Page 16 of Memory of Ashes

“Come with me now, or I’ll feed you to that.” He gestured towards the forest with his head.

She nodded mutely.

They climbed down the tree, Amelia following closely behind.

He waited at the bottom and grabbed her by the waist, lifting her down. He seized her arm and ran, dragging her along with him. When she struggled to keep up, he lifted her over his shoulder, carrying her as he ran. She was too tired to protest.

They burst from the trees out onto a sandy beach, where a blond fae waited with four horses. He ran towards them.

“Where’s Ruven?” the blond fae asked, scanning the forest behind them.

“He’s still in there. He distracted the Feltooth so we could get out.”

The man ran into the forest, leaving Amelia alone with the raven-haired man. He placed her down on the sand.

“Why the hell did you go into the forest?” he yelled. “Now one of my men is dead and the others are at risk too. You’d better be worth it.”

He muttered the last part.

The exhaustion muted her fear of him. What did he mean, she’d better be worth it?

The blond man emerged from the forest with another fae, who had short brown hair and mischievous green eyes. The newcomer carried an enormous bow like those she had seen the others use. The blond man ignored her, but the newcomer winked. The raven-haired fae’s expression silenced him.

Mounting the horse after Amelia, the dark-haired fae settled into the saddle behind her. She tensed as his arms slid past her waist, holding the reins. They galloped along the beach for hours. She kept nodding off in the saddle despite the discomfort. She’d been on horseback before, but she wasn’t an experienced rider. Women back home usually travelled in carriages or carts pulled by donkeys.

The fortress loomed in the distance. She sagged forward. Her attempt at escaping had failed.

The fortress gates groaned open at their approach.

The priests’ holy town had been a place of intricately carved white buildings, green grass and tranquil streams running beneath delicate bridges. The fortress was its opposite: dull stone blending into the grey sky above the rough sea.

The dark-haired fae carried her from the horse inside. She was too tired to protest, aware of every ache in her body.

This was the first time she’d seen the inside of the fortress, apart from her cell. They marched through dimly lit halls whose cold stone walls were bare. They stopped outside a room. It was small but contained a comfortable-looking bed, several pillows, and a wooden table and chair. It was an improvement on her last prison, although there was no window. She clearly couldn’t be trusted with one.

That made her smile.

He placed her on the bed, ordered the guards to remain outside and left. The door locked behind him.

She sank into a deep, feverish sleep. Through her fever, she glimpsed a woman with long ears and bright eyes standing over her bed. Hands tapped her face and pulled at her hair as she tossed, turned and tried to bat them away.

She heard voices in the distance. “She’s burning up. Send for the healer.”

Flames engulfed her. She choked on the smoke. She was so thirsty.

She awoke, her hair plastered to her head and face.

The dark-haired fae entered her room. He had changed his clothes and washed away the dirt and blood. He crossed the room to the table, picked up the chair and positioned it next to the bed.

She sat up to face him.

“Here, drink.” He passed her a goblet of brown liquid.

She smelt it and cautiously put it to her lips. It tasted sweet.

“What is it?” she croaked.

“Honey water.”