Chapter 24
Dawn filtersthrough the windows of the safe house. Giles stokes the coals in the pit, bringing them to a low fire once more. But the sound of him clanking is distant and dulled. All I can seem to focus on is Davien’s soft breathing in the bunk above me.
My eyes open and close slowly, each time shorter than the last as I slowly wake in a dream-like haze. The fae used their magic to turn blankets and weeds into plush bedding that has transformed the wooden bunks into a bed as comfortable as what I had back in Dreamsong.
But I’m not distracted with wonder of their magic. That has become normal. What is definitely not normal are Davien’s words still echoing in my mind. They bounce off the memories of my parents that I’ve tried to pack away into neat little boxes that I never want to open.
Do you love her?
I do.
He loves me. I close my eyes with a wince. This is the pain I’ve been trying to shield myself from my whole life. It’s the start of the agony I watched my father endure for his love. Luckily, Davien is still working to spare us both. The sooner I’m gone, the sooner we’re both free.
When Shaye bounces from her bunk, I know it’s time to get moving. Davien has the same idea and he descends as I sit. At some point in the night he lost his shirt. Every bulging muscle I felt underneath his clothes is now on display. The gray dawn highlights them in streaks of light and shadow.
Our eyes meet as my gaze trails up his body. His lips part slightly. I wonder if he’s thinking of kissing me again. I wonder if his confession to Shaye has cast me in a new light, because I certainly see him differently. I’ve never been more painfully aware of his sheer presence—he assaults my senses, forcing them into submission to the point that he is all I’m able to focus on.
“Good morning.” His voice is husky from the night.
“Morning.” I break away while I can and swing my legs off the bed. “I’m going to check on the horses, make sure they’re good for the day.”
“You’re so dutiful. Thank you.” Giles smiles.
“It’s no problem.” I make my escape as fast as I did last night. I can’t look at Davien when he’s only half-dressed.
The forest is quiet. The motes of light that are usually fluttering about during the day are still bedded down. They drift upward with each step I take, some still hovering in the air, others returning to the mossy ground for what I presume is a few more hours of sleep.
I check the horses’ saddles and fetch them some fresh water. There’s a hard day’s ride again today. They should get hydrated while they can.
“I think I’m going to get a whole bunch of you when I go back to the human world,” I say to my mount, giving her a pat on the nose while Davien’s stallion drinks. “You’re much simpler than people, or fae.”
“But are they better conversation?”
The familiar voice has me frozen. I slowly turn to face the speaker. Sure enough, Allor is standing mere steps away from me, her shadowed form cut against the mist of morning.
“Depends on who I’m speaking to.” The curtness of my tone does little to hide my discomfort at her presence.
A smug, cat-like grin spreads across her mouth, as if my displeasure is supremely satisfying. “I hope you enjoy speaking to me. I bring good tidings.”
“Do you?”
“Yes, of course. I’m here to let you know that the king is collecting his forces for the attack on Dreamsong.”
“And how is that good?”
“His focus is on Dreamsong and not on you.” She sighs dramatically. “I really didn’t think I’d have to spell this out.”
Oh, she doesn’t. I’ve already picked up on what she’s trying to say. If King Boltov is drawing all his forces for an attack on Dreamsong, then what I think she wants me to assume is that he doesn’t have people who would come after us. But why wouldn’t she say as much outright if it were true?
“Do you think he will come and attack us?” I try and phrase my question as carefully as possible.
“I can’t presume to know what the king will do.”
“Guess.”
Allor tips her head to the side slightly. It’s a subtle quirk, one most might miss. I read it as annoyance.
“I’m just trying to figure out how much danger we might be in.” I lay my ruse on thick, trying to look as worried as I’m able to muster.
