“Ah, you can say that again. It made a lot of sense to my father. He was willing to sacrifice a lot for that bargain.”
“What happened, exactly?”
“King Taramon,” Lyria said, as if reminding me, assuming I’d understand. But I didn’t. I knew the small circles of our own court, but I wasn’t following news beyond that. Not the other courts, not politics between the lands, not the fae wars.
“I’m aware Taramon betrayed you and attacked the castle and that’s why we’re here, but…”
“Several kings were supposed to unite forces and attack the Fae Queen with Cantillion’s fae rebel group. There were at least four kings who were decided, already. My father, Taramon, and a couple of others. We were supposed to get sizeable backup and guidance from Cantillion’s rebels, and while the human armies would be holding the fae forces at the fae gates, Cantillion and his elite fae warriors would overthrow the fae queen. Then Cantillion would rule the Fae Kingdom, and after that, no more slaughtering of humans on country roads and in small villages…Truce.” The corners of Lyria’s lips curled with a minute smile. “It was a beautiful plan.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. But to Lyria, I was a chambermaid, no esteemed, diplomatic courtier; why should I have come up with some fancy, strategic reply to anything?
“In any case,” Lyria concluded, “if I seem harsh and hard at times, I’ll guarantee you that’s why. Blame the weeks in the Fae Kingdom. I dare anyone to spend a day there — a day — and come back soft.”
She met my eyes, and I must have looked questioning, because her sad eyes melted.
“Monsters,” she said softly, and turned to get up.
Chapter 10
The night fell foggy with a thick blanket of mist, and on top of the twilight of the night, it was hard to see much on the narrow mountain paths. Lyria kept walking a long way ahead of me and only occasionally seemed to remember me and paused to wait for me. I started truly wondering, when the night grew darker and the paths began to camouflage into the shadows, and Lyria still strode on like a gazelle. It was strange how she was like this, so slender and girly and almost ethereal, at least in my eyes, but by some miraculous magic, nothing would wear her out — and moments like this, I only had to wonder, what was her secret.
I kept hitting my toes to larger rocks and suchlike. We were on the mountainside, already, with steep slopes and cliffs. It wasn’t easy walking, anymore. Where the ground was all gravel and loose stones, it felt like I could trip and fall any moment. The moon, even, would not show itself in the persistent fog, so the darkness surrounded us like a soft veil. I had to slow down, watching my feet. Finally, I rolled my eyes by myself in the darkness.
“Lyria! Wait up!”
I heard her call out a reply a small distance away, but I could not see her.
“I can’t see a thing. Where are you? I can’t keep up.” Even I heard the frustration in my voice loud and clear.
“Oh! I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking…I can see despite the dark, and I’ve been all lost in thought, so I…Everything is so crazy right now. Come, Milla, let’s walk together.”
I made my way toward the direction where I’d heard her, feeling the ground before me so I didn’t accidentally stumble or hurt myself. Then she was there, right in front of me, putting an arm over my shoulders, gathering me to her.
“You can see in the dark?”
“My eyes,” she said, with a flippant hand gesture toward them, as if that explained everything. Perhaps to someone, it would have. I knew little about Fae Sight.
Truthfully, I wanted to ask if we couldn’t stop for the night and set up some kind of a camp, or perhaps just lay on the ground, huddle together to manage with the chilly breeze, and have an eyeful of sleep. It was all I could think about, even an eyeful of sleep. I was exhausted. The days had been so eventful, taxing, and stressful. But Lyria was right, we couldn’t afford to slow down, with the fae after us.
Also, if we didn’t put an end to the reign of the Fae Queen, a very grim world was awaiting each and every one of us, I was sure. That was all we had to think about, that’s what we should be focusing on right now, all else aside.
Lyria was equally quiet — and equally avoiding my eyes, now — as she took the lead, again clambering up the steep crags and hills ahead of me, but now staying at a few strides’ reach. I imagined she wanted to be alone with her thoughts, just as I did. We climbed on, silent.
Everything was painted over with the first glow of the sunset, when we finally made it to the top, the high grounds, where the castle buildings waited in a small valley hugged by more creases of rocky mountain. Lyria turned to me with a big wide grin. We needed no words.
This was Galandea. We’d made it.
Almost giddy, we found new energy to cross the distance to the plains where the castle sat. Moments ago, we’d been sullen and exhausted, now we had no trouble running and even teasing each other. Lyria touched me on the shoulder and said “Catch!”, as she dashed past me, and I sprinted after her, determined to catch her, and I did, so we tumbled down to roll in the grass, giggling. We couldn’t even stop, looking at each other and bursting out laughing again, and wiping our eyes. I thought, this is the royal convoy, scary, and so esteemed, huh…
When we finally got to our feet, I was still smiling. And as I followed Lyria towards the castle walls, I gaped at the high towers, higher even than at Castle Rua, at the ‘castle proper’ as Lyria liked to say. Admitted, she had told me the summer castle of Galandea was more defendable, more prepared to fight off intruders and enemies, than Castle Rua, but I hadn’t imagined this in my mind. The towers offered a very practical view over the peaks and onto the plains far down below, and the walls around the premises were high and sturdy.
As we crossed the final distance, I kept squinting, trying to see guards atop the walls, waiting for that moment when I could make out details enough to see the forms of men standing guard. I still quite couldn’t, when suddenly Lyria let out a blood-boiling yell. I walked past her, as she bowed over and pressed her hands to her thighs, so I immediately turned around to go back and see what was wrong. With closed eyes, she took long, deep breaths.
“What?” I went to fuss over her, tried to see her face.
“Take a look at those flags over there, above the castle towers? See that? Taramon’s colors…Taramon is already here. We’ve lost the castle.”
Chapter 11
We sat on the ground, our dresses and capes draped as tightly around as legs as possible, as the evening breeze was sharp. The sunset was beautiful, though. If only Taramon’s flag didn’t burn in our yes against the golden glow.
“I don’t think the high tower flag is a mistake,” Lyria said. Her flag was still left flying in the high tower, and we couldn’t accept it was a mistake. How could Taramon have forgotten it there, at one of the most prominent spots for a flag? That couldn’t be an accident.
“What do you think it is, then?” I said, scratching at the sand with the tip of my shoe.
“I think it’s meant to tell us something. I think it’s meant to tell us, some part of our court and castle is still there with Taramon. In fact, I believe Andre is there. I believe…” Again, the way she always did, she paused to look at me with the most open look in her chocolate-brown eyes which were always so fascinatingly tinted with the Fae lilac shades. With the sun’s glare over her, she was all pure molten gold, a goddess. I’d never known a woman I’d admired more. I hoped it didn’t show on my face. I had started avoiding her most inquisitive, closest stares.