The sea spray stings the raw burns on my wrists and the cuts from the glass. What should have been an experience surrounded by my Guard and full of joy has been turned into a flight for my life as I force my wings to carry me across to the mainland.
I tug a glamour over myself as I reach the beach, then dig deep to find the energy to keep going until I find a deserted enough place to land. My breathing is ragged, and a stitch stabs at my side, not helped by the pounding headache and weakness spreading through my veins.
Stretching my legs out to stop my descent does nothing except bruise my knees. My legs buckle, and I careen face-down into the sand, no doubt getting grit into all of my open wounds. A second later, a huge wave crashes over me, adding salt to the painful mixture.
“Fuck!” I scream, forgetting silence, as I stagger away from the water.
“Keep moving,” Mab advises. “You need to get to the treeline and away from the road. They’re not going to wait for you to heal.”
“It sucks like shit, kid.” Maeve offers me a grim smile. “But you did it! You flew.”
“What now?” I ask, gritting my teeth as I stumble up a dune. “Drystan said go to the temple… but…”
Goddess, my head is so woozy.
“If what that slimy sack of shit said is true, at least some of the priesthood are on their side,” Maeve grouches. “That stupid fucking asshole. He’s turned the temple on itself, and the queendom into civil war, not to mention killing—”
“Notnow, Maeve,” Titania hisses, as I stumble. “Just get to the trees, dear heart.”
They lapse into silence as I manage to scale the final dune and stagger my way into the forest. I cross the shaded threshold with a sigh of relief, and I make it three more paces before I stumble over a tree root and collapse against the nearest trunk.
Goddess. Everything hurts.
“What now?” I ask, belatedly realising I’m repeating myself.
My guides exchange a long look, and I get the feeling that they’re not sure either.
“You do have one last Guard,” Mab finally says.
“Are you kidding?” Maeve’s face is red, and she’s obviously shouting, but her voice is still hard to hear, and I realise with grim certainty that my symptoms are getting worse. “You think—?”
“I think it’s up to Rose to decide,” Titania steps between them. “Do you want to take that chance?”
Trust Caed?
No. I don’t. But I don’t think I really have a choice either.
Despite Drystan’s orders, I’m not stupid enough to believe I can make it back to Pavellen by myself, and Elfhame is under siege. Given the blackness branching up my burned arms at an alarming rate, I won’t last long either way.
“I might not trust him,” I begin, taking a deep breath as I sink down into the hollow formed by the ancient roots. “But Prae is with him.”
Against all odds, I trust her. Part of me hopes that if Caed were to betray me, she would at least give me a warning.
“And I trust myself.” I whisper, holding my head in my hands. “If he tries anything, I won’t hold back either.”
I have no powers to speak of right now, but holding back and not making a fuss is what led to this whole mess. If I’d strutted into Siabetha and demanded Eero’s vow straight away, forced them to summon him from his hunt—If I’d just been more confident…
None of this would’ve happened. Bram would still be—
I cut off the thought with a half sob as my chest tightens with grief.
Reaching inside myself, I find the five bonds to my Guard easily. More tears escape as I feel how subdued Lore’s normally eager one is, and the way that Bree’s sad melody has turned sour and evasive once more. I force myself to look past those, beyond Drystan’s horses and smoke and Jaro’s fur and teeth.
There, at the back, waiting for me, is the final bond.
The one that’s always felt like blades. Sharp, cutting. Full of rage.
Caed.
