Fade Page 2

  Grim climbed up in front of me and took the reins. Realtín excitedly flew around my head.

  “Farewell, Ivan,” Bekind said, stretching up to kiss his cheek.

  Ivan nodded and slipped back inside the building, still clearly delighted to be a part of the plan. Bekind turned into a cat and darted away from the inn.

  Grim took charge of the horse. “On, Dubh,” he commanded, slapping the reins.

  With a toss of his head, the horse trotted after Bekind. I looked back to see Ivan hanging out of a window, watching us leave.

  “Are we safe?” I asked Grim. Bekind didn’t speak as a cat, so there was no point in trying to talk to her.

  “We’re in the land of the fae,” Grim said. “We’re never safe.”

  Chapter Two

  We left the mud behind and cantered down a dusty path. Realtín flew high to get a better look in front of and behind us.

  “If so many fae have wings, then why don’t they all fly?” I asked as I watched the sprite soar.

  “Their wings are too weak to support their bodies,” Grim said. “A sprite’s wings are larger than her body and can’t be folded away. Some fae can hover, but many hide their wings in shame.”

  “I wouldn’t be ashamed of having wings.”

  “That’s because you didn’t grow up here. Wings exist mostly in the lower classes. It’s considered poor breeding. Royals, for example, don’t have wings.”

  “Drake does.”

  “The court will forget about that fact in time. He’ll either hide them or have them removed.”

  I shivered at the thought of his beautiful wings being sliced from his body.

  A thick forest lay on either side of us, and the winding road seemed to go on forever. My fear had subsided, but the ride gave me nothing to do but think of home and Drake and the fae I considered friends, as well as all of the things I would soon miss. I touched the necklaces around my neck: the butterfly locket that had been a gift from my mother and my brother’s medal. I wished I could see my mother again, but after everything, I had no idea what I would even say to her. I wasn’t sure how I would fit in back home after the things I had seen.

  Realtín grew tired of flying and landed on my head, gripping my hood tightly. I sometimes thought of her as a tiny glowing monkey.

  Bekind disappeared into the forest. Dubh kept trotting on the path, no matter how much we urged him to follow her.

  I yanked on the reins in frustration. “This is ridiculous. Why won’t he do as he’s told?”

  “He’s a faery horse,” Grim said. “You can’t ever trust a faery horse.”

  I laughed. “Don’t I know it?” I kissed the top of Grim’s head, amused by his embarrassment. “You can still leave, you know. There’s time.”

  He shook his head. “We can’t leave you now. You and Brendan and Drake are the only ones who have ever been good to us. Leaving you alone would be a disservice to all three of you.”

  “Even Drake?”

  The cat leapt from a high tree branch onto the ground in front of us, dramatically changing into the svelte blonde again. Dubh pulled up just in time, rearing a little to express his annoyance. I was definitely going to fall off before the journey ended.

  “I’ve found a place for us to rest a while,” Bekind said. “We’ll eat and sleep then move on before the sun comes up.”

  She walked into the forest. Dubh followed her.

  “Dubh, you little jerk,” I whispered.

  The horse whinnied. A little mockingly, I thought.

  “There are weapons hidden on the horse,” Grim said. “Make sure you learn each and every one, just in case.”

  In case of what, I wanted to ask, but I didn’t dare. He started pointing out the hidden compartments. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that there were weapons hidden about my body, too—even in my hair. I didn’t get to carry a sword because that would be conspicuous and the fae thought of me as a human weakling who couldn’t possibly defend herself with a real weapon. Or maybe I was just feeling grumpy. Either way, my best chance of survival probably involved a lot of running away.

  “You’re not paying attention,” Grim said. “This isn’t the human realm, Cara. Your hands will be bloodied before the end.”

  “It might not come to that.”

  “It will always come to that here.” He slid a dagger from the sheath at his waist and made slashing motions in the air. “If it comes to their death or yours, always make the right choice. There can be no hesitation, no emotional responses. If death is the only escape, then it must be your opponent’s.”

  “I’m not exactly used to holding knives and stabbing people,” I said.

  “Watch how I use my wrist,” he said as if I hadn’t spoken. “You need to be quick, to keep moving. Never linger.” He kept demonstrating, pinpointing places on his body that would be quick and easy for me to mark.

  “Stop trying to scare me,” I said at last.

  “If this scares you, then you’re in the wrong place. Turn back.”

  “I won’t,” I whispered, but he already knew that.

  We came to a clearing that was blocked from the wind by thick tree trunks and heavy branches. Dubh stopped walking and shook his head as if to tell us to get the hell off. Grim slipped down to the ground. I started to follow suit, but Bekind stopped me.

  “Careful,” she said. “You’re not used to this. It might hurt.”

  I shrugged off the warning and lifted my leg. Every inch of my skin burned. “Okay.” I sighed. “It hurts a bit.”

  Realtín giggled. That was a relief even though her amusement was at my expense. She had been far too quiet since we’d left Drake and the others. I slid awkwardly off the horse, helped by Bekind. I stumbled when I took a step. Dubh turned his head, gripped my hood with his teeth, and kept me on my feet.

  I patted him. “Maybe you’re not a jerk after all.” He sneezed in my face. “Wrong again.”

  Realtin sat on the horse’s neck and twisted his mane into braids. He shook his head to throw her off, but she clung tight.

  “There’s a stream close by.” Bekind unsaddled the horse. “Dubh will find his own way.”

  “But will he come back?” Grim asked.

  “He’ll return,” Bekind said. “We’ll be sheltered from wind and rain here for a time. Grim, build a fire. Realtín, help Cara prepare the food. I’ll set out a place for us to sleep.” She hesitated, looking at me. “There will be no privacy.”

  “Really? I was expecting a private suite and my own personal maid.” I made a face at her arched brow. “Just because Brendan wrapped me up in cotton wool doesn’t mean I can’t handle this, okay? I’m getting used to the way things are with the fae and—”

  “This is the fae realm,” she said urgently, gripping my wrists. “You’ll never truly understand everything you see here. This will be the worst time of your life, Cara. Not just the violence. There’s mental torture among the fae. We’re still in neutral territory, but that doesn’t mean it’s safe.”

  “Then prepare me. Tell me what’s in store for us, where we’re going, and what we’ll face.”

  She let go, her expression softening. “We won’t know what we’ll face until they’re breathing down our necks.”

  “But you can tell us where we’re going,” Grim said. “Do that at least.”

  “When we eat,” she said. “We’ll rest, and I’ll tell you the way we’ll go. Maybe then you’ll realise you don’t want to come with us, little brownie.” She clapped her hands. “We have work to do.”

  Grim and I unpacked the horse’s burdens together, carrying the bundles over to Bekind and Realtín.

  “Oh, look.” I pointed at a tiny tree growing in the shade of the larger ones. “Apples.” I swallowed hard as I approached the tree. At least the fruit wasn’t red. I never wanted to eat another red apple again after the little obsession I’d developed on my first night with the fae. But maybe the horse would like me better if I brought him some fruit. I picked
a fallen apple and held it out to Dubh. “Look, big scary horsey, a nice apple treat for you.”

  The horse snorted and turned away, slapping me in the face with his tail in the process.

  “Ouch! What was that for?”

  Dubh galloped away as if to escape from something. Realtín flew off the horse just before he left the clearing.

  I looked at the apple and dropped it in a hurry. “Is it not an apple? Is it poison or something? I’m not going to need to eat seven thousand of these again, am I? Did he know—?”

  “It’s an apple,” Bekind said, barely concealing her amusement. “He just doesn’t like them.”

  Realtín giggled, and I made a face at her. Grim found some sticks and began to build the fire.

  “Can’t you use magic?” I asked.

  “No!” He sounded horrified. “What a terrible waste of magic, Cara. Magic is finite. Only a fool uses it wherever he goes. Besides, it leaves a trace. We don’t want to be followed, remember? We’re taking this journey the hard way.”

  I took a half-hearted look through some of the bags. “Ivan packed some of that stew. I suppose we could heat that up while it’s still good.”

  Bekind finished laying the bedding and watched us prepare the food. She didn’t want to be with us, but she was desperate to come with me, even if I was useless. Then again, all she had done was roll out some blankets—not exactly rocket science. Grim was the only useful one.

  “Is it safe to climb these trees?” I asked. “I want to see how big this place is.”

  Grim stood. “I’ll help you. Bekind, watch the food.” He studied the closest trees and shook his head. “This way.”

  We walked around until he found the right tree. The branches were lower, but the tree wasn’t as tall as the others.

  “I won’t see a thing,” I said.

  “You’ll see enough. Come. Test the first branch.”

  He made me go slowly, testing for grips and footholds and weaker branches. I hadn’t climbed a tree in years, and I had never gone as carefully as Grim was insisting. He refused to let me go higher than halfway. Through the thick branches, I caught glimpses of an overwhelming stretch of trees, but that was about it.

  “The food is ready,” Realtín called as she flew after us.

  I gave up on climbing and returned to camp, followed by Grim and Realtín. We sat around the fire, and Grim poured the stew into cups. He shared his with Realtín because we didn’t have a cup small enough for her. The food was hot and filling.

  The growing darkness made me anxious. “Dubh still isn’t back.”

  “He’ll be back,” Bekind replied. “The night’s not over yet.” She gazed at Grim. “You wanted to know the journey.”

  “How about you tell me where we are first?” I asked. I was tired of wandering around aimlessly. I knew we were in the fae realm, but that was it.

  “These are the outskirts of the Great Forest,” Bekind said.

  “Where Brendan used to hunt?” I asked.

  “We’re far from the hunting grounds and the main roads,” she said. “It’s safe enough here, but some travellers may come by this way as soon as the celebrations are over. We’re taking a roundabout route, and that’s why we have to move on quickly. The simple plan is to navigate our way across neutral territory and into the Darkside. From there, we find a way through the Hollows and the marshlands. First, though, we need to make it past the Darksiders and beyond.”

  “What’s the Darkside?” I asked.

  “A part of the realm that’s been contaminated. It’s… different there. There’s a tear in the Fade. That’s why the darkness is so prevalent there. It’s been forgotten, but I remember.”

  “The darkness has spread across the land,” Grim added. “They say it corrupts the fae and will eat up the whole realm someday. I’ve never met a person who has travelled there and returned.”

  Bekind ignored him. “Once we’re inside the Fade, we have to find the bridge to the Wall of Spirits and hope that we can pull Brendan through. Of course, that’s provided we get past the shades and everything else on the way. And then we’ll have to find our way back, except this time, everything in the Fade and the Darkside will be after us.” The shadows made her eyes look black. “Are you certain you wish to take this journey, Grim and Realtín?”

  “They can turn back any time,” I said fervently, my face growing hot. Maybe it was my imagination, but the fire seemed to burn brighter than before.

  Grim collected the empty cups. “Bekind, you are the only one who isn’t in control of her destiny here. We are free fae, free to make our own choices. Our paths have always been taken through love rather than desperation. I know that’s hard for you to understand, but we will never leave you alone with Cara, so whatever you plan, forget about it now.”

  Realtín and I gaped at him in surprise. I had never heard his voice so harsh, never seen his head held as high. He had changed when he became a free fae, and I was glad of it.

  “I’m going to wash these in the stream.” His stern gaze never left Bekind. “You should all prepare for bed. It’s going to be a tough journey.” He walked away like a king.

  “Should somebody keep watch?” I asked.

  “Dubh will alert us to danger,” Bekind said, refusing to look at me. “Grim is right. We should sleep.”

  Realtín tugged my hair. I had thought of her as the strong one, but it was becoming obvious that Grim was supporting her.

  Preparing for bed consisted of lying down on a blanket. Bekind snuggled next to me as a cat, and Realtín and I stayed awake until Grim returned. Realtín kissed his nose before he doused the fire.

  ***

  Hearing my name, I sat up in the dark, blinking fast. The moon was out, an eerie, wide lilac orb that cast a strange glow on the clearing. Everyone else was still asleep. Silence reigned, not even a rustle through the trees.

  I started to lie back down when I heard the voice call my name again. Something familiar about the sound sent me to my feet in a hurry. I glanced back at my companions, but none stirred. Dubh would alert us to danger, Bekind had said.

  I felt safe and warm. No wind touched my skin. I heard the sound again. It was almost… almost like my mother’s voice. My breath hitched in my throat. How could it be? I had been trying so hard not to think of her, of the way we had left things. Even Zoe wouldn’t know why I wasn’t answering any calls. My phone was still in the bedroom of a human home cloaked with fae magic.

  “Cara…”

  Sure it was my mother, I ran, stumbling over the undergrowth until I came to a stream. Nobody was there. Of course, my mother wasn’t there. It was my imagination… my guilty conscience maybe.

  Sighing, I knelt beside the stream and dipped my fingertips in the water. I missed her, but the thought of seeing her again hurt. She had sent me away, but she didn’t know the truth I did. I understood more than ever why I needed to keep away from my family.

  Something in the ripples caught my attention. Planting both palms on the damp earth, I leaned over and gazed into the water. As the surface smoothed, I saw her—my mother’s face. She was mouthing something, looking panicked and hysterical, just like the last time I had seen her. I reached for her.

  The face turned monstrous. Snakes coiled out of her mouth. Her eyes bulged and popped with mucous.

  I jerked back, but a pale hand reached out from the water and caught hold of my wrist. An iron grip tugged me toward the water. I screamed and struggled, but the invisible hand pulled me farther and farther into the water until my face and upper body were entirely submerged. Eyes wide open, I saw the monstrous version of my mother’s face come closer, ready to end me with death’s kiss. I screamed again, and my mouth filled with water.

  Something yanked me backward, out of the water. A howl rose as the hand let go, and I tumbled onto the bank. I coughed out water and sucked in sharp breaths that hurt my lungs. Wet and shaking, I scrambled backward and looked over my shoulder. Dubh snorted at me.

 
“Shit,” I whispered.

  Slowly, I crept back to the stream and looked in, but there was nothing there. Dubh whinnied, making me jump. I moved back to the grass and sat there, panting. Every inch of my skin burned with horror, except for the ice-cold patch around my wrist that was stained with green finger marks.

  “You saved my life, Dubh,” I said, getting to my feet.

  The horse came closer and rested his head on my shoulder. I heard the frantic calls of my companions. Dubh whinnied loudly.

  I turned to him and gave him a quick hug before anyone could see. “I think you’re my favourite faery horse, Dubh. Of course, the last one tried to drown me.”

  He blew out through his nose and nuzzled my neck almost affectionately, then he nipped my shoulder. Grim, a black cat, and some streams of crazy red light burst through the trees.

  “I’m okay.” I looked down at my wet clothes. “Well, now I am. Dubh helped me.”

  “What are you doing out here?” Grim asked, sounding exasperated.

  The cat patted her paws in the shallow edge of the water before turning into a woman again. “She heard the siren call. There must be caves underneath here where they wait. The water really calls to you, Cara. You must be destined to drown some day.”

  I gaped at her. “What the hell, Bekind?”

  She blinked, surprised. “What?”

  “You don’t just…” I shook my head. “Oh, never mind.”

  “The siren lures you with your heart’s desire. So who did you hear or see?” she asked slyly.

  I narrowed my eyes. “My mother. Sorry to disappoint you.” I shivered, wrapping my arms around me.

  “She needs dry clothes,” Grim said, “and a hot drink before she catches a chill.”

  They hustled me back to camp. Grim worked on the fire while I went behind a tree and stripped out of my wet clothes. Bekind and Realtín did their best to help, but I was shivering too much to hurry. To my surprise, Ivan had packed a number of outfits.

  “What’s with all the clothes?” I asked a few minutes later as I sat beside the freshly burning fire with a cup of hot tea in my hands.

  Realtín hovered behind me, plaiting my wet hair. Most of it would probably end up matted, but she needed something to do when she worried.