The words turn my stomach. I should probably be more literal. “Will you kick the bars of the cage with your hooves, but be careful not to kick me? When the bars break and I am free from the cage, will you carry me somewhere—to someone—specific?”
“Who would you have me take you to?”
“Take me to King Aspen directly, as fast as you can. Go only routes that are safe for a human to travel. If we must travel by water, keep my head above it at all times. If we travel by land, move as fast as you can.”
“I could take you to King Aspen.” He says it more like he’s considering it than agreeing to it. He studies me, likely poring over my words. Now that I know better, I expect the part of the bargain he doesn’t say. He will take me to King Aspen. Then he’ll continue on to the nearest body of water to drown me. With his mane wrapped around my hands, I won’t be able to stop it.
To hurry his resolve, I add, “After that, you can go anywhere you like.”
“I will,” he finally says. He turns around, rear facing me. I move to the far end of the cage and shield my face with my arms. The kelpie sends a sharp hoof into the coral bars, then another. After a third kick, the coral splinters and shatters, leaving a large opening near the bottom of the floor. I take a deep breath and swim through it. A shard of coral scrapes against my arm. Another grazes my ankle as I push myself off the floor. Broken bars from the cage float by, drifting in the current. My fingers clasp around one, and I don’t let it go, not even as I mount the kelpie.
With my free hand, I grab his mane, and the kelpie swims forward with a speed his heavily muscled body shouldn’t be capable of. True to his word, the kelpie keeps my head above water as we navigate the twisting, turning caves. Waves still crash over my face as water funnels inside, but I manage to keep my lungs clear. Finally, the tunnel floors incline slightly, and light shines up ahead. The kelpie gallops toward it. To freedom. To fresh air and open sky.
Freed from the coral caves, I’m faced with a familiar sight. The shore beneath the palace stretches before us, nearly swallowed by the tide. The last blush of sunset peeks over the horizon, sending the beach under a pink-orange glow. With a jolt, the kelpie takes off along the shore, away from the palace toward the jagged rocks. My heart leaps into my throat as it seems like the creature intends to dash us directly into them, but in a single leap, he crests the top of the nearest rock, then leaps to another, then another, more like a goat than a horse-creature.
Once clear of the rocks, another stretch of shore spreads before us. But the kelpie veers away from it and into the water instead. With a splash, he goes under, but the water only reaches my chin. If I thought the kelpie was fast on land, he is a streak of lightning in the open sea. In mere minutes the shore and the palace are nowhere to be seen.
The water is colder the farther we get from the shore, making my teeth chatter. Anxiety fights to overwhelm me, and I wonder if I left too much room in my bargain with the kelpie. Surely, taking us this far out to sea can’t be the fastest way to reach Aspen. All I can do is breathe, persist. Trust the fae creature is taking me where I need to go and try not to die in the process.
* * *
The sky is dark by the time I next see land. It’s nothing but a black shape on the horizon, growing larger as the kelpie speeds toward it. Cool night air greets me as we emerge from the sea and into the dark forest beyond the shore. I lost my cloak sometime during the swim, leaving my sodden blouse clinging to my skin, uncomfortably cold and heavy. My breaths grow shallow, coming out in ragged gasps.Hang on, Evie,I tell myself.You just have to find Aspen.
My head begins to spin, blood leaving my face as my eyes grow heavy. I bite the inside of my cheek to maintain consciousness.Not now. Not now. Just keep going.
Painful minutes drag on. Based on our surroundings, we still appear to be in Faerwyvae, although I swear numerous seasons have passed us by. A sprinkle of snow, bathing the night in blinding white. Autumn leaves and a reddish glow. A dense heat I’ve never felt before. To the left, a blanket of fog covers everything, but I think I can make out a few towering stones of the faewall here and there. Finally, the warm air cools. Flowers grow in clusters, their petals taking to the wind in the kelpie’s wake.
“Your king,” comes the ethereal voice.
This snaps me to attention. I lean forward, seeking any sign of Aspen. There, coming toward us in the distance is an enormous silhouette. A stag. Aspen.Like Cobalt, Aspen’s appearance has shifted drastically. However, there’s nothing human about the king as his stag hooves tear the earth beneath him. It’s a chilling sight.
The distance is closing between him and the kelpie too fast, but my limbs won’t move. The kelpie’s mane has grown so tight over my hand, I’ve lost all feeling in the arm. The other hand feels dull and heavy from the cold.
We’re close enough now, I can see Aspen’s breath puffing in clouds from his stag nostrils.
“I brought you to your king,” the kelpie says. I know what will happen next. He’ll veer away, back toward the ocean or some nearby lake.
With a grunt, I lift my arm, fingers still wrapped around the branch of coral I stole from the cave. I swing it into the kelpie’s mane, severing the black strands until my hand is released. No longer tethered to the creature, the kelpie’s speed knocks me backward. I tumble to the ground, rolling. The kelpie speeds off into the night. I turn the opposite direction, seeking the stag. He’s growing dangerously closer.
I stumble to my feet, every muscle screaming in protest. “Aspen!”
He continues forward, showing no sign of slowing.
I hold out my hand, palm streaked shades of purple and red where the kelpie’s mane strangled my flesh. “Aspen, stop!”
He closes the distance, eyes wild with fury.
“It’s me. Evie.”
The stag snorts, mouth lathering. He’ll be upon me in a matter of seconds, and I’m too weak to move. Tears pour down my cheeks. I’m too late. He doesn’t know me. He’s become the monster I always thought him to be.
“Aspen, I give you my true name!”
His hooves dig into the earth, and dirt sprays over me as he skids to a halt.
My shoulders are racked with tremors. The stag has stopped mere feet away, teeth bared, muscles quivering. He stomps and paws the earth, head down, antlers pointed toward me.
“Aspen,” I whisper. “Did you hear me? I’m here. I came for you.”
