowns on his own vomit to notice anything else until I hear the cursing.
18
HALDUR OAKENSEN
The soup I’m bringing for Rangen makes my mouth water as I balance it in my palms. I know our quick wash left me hungry as a bear in spring and he likely feels the same way. Best to feed him, or he won’t be alert. I ease my way through the trees, looking for him. He’s not on the path as I would expect, not even when I turn the corner and follow the narrow divot in the snow trampled just enough to make walking easy.
A strangled cry sounds from somewhere ahead and without thinking, I drop the soup and run. I don’t have a weapon with me. It will be hand to hand. Still no sign of Rangen.
I break through the trees and onto the icy shore, my breath sawing in my lungs. Something distracts me, waving in the wind, and I sink into a ready position, but its only dresses hung on trees.
I pivot toward the water and to my horror, the two ladies are in the icy water fighting over something. Their medallions catch the light, blinding me, but it’s clear that Iva is trying to keep something under the water while Fliad fights her off with all her strength. She’s not very strong, being a noblewoman. Iva keeps her back easily.
They gasp and grunt, and it’s all I hear along with their sawing breath.
I hardly know what to think. That they’re fighting at all baffles me. Iva has never so much as protested anything Lady Fliad wants done.
