Page 84 of A Beautifully Crafted Lie

“Àine.” She slows down, falling behind. My heart is racing when I turn to face her. “She’s a friend. Just trust me. I’ll explain everything later.”

In my mind, I’m still searching for Odhran.

Something moves in the shadows, and I signal for Laoise to stop. It’s not something. It’s someone! My heart claws up my throat as I reach for my sister’s hand and run.

“Bryn!” My name is called out in an exclaimed whisper. “Bryn!” This time louder, and I stop.

“Àine?” I frown, turning. My eyes strain to see the figure slowly stepping out of the shadows. Her hair is long and slicked back, wearing a modest dress that hugs her figure just right. I want to hug her; I’m so relieved.

“Where’s Eadan?” She looks back the way we came, but nobody is there.

“She—” The words catch in my throat. “She’s not coming.” I can’t look at Àine. It’s my fault. She didn’t deserve to die. Not like that.

Àine’s hand slaps to her mouth, her eyes widening. I once thought her to be Odhran’s servant. A pet. But she’s far from it. She may not have grown up with him like his other friends, nor share their aptitude for violence, but she’s still family.

“Take Laoise with you?” I search her eyes. She slowly drops her hand from her mouth. “Keep her safe…”

Laoise pulls on my arm, begging for me to look at her, but I don’t. “You can’t leave me!”

“We…” Àine clears her throat, stepping back towards the shadows, gesturing for us to follow. “We have clear instruction to take you to a safe place if anything happens.”

“Take her! I need to find Odhran first!” I turn my back on the two of them, not giving any other options.

“Bryn?” my sister calls after me, keeping her voice to an exclaimed whisper. “Bryn!” I don’t stop, don’t look back. I begin to run, remembering the map I copied and the area marked for patrol. I know that map because I was studying it for tonight. For mine and Laoise’s escape.

My heart pounds heavily in my chest, a wild rhythm that echoes in my ears. He isn’t in the Great Room. He isn’t there waiting for me like he was before. Odhran’s response is a fleeting glimpse through his eyes, showing two towering mountain peaks, which flash behind my closed eyelids. I turn, looking around me. In the distance is a slight silhouette with the same two peaks.

It’s too far to reach on foot. Stables! I need to get to the stables!

I run without caution, staying close to the castle walls and using the windowsills as cover. The voices from within fade as I make my way past each window, my focus solely on reaching my destination. The path is littered with sharp, crushed stone, but the pain is a small price to pay.

I halt before turning the corner, gasping for air. Squeezing my eyes shut, I silently plead for courage and round the corner.

The lawn is damp when I cross it. Ahead, the stables are lit by lanterns hanging from the walls. Rows upon rows of stables stand back-to-back. Soldiers engage in conversation, unaware, or perhaps only undisturbed by the happenings inside the castle walls.

Bundling my skirt in my hands, I tiptoe toward the stable block, keeping to the shadows where I remain hidden. Five horses, saddled and ready, stand tied to a post around the corner and out of sight. The horses undoubtedly belong to the five soldiers sharing a drink from a flask, roughly forty feet away.

“I haven’t ridden a horse since I was fifteen.” The lump in my throat grows. I hadn’t ridden a horse out of the confines of a paddock either, and when I did, I used a side-saddle.

I inch closer to the stable block, and my senses heighten. Every grate of gravel beneath their feet, every rustle of leaves—it all becomes magnified. If I’m caught, I’ll join Eadan in the afterlife.

“Cut a second slit in your skirt and get on with it.” Aed speaks with impatience. His words carry a sharpness that’s seldom aimed at me, but my focus remains on the soldiers, their laughter growing louder. Metal clinks against metal as they take another sip from their flask, oblivious to my presence.

I do as Aed says, unsheathing my blade, and cut an identical slit along my other thigh, freeing my leg so I can swing it over the saddle with ease.

Summoning every ounce of bravery, I step out of the shadows, my skirt bundled tightly in my hands. The horses’ ears twitch, sensing my presence, but I walk toward them, my movements fluid and purposeful. With trembling hands, I untie the reins, careful not to make a sound. I step on an object leaning against the wall, a quiver filled with arrows and a bow resting beside it. It’s large, most likely too big for me to handle, but I don’t waste time before throwing it over my shoulder.

The horse is tall, and the stirrups are long. In one swift motion, I hoist myself into the saddle, adrenaline coursing through me. Leather creaks beneath me as I settle into position. Once at a safe distance and out of sight, I can risk the heavy sound of a gallop. My heart beats frantically. I’ve stolen a horse from the castle’s guards. Stolen a horse and weapons with no actual idea of which path to follow, only a general direction.

“Head to the mountains,” Aed reminds me.

“I know!” I snap at him. “I’m human, not an imbecile.” I am human, I remind myself. The weight of my mortality settles in the pit of my stomach. How can I save them when I am the fragile one?

“You are exactly what you need to be.”

With a last glance over my shoulder toward the stable block and soldiers, I urge my horse forward, galloping into the night. The wind whips hair into my face, and my skirt flows behind me, gleaming with every touch of stolen moonlight. The bow and quiver slap against my back.

Voices echo through the trees. Distant but true. They’ve noticed and are coming. My heels dig into the horse’s ribs, and it responds with an accelerated stride. My thighs ache as I cling to my ride. Wind burns my eyes and tears stream down my face, finding their way into my ears.