What the hell? Didn’t I just think that five minutes ago? Sure enough. The shale slides underfoot. Part of the bluff above has broken away from the left side of the trail.
Paul waves us closer. “This isn’t any fae-made trail. This is used by game, but look at the size of these prints. I don’t recognize anything earthly making these marks.”
I stare intently, trying to match the prints with animals I’ve seen in Faery. The prints are cloven hooves, horse-sized with what looks like human toes. “Faery is filled with strange things. I don’t think we should stop. Can we climb over the fallen rocks?”
Riley sends two men up ahead to scout the slide. He’s master and knows strategy better than anyone. I count on his military skills to keep us all together. It’s what he’s known for, celebrated even. He keeps bringing his men home time and time again, even when they’ve been resurrected. Sure hope he can keep his lucky roll going.
“This isn’t a mission I’m familiar with.” Riley pulls out a map, one of the items we discovered in our library excursion. “There are no advanced troops. No tactile allegiances. We’ll have to deal with adversity like we always have: head on.”
At this moment, hearing Riley’s concern, I take a good look around. He’s right in every way. We’re unprotected on all sides and blocked in. “We can’t stay here. I won’t risk anyone’s safety. Let’s see if we can clear the trail or go around it somehow,” I suggest.
The sky thunders again and the air grows thick with humidity as the daylight dims.
Faery has a strange troposphere, weather shifting at will. Above, the days rolling into night without a sunset, without a warning. The day is light, the night dark, but no moon or sun grazes the sky. I wave over a few guards, a sudden flutter in my stomach warning me to take cover. “Magus, Peter, can you two hunt for food. Gavin, can you gather firewood. The rest of you, clear the trail. I really don’t want to cut through the forest until we cross the river. And I think it’s about to rain, so I need a single temporary shelter to protect the book and bedrolls.”
The men go off.
I’m lucky they’re respectful and obedient. The last thing I need is a dispute in unfamiliar territory. I stumble forward, tripping over a root, but Riley’s beside me in an instant, tugging me against his body, lashing his arm around me so we are one. “You’re beat. I’ll get the lean-to ready.”
I give him a quick hug before easing myself from him. I don’t want to appear weakened when my enemies could be watching. This entire blockade could be staged. “You’re right. It’s been quite a day. I don’t want to put anybody else in jeopardy when I don’t have to. We all need to rest and eat, which we’ll do when we get to the river. Soon.”
The chill in the air bites at my neck, and I shiver. So far, I’m pleased we’re working as a team, and that Riley’s stepped back from making decisions for me. Luckily, Riley seems to be struggling and I take up helping him. The job isn’t much, but he makes me feel important. I hold a timber while Riley pounds it into the ground, staking the soil and giving the canvas a place to hang from while he secures the ends. “I’m going to help clear the path. It shouldn’t take long.”
I sit under the canvas, ignoring the strained muscles complaining in my legs.
Gavin returns with an armful of firewood and sets to work on creating a circular pit four feet from where I’m sitting. He’s is dark-haired and dark-eyed, solid and muscular. He reminds me of a cliché cowboy, walking with a bit of a bow-legged swagger.
“If it wasn’t for dark magic, none of us would be here in this shit-hole,” he mutters under his breath.
I shrink back into my tent, my feelings hurt by Gavin’s off-putting comment. I shouldn’t wish harm on him. I shouldn’t glare at the lighter that refuses to spark a flame. I shouldn’t wish for him to burn.
The lighter explodes and goes flying from his hand. “Shit.” He stabs me with a weighted glare, shaking his hands.
I scramble backward, pressing my back against the canvas as the tinder flames lack life and the warmth I need. I shake my head, horrified by my thoughts, by the consequences of them. “Are you okay? I—” I what? Caused the lighter to burst. “It must have been faulty.”
“I’m only here because of Riley. You’re the curse. You’ve led us to our deaths.”
“Take it back,” I order. “You’ve known me for a year. I’m good. I house you. I make sure you’re fed. I care about you.”
My words must reach him because he slaps his temples. “My Queen… It’s this place. It’s getting to me.” He drops the last of the tinder into a pile that lacks a hint of smoke. “It was an old lighter. It’s given me problems before…”
I have a moment where I suddenly feel energized. Am I feeding off Gavin’s pain, anger, frustration as he covertly targets me with blame?
Riley’s helping move boulders along with the others. I can’t just sit idle as my mind bends scenarios of destruction. I can’t risk hurting anyone else. We’re in this together. “I’ll find tinder and dry leaves before the rain hits.”
Gavin nods. “Stay close.”
The mood swings are not exclusive to me. I feel them in everyone and in every way. The weather. Gavin. One minute hating me, the next telling me to keep close. Riley’s men are extensions of him. Would it hurt if they concentrated on themselves once in a while, culling their fears?
I head toward an outcropping of trees. Under the branches, the top layer of leaves are crisp and dry, each one crackling as I stack them in my palm.
“What are you doing alone?” Riley grips my shoulder.
I stand, holding out leaves, red, golden, brown sticks of various lengths. But its Riley’s discerning expression that snags my attention. “I’m not eating poison apples. I’m gathering kindling. I don’t need permission to help when this is my mission.”
“It’s our mission.” Riley points his hand into the distance, not realizing he’s aiming directly at Nathan. “We don’t know what’s out here. We don’t know the dangers.”
“I doubt it’s Nathan. And Gavin has his eyes on me—” Only when I swing around, he’s AWOL.
A high-pitched whistle somewhere in the near distance with an animalistic resonance rips caution down my spine. Instinctively, I spring toward the camp, bumping against Riley who catches me mid-step. “I think you’re right. I need to stay closer. Whatever that was, I don’t want it swallowing me whole.”
Once I get to the lean-to, I squat near the fire pit and hand Gavin the stack, small twigs dropping from one hand, the leaves from the other. It’s not much, but he tosses a handful into the pile, hits the flint, and sparks fall into the kindling. After a few moments, white curls of smoke rise, drawing upward a burst of flame as he blows, feeding the flames.
I slide my gaze toward Riley, who won’t look at me. Great. I’ve pissed off the Master. I get that he’s cautious, though. He’s as irritated at the snail’s pace of our trip as I am on our first day. If we don’t get inside Cornwall by night after next, we could all end up dead.
The heat hits my legs, and I scoot closer to the rising flames, locking my focus on the orange scepter while rolling the amethyst between my fingers. What is your purpose? Why wouldn’t Elgrim acknowledge you as more than you are? Are you really keeping his family prisoner? I hold it out toward the light, letting the flames flicker against the facets.