SWNOVELS Curse of Shadows and Thorns: Chapter 34
We were forced to keep to the trees, and it took another day before we reached the alehouse. I’d almost dared hope the Guild of Shade and their prince might be there.
I was left disappointed.
Sven asked about Valen—Legion—but we couldn’t tell him the truth. We were compelled to keep quiet. We told him he was alive and then went his own way. The curse was broken.
The aleman seemed a little agitated Legion Grey had not returned himself to share the news. I understood the feeling.
“You’re from Mellanstrad, right?” Sven asked as he wiped down one of the tables.
“Yes,” I said, swirling some spiced red in a horn, absently.
“Well, did you know Ravenspire raided the town? Said it was in search of you and Legion. Word must’ve got out about what happened at your old manor.”
My stomach lurched. “Ravenspire attacked its own people?”
“Went mad, from what I hear. A lot of folk fled to Ruskig. Mostly the half-Ettans. Ravenspire is determined to make this land all Timoran. I wouldn’t be surprised if serfs wound up missing. These days are mighty strange.”
I scrubbed my face as he walked away. Calder had attacked Mellanstrad because of me. What had become of Mattis? The game hall used on respite eve? I couldn’t stay here and do nothing. Up in the garret I gathered what few supplies we’d left behind. Mostly journals—Lilianna’s especially. Valen was in them, and strange as it was to read about his childhood, it helped me feel close to him in a way.
Outside, Siv had saddled her horse and mine. She no longer looked like a serf, but a fighter in a mottled tunic and knee-high boots.
“Elise, I miss Mavie,” she blurted out. “I loved her as a friend and I know you don’t believe it, but I plan to stick together, you and me. I didn’t want anything bad to happen to either of you.”
I secured my satchel, chest tight. “I know, Siv. Perhaps we can put the past behind us and go forward from here.”
She grinned. “Good, because I think I know where we can go until we figure out our next steps.”
“Where?”
Siv handed me a bit of the roasted squirrel meat Sven had cooked this morning. “I’m taking you to my clan.”
“You would turn me over to the Agitators?”
“No,” she said and wrung her fingers together. “But I don’t know where else to go. They will be angrier with me than you, but if I tell them how you stood with Ettans and how you’ve been kind to me, that you aren’t loyal to the crown, they might give us refuge. We’re very good at hiding.”
I didn’t want to hide. Too much was changing. I needed to speak with Prince Valen Ferus again. Give him a piece of my mind, then maybe kiss him before demanding he come to his senses all over again.
He’d broken my heart. A heady pain I carried hour after hour. Day after day. But by the gods I loved him. A brutal, funny, irritating, passionate dead prince.
“We have nowhere else to go, Elise,” Siv said. “Trust me, it is my last resort, but it could give us time to plan how to reunite with the Night Prince.”
My mouth tugged into a grin. “Ah, so you have plans to tell a prince he’s wrong, too?”
Siv chuckled and mounted her horse. She adjusted the bridle in her hand and guided the mare toward the trees. “Not a prince, Elise. I plan to tell a king he’s wrong.”
I didn’t argue. Where could we hide from Ravenspire? I would not wait for Valen to change this land. Not when I knew my sister and my cousin did not belong on the throne. He’d either join with us or be forced to tolerate us being outspoken and putting our necks on the line for his family in our own way.
I’d see him again. I was too stubborn—so was he—to let this matter lie.
As we darted into the trees to seek Agitators, who would either kill us or welcome us, a silky scent of vanilla and honey and a little hint of rain wafted from the bushes. As we galloped past, I grinned at the satin blossoms of silver. A new sight to me. Big and bold on vines of black leaves, tangled into a towering shrub.
Moonvane was alive once again. The land had already begun to welcome back its prince.
For three nights we kept to the thickets and briars lining the roads. Too many ravens rode back and forth between townships.
In alehouses we bought bits and pieces of what had happened in Mellanstrad. Blood. Attacks. Imprisonment. Chaos.
By the third night, I slouched beside a miserable fire, tugging a thin woolen mantle around my shoulders. I couldn’t know for certain, but if I had to guess, Mattis was gone. Imprisoned. Or worse—dead. If my sister had become as vicious as I assumed, I had few doubts my known friendship with the carpenter would be his downfall.
Siv had said little today. I didn’t press. What was there to say? The Night Prince lived but would not take the throne. Mattis was gone. Our land, our people, would soon be at war, and we were fugitives.
“We will be crossing into Ruskig territory tomorrow,” she said once the fire died down.
I nodded and gathered a tattered quilt Sven had supplied us. Tomorrow would be the day we earned the loyalty of the Agitator clans, or it’d be the day we die. Either way, I was nearly too exhausted to care.
“Do you—”
I didn’t finish the question. Branches snapped. Stones scraped on stone, as if a large creature stalked the darkness in the trees. Siv had a knife in her grip. I was less prepared but fumbled swiftly through our packs until I secured the dagger Valen—when he was Legion Grey—had given me.
My heart pounded in my chest with such rage I thought it might split its way out. Night thickened. I was ashamed how my hand trembled on the dagger.
Too soon the branches parted, and our meager campsite was filled with hooded figures. Most stood tall and broad. Furs and pelts and cowls enrobed their shoulders. I focused more on the glint of steel on their waists. Each man bore a battle axe, or knife, or dagger sharp enough to cut bone.
They said nothing.
Silence tortured.
I licked my bottom lip and held my dagger as firmly as I could. The blood pounded in my ears as the dark crowd of men divided and a man without his hood appeared in the moonlight. His skin was toasted brown, eyes like tilled soil, but his hair reminded me of harvest wheat. Golden brown. I pointed the tip of my dagger toward his chest once I noted the tapered point of his ears.
“Night Folk,” I said in a rocky rasp. “Stand back. We are not your enemy.”
He laughed, revealing his white smile. “I believe we’ve found the right woman, brothers.”
My eyes flicked to the men in the shadows. Laughter rumbled through them. I faced the leader once more. “Who are you?”
“First, answer me this: are you Elise Lysander, the second Kvinna of Mellanstrad?”
“I don’t need to answer anything to—”
“If you wish to keep your tongue you’ll answer,” he said, grinning.
“I have been threatened worse than that. You’ll need to do better.” I lifted the dagger, so the hilt touched the side of my cheek.
The fae man beamed, a gleam of thrill in his dark eyes. “I think we will get along nicely, Kvinna Elise.”
“I never said my name.”
“Ah, but I have heard too many tales of your strange bravery and disloyalty.” He made a gesture to my wrist. “And there is that, too.”
I glanced down at the raven head bracelet on my wrist. My stomach backflipped. The hot tang of bile soured my tongue. I was a fool. My arms dropped to my sides, and I let out a long sigh. “What do you want with me?”
He tilted his head. “I believe you’ve been looking for us?”
Siv perked to attention. “They’re part of the clans, Elise.”
“Yes. You call us Agitators. It’s rather offensive, really. Perhaps it is the Timorans who are the agitators. But no matter, we know you’ve been looking for the refuge we can offer.”
I nodded, desperate now for them to accept us. “We are not your enemies. By now we are enemies of the crown.”
Dark murmurs hissed through the men.
“Forgive them,” said the fae. “They prefer the Timoran royals to be called the false royals.”
I didn’t care. “Will you help us? We wish to fight against the false king and his queen.”
“Your sister?”
It bit, sharp and harsh, but I nodded. “Yes.”
The fae paused for a long moment. “We will give you refuge, Elise Lysander. If you do something for us. Odds are you won’t survive, but it is the price we require for taking you in, what with you being such a risk. Do you agree?”
“Without knowing what the task is?”
He grinned with a touch of wickedness. “Your choice.”
I glanced at Siv. She shrugged, but worry lived in her eyes. What choice did we have? We were alone out here with the entire guard of Ravenspire breathing down our necks.
“Fine. Agreed.”
“Very well.” He turned to retreat into the shadows again.
I quickened my step to jog by his side. “Wait, what is your name?”
“Ari Sekundӓr.”
“And you lead the Agi . . . the clans?”
More laughter rose behind me, but Ari simply stopped walking and looked to me. “We have held out hope for true royals to rise. But, alas, we fae have accepted our hopes were misplaced. They are dead. A new line has begun.”
“What are you talking about?” The Agitators worshiped Valen.
“Ari brought life back,” said a man in a hood. He palmed a silver bud of moonvane.
I furrowed my brow. “You . . . you think you brought back the vines?”
“I do not think. I know.” Ari shrugged, a smug grin on his face. “Fate is fickle.”
But he didn’t bring back life to this land. Valen was alive. I wanted to scream it at the top of my lungs, but his damn fury kept me silent. How dare they abandon him; how dare he hide from them. Clearly, the Night Prince was needed more than ever. I bit words through my teeth. “So, what? You’re now taking control?”
Ari bowed his head and pressed a cold kiss to the top of my hand. “Yes. My folk have claimed me as their new, very alive, king. And I swear to you Timoran Kvinna, I will take back what my people lost. By any means necessary.”
He grinned, a wicked kind. I thought he might be trying to frighten me, but it sent a thrill running up and down my spine.
These were the people of Etta. At the moment they accepted another king, true. But in heart they were Valen’s people. They were loyal to him and would be again.
My smile widened.
They would be the way back to him.
I knew it like I knew to breathe. Fate led me here, and in all her games and tricks, she would lead me back to the Night Prince of a new, rising Etta.