Cora felt the blood leave her face as she unfolded the paper. Once she’d smoothed it flat, she squinted at what she beheld. It was hard to make out at first, with the night so dark, but soon her eyes followed the lines of black that formed the sketch. It was a female face. Long hair. Lightly rounded jaw. Almond-shaped eyes.
The paper shook violently in her hands as she stared at her own face, the likeness as accurate as her reflection. Above her head, bold letters spelledWantedwhile the script below the portrait read:For the murders of Queen Linette and Princess Aveline. Reward: 500,000 goldsovas.
Sovaswere the highest form of currency on the continent. The sum was considered a fortune. Her eyes fell on what was written beneath that.Wanted alive and turned over to the crown.
Cora dropped the paper and lurched a step back. “Where did you get that?”
He picked it up and stuffed it back in his coat. “In Kubera. The signs were…everywhere.”
“Has anyone else…”
“I don’t know, Cora. If these signs are papered around the other villages, I suppose it’s only a matter of time.”
She took another step back, her heart racing. She felt as if the ground were about to swallow her up.
“It doesn’t matter,” Roije said, reaching for her. “I don’t believe what it says about you. There’s a chance the others won’t either.”
She wanted to take his word for it, but she could feel the weight of everything he left unsaid. They both knew the truth. Once word got out that she was wanted by the crown, she wouldn’t be allowed to stay. Sure, Salinda would defend her. Try to protect her. But what of the others? If the Forest People were so determined to stay out of royal affairs that they’d refuse to help captive fae creatures, then they’d certainly refuse to harbor a fugitive. Worse…what if they turned her in? It would go against the Forest People’s rules, but the likeness…it was too close. When she’d first been condemned for the crime, she’d been a twelve-year-old child. No one could have guessed her current appearance so accurately. Could someone in the commune be a spy? Could they have discovered Cora’s identity and…and…
A far more reasonable explanation came to her, one that filled her with the darkest shade of dread.
No one had spied on Cora. No one had run off telling her enemies of her appearance. For if they had, why not turn her in right away? Why not reveal where to find her? No, this was a matter of magic.
Dark magic.
A mage’s magic.
Duke Morkai could somehowseeher.
And if he could see her…
She glanced at Maiya and Gisele, almost at the edge of her vision. If he could see her, he could seethem. All of the Forest People. If he didn’t know their location yet, he soon could. She could handle the thought of being personally targeted by the duke. In fact, part of her relished the thought. Relished the prospect of getting her chance at revenge. What she could not tolerate was putting the Forest People at risk in turn. Suddenly, her fear over her own fate shifted to that of her friends. Of the few amongst the commune who’d become as close as family.
It wasn’t enough to avoid villages. To hope her identity wasn’t discovered.
Her throat burned, eyes prickling with unshed tears, even as she forced her heart to harden. To do what she knew she needed to do. “I have to go,” she said, voice strained.
“What do you mean?”
“You said it yourself, Roije. The Forest People don’t get involved in royal matters.That,” she pointed at his coat where he’d stuffed the Wanted poster, “shows just what a danger I am. What a danger I’ve always been.”
“It’s different with you,” he said. His voice held so much conviction she almost believed him. “Salinda—”
“Salinda deserves better. You all do. I can’t…I can’t endanger you.” She took another step back, then glanced at her two friends again. “Tell Maiya I’m sorry.”
Before he could say another word, she turned and ran.
* * *
The sun was just beginningto rise by the time she made it back to the hot spring caves. Progress had been slow in returning, as every step was haunted by the threat of hunters, not to mention the threat of hope. Every snap of a twig, every hoot of an owl sent her stomach into a roiling mess. Half of her was terrified she’d see one of the duke’s hunters, while the other part hoped Roije was just behind the next tree—that he’d tracked her, had come to stop her.
To take her back home.
To comfort.
To safety.
She shook the thought from her head as she took a tentative step inside the cave. The commune was never her home, she reminded herself, no matter how much she’d wanted it to be. She could never be truly welcome, not with a bounty on her head. She’d been naive enough to think her past was only a threat if she confessed her identity, or if someone else was clever enough to figure it out.
