Strength Page 10

  “Not really...just fragments. I remember the ship splitting down the middle—us getting thrown into the water. I think maybe I was caught in something...”

  He trailed off, an uncertain emotion troubling his eyes.

  The princess understood completely. She remembered other things—sorting the arrows, rescuing the others below deck. But when she tried to think back to shipwreck itself, there was a massive gap in her memory—like someone had meticulously carved it right out of her brain.

  “I’ve never heard of Haith,” Ellanden continued suddenly. “The only one who might have is Seth, but he still hasn’t woken up. But I do know that this,” he glanced up at the blinding sun, “is nowhere near where we were. I don’t understand how we could have gotten here.”

  Or how we’re going to get back across that sea...

  Evie considered this for a moment, then decided to take charge of morale.

  “We’re lucky we washed up here,” she answered with a false sense of cheer. “These people seem friendly enough...even if they were a little enthusiastic with that rope.”

  “Lucky?” Ellanden laughed shortly. “Tell that to Asher.”

  All at once, the images came flooding back.

  How the witches had imprisoned him in that strange green light. How the rest of the beach had formed an impromptu lynch mob, dragging him off towards the sea.

  He was propped up on the other side of the wagon—strands of damp, sandy hair tangled across his face. His eyes were closed, but there didn’t appear to be any lasting damage from the spell.

  He and the princess were the only ones to have been tied with rope.

  “Here,” Ellanden murmured, as if reading her thoughts, “let me get that.”

  With a single hand, he worked the knots loose—tossing the rope over the side of the cart when he was finished. The drivers didn’t notice. Judging by their level of careless supervision, Evie doubted they would even care. She rubbed gingerly at her wrists, still staring at Asher.

  “I thought he was awake,” she whispered. “I remember seeing—”

  “He passed out after you did,” Ellanden interrupted softly. “Fell right back into the water, only this time the witches actually pulled him out.”

  “Why would they...?”

  She trailed off as another memory floated to the surface, one that was a bit more fire-and-brimstone than anything she’d had planned. A delayed jolt of astonishment swept over her as she stared down at her palms, suddenly understanding why the villagers had tied her hands.

  That was real? I actually did that?

  “Your little fire show on the beach saved his life.” Ellanden glanced down with the hint of a smile. “Mommy dearest would be proud.”

  She simply shook her head, at a loss for what to say. Perhaps Freya was right. Perhaps magic could only grow in times of great need. The moment she’d thought Asher was about to die?

  She didn’t think she’d ever needed it more.

  The wagon bumped again, tossing them against the wooden rails. There was some laughter from the front of the cart. Good-natured laughter, but the fae leaned back with a roll of his eyes.

  “That being said, I’ve had better accommodations.”

  She pursed her lips to hide a smile. Knowing the fae, she wasn’t sure what offended him more. That he was in a feed cart, or that he hadn’t been allowed to drive.

  “I talked with them a little,” he continued, stretching his legs stiffly in front of him. “They promised us food and medical attention. I’m not sure whether I believe them, but at this point I scarcely see the harm. We would have died if they’d left us on the beach.”

  Judging by the temperature alone, she couldn’t disagree. Little heat waves were shimmering above every surface of the wagon. The fruit crammed on the bottom layer was starting to rot.

  She nodded at the rest of them, and one in particular.

  “Should we try to get them up—”

  There was no need. No sooner had she spoken the words than the trees cleared suddenly and the wagon came to an abrupt stop. The donkey turned its head and immediately began eating the underbrush, while the drivers dismounted, circled round, and pulled open the back of the cart.

  “Hello again!”

  Evie stared back warily at the man she’d met on the beach. He was still smiling, it seemed his natural state, though it hardened a bit when he saw Ellanden’s arm wrapped around her waist.

  “This is your camp?” the fae asked, trying to see past him.

  Eli nodded slowly, glancing over his shoulder.

  “It’s nearby. We thought you might want to get cleaned up first. Get some of that fruit juice off your clothes before something out here mistakes you for lunch.”

  Evie glanced reflexively at her dress before staring out towards the trees.

  They were thicker than the ones she was used to—with narrow trunks, spindly branches, and wide balmy leaves. Nothing like the tall oaks and evergreens that surrounded the palace. The flowers were different, too; brighter colors, sharper smells. No doubt the animals had evolved to suit them.

  “Like what—” she started to ask, then caught herself. “Thank you.”

  Eli smiled again, gesturing to the road.

  “Thank you. We’re pretty hard up for entertainment around these parts.” His eyes twinkled as they swept over the cart. “And something tells me you’ve got quite a story to tell...”

  WHAT STARTED AS AN outdoor bath in a natural spring turned into an unintentional joke. The friends cleaned up as best they could—ducking their heads beneath the warm water and scrubbing vigorously at their clothes—but the second they toweled off they found themselves wet all over again. The humidity was so intense, clouds of steam hung heavy over the slick stone. It soaked their hair and dampened their skin, making it flat out impossible to keep anything dry.

  “You’re looking a great deal better,” Eli called from the shore. He’d been watching them with his partner, who’d yet to say a word. When he caught their silent stares, he amended the initial assessment. “At least you’re clean...”

  The others returned to their work, but Asher continued watching him—wringing out his shirt with a slight frown on his face. “What’s his name again?”

  “Eli,” the princess murmured, extracting a piece of driftwood from her hair. “He was the guy who found me on the beach.”

  The vampire glanced between them, then nodded in silence.

  There was much to discuss. Not the least of which was how in the world his girlfriend had managed to shoot liquid fire from her hands. But they would get to it in time. For now, the friends had more immediate concerns. Like where exactly that cart was taking them.

  “Are you nearly finished?” Eli called again, tapping his foot impatiently. “I suggested that you rinse off, there isn’t time to preen.”

  “Oh, he’s a darling,” Ellanden muttered, sloshing past them towards the shore.

  Evie laughed quietly, glancing back at Asher as she followed suit. “You coming?”

  “Yeah,” he answered quietly, his eyes still on their drivers. “Right behind you.”

  The vampire hadn’t said much since waking up in the back of the cart. Blame it on the lynch mob who’d tried drowning him fangs-first in the sea, but he was keeping mostly to himself.

  His eyes told a whole other story. Screaming silent warnings the others would never see.

  Together, the six friends trudged to shore and started following their cheerful guide as he led them on a winding trail through the dense trees.

  “It’s like hiking in a steam bath,” Cosette murmured, panting slightly as she hurried to keep up with the others. “I can’t believe it’s still winter.”

  Seth fell into step beside her, extracting a tiny snake that had fallen unnoticed into her hair.

  “The storm blew us far off course,” he said vaguely, though it sounded like he didn’t have any better recollection than they did themselves. “I’m sure we’ll find answers soon
enough. And in the meantime...who doesn’t like a steam bath?”

  The fae laughed in spite of herself, glancing up to meet his gaze. They stared for a moment, about to say more, when the witch pushed obliviously in between them, stomping through the ferns.

  “Screw the storm, I agree with Cosette.” She slapped the side of her neck, wondering if there were giant bugs in the world after all. “How can anyone live like this—”

  A second later, her question was answered. Because a second later, they reached the camp.

  Evie’s eyes widened as the path they were following abruptly ended, revealing a massive clearing cut into the very heart of the trees. It was extraordinary. A jungle oasis, hiding in plain sight.

  How did the villagers deal with the heat?

  They didn’t. They simply took off their clothes.

  Not all of them, of course. But enough to make the village a sight to behold. Instead of fabric, they wore intricately-woven bands of leather, carefully positioned to cover only what was necessary, while leaving everything else on full display. Some of the men wore pants, but nothing further. Some of the women were bedecked in little more than what Evie and the others wore to swim at the palace back home. Bright feathers and clawed jewelry adorned both men and women alike, and everyone—from the elders to the children—was strangers to the idea of shoes.

  There was no real structure, nothing more than a communal well and a scattering of straw-roofed huts. The entire thing looked more like a permanent campsite than a village—though the people who resided there had certainly made it a home. Those brightly-colored flowers that littered the forest were everywhere, sprouting from empty barrels and draped decoratively over doors. Little gardens had been planted behind some of the larger huts, and the grass in the center of the clearing had been cleared away to make room for what looked to be a massive fire-pit dug into the earth.

  The princess’ lips parted with a look of silent wonder. It was as if they’d stumbled upon some kind of ancient tribe, untouched by the modern world.

  But how is that possible, she thought, looking at the wide variety of creatures milling about in the tall grass. And why do so many different races live together, unless...

  Her eyes lit up in sudden understanding.

  They’re Kreo.

  Ellanden took an involuntary step forward, lips parting with surprise.

  “I’ve been here before,” he breathed. “Or at least, somewhere like it.” A group of shrieking children raced past, bringing a little smile to his face. “My gran had a place like this. I used to go there every summer.”

  Gran?

  It wasn’t like the fae to be so informal. In fact, the only time he spoke in such casual terms was when dealing with this side of his heritage—the side he’d chosen to repress.

  Most of the others knew better than to push things further. One of them did not.

  “Gran?” Seth repeated curiously, finding the term as jarring as the rest. “You come from a place like this?”

  It was impossible to hide the doubt in his voice, and the princess wasn’t sure if the fae would be offended. The fae wasn’t sure himself. He merely answered in a quiet voice.

  “My mother’s side.”

  “Of course...” Seth murmured, putting it together for the first time. A second later he lit up, staring around the village with sudden excitement. “Wait, but wouldn’t that make you—”

  “Quiet, shifter,” Ellanden said sharply. “Not another word.”

  Seth’s eyes cooled sarcastically, though the excitement remained.

  “Right, because you wouldn’t want any of these people to know you’re their—”

  Ellanden clamped a hand over his mouth, eyes burning. “No, I wouldn’t. I’m serious, Seth. Not a single word.”

  The shifter raised his eyebrows but held his tongue. At the same time, Eli detached from the man who’d driven beside him and doubled back to the group.

  “Wait here for a moment...I’ll send for you soon.”

  The friends watched in silence as he made his way through the camp.

  They were standing within the tree-line and had gone generally unnoticed. Life in the little village continued as it always had. Screaming children ran back and forth—playing war games with painted faces. Clusters of nymphs and witches lounged together along the edges of the clearing, weaving long pieces of grass into baskets and basking in the filtered sun.

  A strange assortment of people was gathered in the center—their heads bent together as they discussed something the rest of the camp was obviously not supposed to hear. Eli headed straight towards them, joining the tight-knit ring and muttering under his breath.

  There were several exclamations, several looks of surprise. At one point, Evie could have sworn she heard the word vampire.

  Asher took a step backwards, poised to run. He had not forgotten his first encounter with the angry mob. There would not be a second. The others tensed alongside him, ready to flee at a moment’s notice. But before any such drastic measures could be taken, a heavy-set dwarf in the center muttered a few choice words and the others roared in laughter. When they dispersed, they were still smiling. Eli appeared amongst them, waving the friends into camp.

  “We’ve been given approval,” Ellanden said with a touch of surprise. “They won’t harm us—the decision is set.”

  “Set by whom?” Freya asked excitedly, stretching on her toes for a better view.

  “That’s a very good question,” Seth murmured, looking far more cautious than the young witch. “Do they have a king or something?”

  Ellanden tensed ever so slightly.

  “They have a chief.”

  Evie and Asher exchanged a quick look, while Freya bounced eagerly between them.

  “How do you know which one he is?”

  The fae laughed humorlessly. “Trust me...we’ll know.”

  As he spoke, an old man detached from the others. There was nothing particularly regal about him, nothing that would distinguish him save his rather extraordinary age. Perhaps the only thing that gave it away was the confidence with which he walked towards them.

  And the dead bat plastered atop a driftwood crown.

  Yep—that looks about right.

  “Welcome, children!” He spread his arms wide, inadvertently mimicking the deceased animal mounted upon his brow. “I sent people to the beach for mangos, and look what they brought back instead. What a strange collection of travelers...”

  Us? Evie’s eyebrows lifted into her hair. You’re calling us strange?

  “The vampire was travelling with them.” An oily warlock who’d been there on the beach spoke up behind him. “We found him lying in the sand.”

  Asher stiffened involuntarily, positioned deliberately in the middle of his friends.

  “Yes, I can see that,” the chief said calmly, never breaking his gaze. He stared a long time at the young vampire, seeing things the others could not. “I met a civilized vampire once. He was something of an enigma, travelling from place to place, trying to unite in harmony what was left of his kind. In all my years, I’d never seen anything like it.”

  His gaze sharpened in sudden intensity.

  “In all my years, there was only ever the one.”

  Evie’s eyes flew to Asher, but the vampire was maintaining a careful calm. All his life, he’d lived in the shadow of his people’s reputation. Whatever look the chief was giving him, he’d seen it before. But the chief was giving him something else—an opportunity. He wasn’t going to waste it.

  In a move that forever won the princess’ respect, he offered his hand with a smile.

  “Now you’ve met two.”

  A hush fell over the camp as every creature living within the trees stared breathlessly at the two men. The silence went on loud and long, but Asher never faltered. He simply kept his hand between them—waiting for the chief to either accept it or not.

  At which point...we run.

  The old man stared at him a second more
, then he did the one thing less likely than shaking hands with a civilized vampire. He embraced him.

  “In that case...you are most welcome.”

  The friends let out a collective breath, as the warlock spat in the dirt behind him. Asher was visibly relieved, yet hyper-aware of the bat at the same time. He pulled away carefully, eyes flickering up to it while he fought to keep a smile on his face.

  “Thank you,” he murmured, uncomfortable with all the attention. “We didn’t mean to press your hospitality, my friends and I were shipwrecked at sea—”

  “And I’m sure that’s a fascinating tale,” the chief interrupted. “But you won’t be telling it now. Save it for tonight. We’re throwing a feast.”

  “A feast?” Evie blurted without thinking. “You really don’t have to—”

  “Nonsense.” The chief’s eyes twinkled as he looked them up and down. “It isn’t often we get visitors, let alone some who’ve washed up on our shores. A warm supper is the least we can do.”

  A ripple of excitement swept over the village as those close enough to have heard the proclamation quickly spread the news to the others.

  “In the meantime sleep, rest, gather your strength.” The chief’s voice softened as he gestured around the camp. “You’re safe now. No one will harm you.”

  The friends stared back in silence, waiting for the other shoe to drop. When nothing happened, they all began speaking at once—thanking him profusely as he sauntered away.

  “A feast, huh?” Seth gave the prince a pointed nudge. “They don’t seem so bad to me.”

  Ellanden ignored him, walking stiffly to the nearest vacant hut.

  The princess stared cautiously after him, but she couldn’t help but agree with Seth. Of all the welcomes they’d received over the last few weeks, a feast certainly ranked top of the list.

  Double or nothing, it’s going to be mangos.

  Chapter 9

  As it turned out, the Kreo settlement was a lot more expansive than it had originally seemed. Only a few central houses were in the grassy clearing, the rest of them were hidden in the trees.

  Not amongst the trees...but inside them.