Chapter 12
“It really is you,” the tall fae said. A statement, neutral enough. “And so I was told, but I had my doubts. So, you’re traveling here alone, with only one woman companion, why is that?”
“Sit down,” Lyria whispered to me, “I’ll talk to him.”
“Who are these people?”
“Well, Cantillion’s not among them, but these are his rebels, nevertheless. I recognize some familiar faces here.”
“Be careful. Things could have changed during the months you’ve last visited the Fae Kingdom…I’m just saying.”
She only gave me a smile as she hurried to her feet. I had to fight the urge to stop her, as Lyria brushed off her dress and gray woollen cape, her back straight like a warrior queen’s. Then she began walking toward the man holding the silver monster head. The man’s face was quite like any human man’s, even handsome. The difference was his dark purple eyes that glowed — even in the sunset glare, they burned distinctively lilac.
I gripped my necklace of spelling stones in my fist, ready to start spell-casting at the first sign of anything going wrong. When Lyria stopped in front of the fae, the fae said something to her, but in a less carrying voice, and I could hear neither. I felt jittery.
It was over in a handful of minutes, however. Lyria gathered her skirts, bowed, and turned slowly around, starting to come back, shuffling her feet in discreet steps at first, until she let her skirts drop from her hand and began to walk normally, with her head held high like a queen’s, as usual.
Once she was quite close, I rushed to her. Her face went ghostly, and she opened her mouth, shocked at me, but didn’t end up saying anything out loud. It was clear to me however, that around fae, I should have been aware of many rules of conduct which I knew nothing about. I looked over my shoulder to see the group dispersed. They too were leaving, going the opposite way.
“So?” I prompted in a whisper. Lyria was leading us back toward our makeshift camp. Her face looked pale and tense. “Lyria? What did he say?”
“He needs to check with Cantillion. He wants us to wait. Oh, and he wants us to do as he says…It’s all, sit like a dog, wait for your master…Cantillion’s my tutor. Never was my master,” she said with surprising vehemence. “I’m not even that much weaker than him.” Lyria turned to give me a slowly-awaking, victorious smile. “But Cantillion is around, close by. And Rayern promised to ask him about meeting us as soon as possible. So we should be seeing him soon, at least.”
“So he promised to talk to Cantillion?”
“Rayern. Yes. He’s Cantillion’s, well, you could say, leading commander. The commander of Cantillion’s elite warriors.”
I had to yelp out a laugh. “These were fae elite warriors? Seriously?”
Lyria nodded. I couldn’t believe it. She’d gone to talk to them like to anybody.
“Right…”
The blankets, which marked our camp, had been left somewhat trampled and tossed about, as we’d jumped to our feet like that, with the fae surprising us like that. While we straightened them up again, I stole glances at Lyria, wondering if she thought like me that the fae had interrupted something we both were aching to talk about. She seemed matter-of-fact, now. And the sky had turned blue, the evening falling fast, already. Crickets chittered somewhere in the grasses.
Oh, I did not mind sleeping here, under the stars, with crickets chittering and Lyria by my side. If only the situation wasn’t as sad as it was.
Chapter 13
I drove the stake still further into the ground and put my entire weight to it. It was no proper tent stake, it was just a crooked tree branch we’d cleaned up and sharpened, but it was doing a fairly good job holding up one side of our makeshift tent made out of our blankets. The other side was held up by a boulder that truly looked like a clunk of dried clay earth, as if the gods had broken it off the ground and placed it there for a lonely eternity. I was glad we’d decided to use the big blanket for a tent. It was nice to have actual cover, something to crawl into and hide.
“Oh, please stop working, Milla…Can you not sit down for a minute? You’re always working. You do not need to clean or arrange things. Please, just let it be. Pour yourself some wine, too?”
I’d never ever tasted wine. It was not for chambermaids. The castle had plenty brought in from the villages nearby, but it was only for the courtiers and better people. To me, it seemed surreal that Alesso would have had some in his things.
“You silly darling, how can you be like this, when I’m idling here drinking the wine? Come lie down and warm your feet by the fire, it’s really nice. We deserve a moment of peace in all this, don’t you think?”
I smiled at her. “Just a moment, I’ll just—”
“Oh, darling, stop! Nobody’s watching you, nobody’s watching…”
As she lay on her side on the folded blanket, her hair spread around her pretty, porcelain face like a crown, a much lovelier crown than any earthly, golden one could ever be. The fire from outside the tent door played on her features, as she shifted her position; it toyed with her, bouncing off her turning face, her lowering chin, her angling cheekbones. Lyria turned onto her back and raised her arms above her head, stretching out, looking like a cat on a clay stove.
“When did you first come to court?” she asked out of the blue. “Or were you born there?”
I was surprised by the question, but realized she was right to ask. I knew so much about her, likely a hundred times more than she could possibly know about me even now. I probably even knew tons more untrue rumors about her than she knew genuine facts about my mundane, ordinary life.
“I was born in Reams. A small village about a day’s journey by horse, from the castle—“
“Oh, I know Reams,” Lyria said defensively, as if scolding me for assuming she couldn’t know my beloved birthtown. But then, it was one of the cities under the reign of her fathers’ court…of her own court…It was her lands.
“Of course you do,” I said.
“How did you ever come to move to the court?”
“My mother was a kitchen maid. She was seventeen when she had me, and had no-one to support her, or rather, no-one that would do it, so she came to ask for work at the kitchen.”
“I’m so sorry. I hear so many stories…” Lyria trailed off, looking apologetic. “I’m so glad you did, Milla. Imagine if we’d never met.”
I smiled, though I daren’t smile much as I met her eyes again. Everything about her was accepting, welcoming, underlined warmth, as if in anticipation of anything bad I’d tell her. The fire’s glow glinted off her here and there, and that very moment, in my eyes she was silver and gold, rare jewelry, something too magical to look at, unless you wanted to break the enchantment.
I let the stake be and went to sit down on the blanket beside her. We now had two between us, as the big one was functioning as the tent. No more luxury of blanket for a rug; at night, we’d have to sleep in a blanket roll, so to speak.
“Do you ever feel lonely? And scared?” Lyria asked. In her eyes was a vulnerability I’d never thought I’d see. She was such a strong, composed person and never let anyone sway her in any way. “Let’s make an oath, Milla? A friendship pact! Let’s promise to always keep each other safe…What do you think?”