I pause, the cup halfway to my face. “You do?”
She smiles a sly smile. “Don’t worry, not everyone in Wynmire supports Auradelle and his crusade. Word of the red-haired beauty with the mark spread quickly throughout the kingdom. Not everyone was a fan when Prince Kaelren was cast out.”
I consider this and take a sip of my tea. “So you live here?” I say as I glance around the room and set my teacup down.
She grins. “No, no one really lives in the Barrens. This is more of a cottage left available for travelers as they are passing through.”
“Convenient.” I look at her over the rim of the cup. There’s something about her I can’t quite place. A familiarity in the way she carries herself, in the tilt of her chin when she talks. It’s nagging at me, but I chalk it up to having met approximatelyten thousand fae, all of whom think they’re the most interesting person in any room.
“You know,” Thalia says, leaning against the small table and crossing her arms, “you being out here alone is unusual. From what I’ve heard, you’ve been making quite a name for yourself.”
My stomach drops.
“Rumor is you were last spotted near the Thornwood border, about sixty miles west of here.”
Thalia’s eyes are sharp, watching my reaction carefully. “You’re wanted by Auradelle. There’s a large bounty on your head. Apparently, you went full vigilante, stole half of Kaelren’s crew right out from under him. They sided with you over him, which, as you can imagine, did not go over well.”
I almost choke on my tea. “I did what now? Stole his crew?”
“Half of them. The rest stayed with Kaelren, but he’s been searching for you, too. Whether to bring his people back or drag you home by your hair, nobody seems to agree on.”
“That tracks,” I mutter. Different iteration, same stubborn fae male.
Thalia tilts her head. “You say that like there’s more you’re not sharing.”
“It’s a long story.” I drain the rest of my tea and set the cup down. “So if I’m sixty miles west making everyone’s life difficult, but I’m also sitting here in the middle of a desert drinking tea with a stranger, I’m guessing you had a feeling there was more to this than meets the eye.”
“You could say that.” Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes this time. There’s something heavier there, something she’s holding back. “A woman with your face, out here alone in the Barrens with no supplies and no crew? Either you’re incredibly stupid, or you’re not the Elle everyone’s been talking about.”
“Little of column A, little of column B.”
She snorts. “I like you.”
“Yeah, well, don’t get too attached. I tend to get yanked out of places with little warning.” I stretch my arms above my head and wince. Everything aches. Floating through the void between iterations apparently does a number on your joints.
“Look, Thalia, I appreciate the rescue and the tea, but I need to figure out where I’m going next. I’m looking for—”
Her hand shoots up. “Quiet.”
I shut my mouth. Thalia’s entire body has gone rigid, her eyes fixed on the window behind me. The playfulness is gone. She moves to the far wall and presses her ear against the sticks.
“What is it?” I whisper.
“Troops.” She pulls back from the wall, her jaw tight. “Auradelle’s patrols. They must have gotten word someone was out here.”
I crawl off the cot and duck below the window, peeking over the sill. Sure enough, I can see them. Dark figures cresting the nearest dune, at least twenty of them, fanning out in a semicircle around the cottage. Their armor catches the light, that pearl-and-poison sheen I’ve come to associate with nothing good.
“Well, this is just fantastic,” I hiss. “How did they find us this fast?”
“The Barrens are Auradelle’s dumping ground. He sends patrols through regularly to make sure no one’s using the trade routes without his permission.” Thalia is already gathering things: a small pack, a waterskin, a blade that was hidden beneath a loose floorboard.
“We need to go. Now.”
“Go where? They’ve got us surrounded.”
“Not yet. They’re still closing in.” She grabs my arm and pulls me to the center of the room. Her emerald eyes lock onto mine, and I see something flash in them, a shimmer, like light hitting water. “Do you trust me?”
“I met you ten minutes ago.”
