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He banked again and flapped once, his mighty wings raising him just enough to get over the top of the wall, then they were out of Tournai and following the curve of the mountain out of sight from the city.
Harper shut her eyes and concentrated on not being sick.
Eventually, Brand slowed. The lights of Tournai were nowhere to be seen as he landed in a thick forest in the foothills.
“Where are we?” Harper asked as he set her down. For a few seconds, she stumbled as her cold, numb legs adjusted. She stretched and breathed a huge sigh of relief to have both her feet on solid ground again.
“North of Tournai. Why did he let us go, Harper?” The suspicion in his voice was clear.
“I don’t know. I don’t understand anything he does,” Harper said with an edge of hysteria. “I don’t understand who to trust anymore!”
Brand’s impassive expression softened. “The important thing is you’re free—and alive. Let’s go. We can figure it out later.”
The trees were tall, dark sentinels silently standing on the steep hills. Harper turned, holding her breath. Only the faintest trace of wildlife was audible on the breeze.
“It’s quiet here,” she murmured.
“Rather too quiet. Let’s go. We have a rendezvous point to make, and we cannot be delayed.”
“Can’t we fly there?” she asked as she scurried after him. She wasn’t overly keen on going back to the skies, but it would have been faster.
“No. We don’t want to be seen. The trees will give us better cover. Come now. The less talking, the better.”
They jogged through the forest until it was pitch black, then slowly picked their way through until they emerged from the edge of the trees where the moonlight lit their way better. It had been hours since they had parted company with Aedon, Ragnar, and Erika. Harper’s anxiety gnawed at her. Were they okay? There was no way to know.
When bulky, misshapen figures appeared between the trees, Harper slowed, her heart leaping into her mouth. She could take no more that day. Every part of her hurt, and she was so exhausted she felt as though she could drop with every step.
“Wait.” Brand’s command halted her. “Possible hostiles. Blade out. On your guard.”
Breathing raggedly, Harper did as he asked, a desperate sob building in her throat. If the king’s men had found them, they were as good as dead.
72
HARPER
When the three figures drew close enough to see, relief flooded Harper, a rush so vast her legs nearly buckled. Aedon, Erika, and Ragnar approached, each on horseback.
“Well met,” Brand said, as though they had stumbled on each other by chance on a relaxing summer stroll.
“Another job well done.” Aedon grinned. “Are you two all right?”
Harper grinned shakily. She hurt all over, and her nerves felt like they were frazzled beyond repair, but the bubble of relief consumed her. “Never better,” she bluffed. “How did you know that staircase was there? And your escape route? And where did you get horses?”
“Lucky hunch, bold guess, and I’m tired of walking.” Aedon shrugged.
Erika snorted. “Lucky hunch, my left arse cheek. It’s not the first time we’ve raided that henhouse, if you catch my drift. We always research all the entry and exit routes. You never know when you might need one.”
“Come now. We need to be far from here by dawn, then we can rest,” Brand chivvied them along. Ragnar yawned, but nodded.
They trekked through the night, with Harper on Aedon’s horse whilst he led them on foot with Brand. Harper was so weary, her eyes shut of their own accord, threatening to send her to sleep in the saddle. When they finally halted, she sank to the ground with a sigh of relief and promptly went to sleep.
The sun was high when she woke. Near the fire, Aedon sat chatting with Erika, who tended to her weapons. Ragnar was their silent companion, busy carving a twig with his knife. Brand flitted through the trees on the fringes of camp, no doubt keeping watch. Something warm bloomed in her to be with them again—and to be free, with the canopy of leaves and the sky above her.
For a long moment she simply laid there—still reeling from all that had passed. They now had the Kingsguard of Tournai and the elves of Tir-na-Alathea chasing them. Perhaps Dimitrius too, whatever his agenda entailed, because she did not entirely trust she was free of it. Harper shivered at the memory of him staring her down as they had parted for the last time.
Would any of them ever give up? Of the king and the wood elves, she doubted it. She did not yet know what to make of Dimitrius. She fleetingly wondered how many other enemies Aedon and his friends had made over the years before a pang of hunger wiped such thoughts from her mind. Harper sat up and stretched with a groan.
“Good morning,” said Aedon with a grin, though judging from the position of the sun, it was clearly afternoon.
