Page 191 of A Legacy of the Light

“She’s human. And the prince wants her. His scent is all over her.” He pauses. “And she has the Craobh Beatha.”

Shock filters around the fire. Reyne breathes in sharply behind me and I stand tall, holding my head high.

“Fuck,” the female whispers.

“The prince saw me take them. We don’t have much time.”

“Yeah, we better fucking move then,” the male sat next to the woman adds.

Reyne and I are put in the back of a cart covered by a canopy, and our bound hands are secured between us as the rebels hurry to leave.

“The one who took us, Broderic, he was at the palace the night they attacked the city. I saw him in the courtyard.”

Reyne doesn’t respond to me, instead she whispers so low I have to strain to hear her. “Elsie, you have the Craobh?”

“Yes,” I reply softly, my head drooping. “I couldn’t tell you. It wasn’t safe. Only the king, Tavish, and Finneus knew I had it.”

“How?” she asks.

“It’s a long story, one I can’t explain right now. But I will, I promise. I’ll tell you everything.”

She threads her fingers through mine at our backs. “Okay.”

The rebels pack quickly and set a brutal pace through the forest, knowing that Tavish will be hunting for me. Reyne and I hold onto each other as we’re taken further and further away from Claver. Away from my chance to leave Elfayne and go home.

We ride all through the night and the next day, barely stopping to let the horses rest. Reyne and I are hauled into the forest to see to our needs with a rebel guard two feet away, the only privacy we are granted. I manage to pull the Craobh from around my neck and shove it into the cup of my bra. They cannot take it from me, but the risk feels too great.

Reyne punches one guard in the face in an attempt to break us free as we stop briefly that first day. After that, we are bound to a tree as we do our business to stop it happening again, making me glad I moved the pendant before she hatched her escape plan.

We’re given small amounts of food and water, enough to keep us alert but not enough that we could hope to survive if we somehow did get free and made a break for it.

We stop for a few hours at sundown the second day. The sense of urgency to get as far away as quickly as possible settles, but as night descends fully, we’re on the road again.

Reyne and I quietly agree to sleep in shifts, so that one of us is always on guard against the enemies we’re surrounded by. Not that it helps, as the rest I do manage to get is fitful and uncomfortable with only Reyne’s back to lean against. The bumps and jostles of the cart make it impossible to sleep properly.

As the sun slips behind the horizon of another grueling day, the cart pulls to a stop and the noise of a camp filters in.

The canvas of the cart is pulled back and Broderic climbs in to unbind us. In the fading sun, I make out more of his features. He is handsome, as most Seelie are, but his face possesses a hardness that makes him seem unapproachable and terrifying. He’s broad and well built. While not as tall as Tavish, he still towers over me and Reyne.

She clambers out of the cart first and I follow. I stretch my legs and observe the camp around me, logging as much detail as I can.

Row after row of tents are spread in neat lines as far as I can see. We’ve stopped at the very edge, and guards surround the perimeter, dressed in brown leather and faded silver armor. My brows furrow. The Dorche wore black armor in Claver.

“Take these to the holding tent and bind them tight. Red’s a slippery wee shite,” Broderic instructs the guard nearest to us.

The guard, still nursing a black eye, snarls in Reyne’s direction, making a taunting grin pull at her lips.

“I’m happy to give you a matching set,” she quips.

Another guard steps forward and the two of them lead us through the camp.

Seelie poke their heads from tents as we pass. Some glare at us angrily, others watch on in fear. But none of them wield shadows, and there’s no sign of the Brollachan. The camp seems almost peaceful.

We’re led to a tent separate from the others and surrounded by more guards. Inside, there is only a bucket in one corner and two wooden camp beds with thin blankets on top of them. A thick, heavy post sits in the center with two sets of chains attached to it.

The ropes on our wrists are swapped for the biting metal. We have a few feet of give to walk around, sleep, and use the bucket that serves as a toilet, but nothing more.

The guards make sure we are secure, and say nothing as they exit the tent.