Page 48 of Black Hearted
When I finally spotted a fire on the horizon, relief threatened to weaken my muscles. But I tightened my grip on Lorelei and the reins, urging Biscuit to go faster.
As we reached the fire, I saw over a dozen fae surrounding it and many more setting up tents in the surrounding area.
“I have her,” I called out, and the men erupted into a flurry of activity.
“Get word to the queen,” Captain Lace snapped at one of his men.
“It’s dark. I don’t know where she camped—”
“Go!” Lace roared.
The messenger nodded, mounting his horse and riding off into the darkness. As I scanned the horizon, I spotted three faint fires in the distance. He’d have to check each one to find Lorelei’s mother.
“Is she alive?” Captain Lace appeared before me, his arms outstretched as he looked at Lorelei with a mix of adoration and awe.
I growled slightly, disguising it with a cough. I felt possessive of her and didn’t want to hand her over. But I reminded myself this was his princess—his charge to protect.
“Yes, but she’s weak,” I said, reluctantly letting him take her from my arms. “Something’s wrong. She should have woken by now.”
When he took her, it felt like he’d taken all the warmth from my soul, leaving me hollow. Between leaving Nellie behind and now this, I felt utterly empty.
The captain gently laid Lorelei on her back in front of the fire. Her soft hair fanned out around her as he spread her arms, palms up. She looked as though she were peacefully sleeping, but the soft whimpers escaping her lips told a different story.
“Get the plants,” Captain Lace ordered, and the men began moving quickly around the princess.
“What’s happening?” I demanded. “Is she okay?”
Captain Lace glanced at me, his expression grim. “Our princess has a unique magic. It requires her to be near living plants—flowers, weeds, even trees. This is the worst place for her to sustain an injury.”
Injury?
My gaze flew over her body, scanning her pale purple dress for blood or any visible wounds. But I saw nothing—no visible wounds anywhere.
“Where is she injured?” I demanded as the captain hovered his hand over her body, slowly running it from her head to her feet.
He glanced up at me, his expression grim, and a pit formed in my gut. “I’m no healer, but I have a touch of healing magic. Most Spring fae do. She’s … It’s hard to explain. It’s like she’s … empty.”
Empty.
That didn’t sound good. I couldn’t bear what that might mean for Lorelei.
One by one, the soldiers brought over the potted plants they’d carried from the Spring Court, setting them around their princess. Captain Lace gently removed the plants from their pots, spreading the rich soil across her hands, legs, and chest.
Lorelei lay on the ground, her body covered in dirt and vegetation.
It was strange to watch, but I reminded myself that she was a Spring fae. She must need the life of her court to heal.
“Now what?” I asked.
The captain stared at Lorelei, his brow furrowed in concern. It was as though he expected something to happen—but it didn’t.
I was about to repeat my question when I noticed the purple flowers in her right hand begin to shrivel.
I gasped at the same time Captain Lace let out a sigh of relief.
The flower withered completely, and then the one in her left hand followed.
One moment, the flowers were vibrant and colorful in the firelight. The next, they crumbled into powdered ash.
