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My heart beats a frantic rhythm as Meera bunches under me and takes a flying leap over a shallow ditch. We come down smoothly on the other side, her mane tickling my cheek as I lean low over her neck, encouraging her on.
I’ve been testing the waters with how far I can take her without drawing suspicion. I know Thieran watches me. I feel his heavy gaze all the time, raising goosebumps over my skin.
Usually the watching ends with my clothes half off and his cock inside me. And I’ve started to mind it less and less, but it’s a distraction. Time away from the work I should be doing to move my escape plan further along.
I managed to collect all the ingredients I needed for the shielding ritual, and it’s been curing in the back of my wardrobe for about a week now. With only one left to go, I’ve been desperate to find a way to test my theory about the wards. An impossible task with Thieran’s eyes on me all the time.
Testing the wards around the palace isn’t an option, anyway. So I started taking Meera further than I normally would on our daily rides. First just a little ways beyond the field behind the farmhouse. Then a little further, pushing the boundary of what Thieran expects of me.
Until one day we went far enough that I felt the first prickling of energy raise the hair on my arms. Thieran’s wards, meant to keep me from riding Meera too far. Either he gave me a generous area to start with, or he’s widened it in the weeks since bringing Meera here.
Whatever the answer, I’m in luck, because the first edges of the wards in this part of the realm are buried in a grove of trees, out of sight of the farmhouse and other prying eyes.
Thieran can sense my location across the realm. It’s how he found me in Videva, trading a shawl from my wardrobe for the last of the ingredients I needed for what I’m attempting today. But he admitted he can’t physically see me or what I’m doing. A relief, considering he would absolutely put a stop to it if he had even the slightest idea.
Slowing Meera to a walk, I guide her a few more paces inside the protection of the trees and stop. Dropping to the ground, I loop her reins loosely around a low-hanging branch and flip open the saddlebag.
Under the apples I’ve brought as a bribe in case this takes longer than I’m anticipating and an extra blanket are the ingredients I’ve been painstakingly collecting since I found the last piece of the puzzle. Hiding away in a little book tucked at the end of the top shelf of a bookcase in the library’s northwest corner.
This book was older than all the others, written in a faded looping script that reminded me of decades long past. It looked more like a private journal than a book written by one of Acaria’s historians. The words inside were a treasure trove of information, combining all my theories into a single ritual meant to temporarily dissolve a god’s power.
The pages spoke of dissolving bindings in the event a god was holding the wearer prisoner. The wards aren’t ropes around my wrists, but they’re no less real a binding.
Glancing around to make doubly sure I’m alone, I pull out my prizes. Salt to protect, vervain to purify, lavender to blind those who would try to see, mugwort to open, and mint to bind. Setting the bundles gently on the ground near the barrier, I go back for the candles—one black and one white, to represent the light and the dark—and some twine. And last, the pretty copper bowl.
I carry it all to the edge of the ward and drop to my knees. Meera paws the ground behind me when I reach up and press my palm flat to the invisible wall preventing my escape.
Ignoring her, I dig the instructions I’ve scribbled down out of my pocket and smooth them over my thigh. Then I sprinkle a ring of salt around the candles and the bowl, followed by a ring of vervain. I add equal amounts of each ingredient to the copper bowl and stir clockwise nine times. Three times three.
A shiver races down my spine, chilling me to the bone. I glance over my shoulder, but all I see is Meera standing there watching me. Her ears are flat against her head like they were the day I ventured into the forest and set this whole thing in motion.
But I have to try. I haven’t come this far only to give up when I’m so close.
Turning back to my work, I light first the black candle and then the white one, dripping wax from each into the bowl. When the waxes collide, shallow sparks fly into the air and spiral around each other before disappearing. I blink, unsure if that’s a good sign or not.
Setting the white candle on the ground directly across from the black one, I tie a bit of rough twine around them and tear off the slip of parchment with my intentions on it. Freedom, the life I desire, the ability to make my own choices.
The flames dance as the candles burn down, and I hold my breath. I have to wait until the twine catches fire and burns into the bowl. Once it does, I’ll toss the parchment with my intentions into the fire and repeat them over and over until the flames extinguish.
Then I’m to throw the ashes at the barrier. According to the book I found, it should cleave through the barrier and leave a hole. I don’t know how big the hole will be; if it’s not big enough to fit Meera through, then I’ll need a whole lot more herbs. But before I get ahead of myself, I have to make sure it actually works first.
The twine catches, the flames eating up the thin rope until it disentangles from them and drops into the bowl. The dried herbs ignite with a pop and a hiss, and I toss the parchment in, adding fuel to the fire and sending the flames leaping into the air.
I watch, mesmerized, lips moving rapidly as I recite my intentions. Freedom, the life I desire, the ability to make my own choices. It feels like hours, but I’m certain it’s only minutes before the fire finally burns itself out.
I reach for the bowl, realizing a moment too late that I should be cautious, only to discover the bowl is cool to the touch where it should be warm. Another chill wends through me. As I rise and make my way to the barrier, I can’t help but feel like I’m dealing with something I can’t possibly understand.
The wind picks up, singing through the leaves and teasing the end of my braid. I lift the bowl to toss the mixture against the ward, but my fingers tighten on the copper, and I freeze.
An unexpected stab of guilt makes my stomach clench and my heart pound.
Life in the Shadow Realm has been the easiest I’ve ever known. I’ve never lived so well as I have these last few weeks. It would be easy to stay. To continue to enjoy the comforts I’ve become accustomed to in so short a time.
But none of it’s real. Not really. It’s all an illusion meant to draw me in and keep me compliant. I might give Thieran my body when it suits me, but the rest of me is mine. And I deserve to make my own choices.
Taking a deep breath, I toss the burned herbs at the barrier. At first it appears only to make contact and slide down to the earth. But in the span of a breath, the barrier begins to flicker and ripple. And where nothing stood before, it’s now like I’m looking at the grass and trees beyond through smoke, hazy and unclear.
I reach out, fingertips dancing along the edge of the barrier where it’s still invisible to the eye, but when I hit the smoky, unfocused air, my hand dips through. Just like it did the night I escaped. But unlike Thieran’s tricks, this was my doing.
