There was nothing here but a tree.
One with vast root systems that shuddered beneath the soil, stirring the top layer of dirt until not a footprint could be seen where once there’d been many. No longer was there a sign of the boy, the girl, and the small fae creature.
They’d never been there at all.
Just a tree.
A tree.
Only a tree.
The tree hardly acknowledged the men that stalked by. They prowled like wolves, eyes keen, but they found not what they sought. Nothing but a wood empty of everything but what should be there. The tree didn’t count in minutes or seconds, but time did pass. Soon—or maybe not so soon—the men passed too, shoulders slumped with disappointment of a catch not had.
Only then did the tree unravel.
Only then did one become two, and two separated into three.
32
Teryn didn’t know how many minutes had passed. All he knew was that he couldn’t look away from Cora. He’d only obeyed her order to close his eyes for a few moments before his eyelids flew open. At first, it had been out of panic, but as her face filled his vision, calm settled over him. They were so close he could count every one of Cora’s dark eyelashes, every freckle dancing over her nose. His hand felt warm on her back, and where they both held the unicorn, their arms touched. Anothernesshad surrounded them then, something Teryn wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to explain. He didn’t see it with his eyes or feel it with his senses. It was just there. The indescribable buzz of magic.
He hadn’t known what Cora was doing, had seen nothing to explain what made the hunters walk by without giving them a second glance. He’d only seenher. For one strange moment, he’d felt connected to her in a way that defied reason. He’d felt her heart thrum as his own. Felt her breath move through his lungs. It was unsettling and yet completely noninvasive. He’d welcomed it. Yearned for it.
But now theothernesswas beginning to fade with every breath. His pulse became his own, no longer entangled with Cora’s and the unicorn’s. He realized Cora’s eyes were open now too and were locked on his. Slowly, she pulled her hand away from the tree trunk, but still, they didn’t separate. She said something to him then, but his mind was too befuddled to comprehend it.
“What?”
“You’re still holding on to me,” she whispered, her voice unsteady.
He gulped, finding his tongue heavy as he searched for words. “You said not to let you go until you said so.”
“Oh.” A soft smile crossed her lips, a hint of a blush coloring her cheeks. “You can let me go now.”
He held on a beat longer, then slowly slid his hand from around her waist. The baby unicorn, who’d grown surprisingly calm in the wake of such strange events, was all that connected them.
“I can carry her,” Teryn said. “I think it’s safe to say she feels comfortable enough with me now.”
“All right.” Teryn was surprised she didn’t argue. She slipped her arm from the unicorn and stepped away. Teryn felt oddly cold. Empty. Whatever had happened at the tree…it had severely messed with his mind.
He wasn’t even sure why he’d done what she’d told him to. He could have waited until the perfect moment and shoved her before the hunters—if that was even who those men had been. He’d been too focused on Cora when the figures had walked by, but when he’d first heard the hunting horns, he’d known his plan had worked. His father had sent word to King Dimetreus. The king knew they were heading to this camp next, knew Cora would try to rescue the unicorns. Because that was what Teryn’s letter to his father had said.
I’ll bring her to the Cambron Pass camp in exchange for her bounty.
He’d suspected his plan had worked as soon as he and Cora had stalked the camp and found only a young boy guarding it. Terror had surged through him then, even though he should have been pleased. He should have wanted his plan to come to fruition, right?
After that, he’d expected an ambush at any moment. It hadn’t come. Part of him had hoped—as nonsensical as the hope was—that maybe his letter hadn’t reached the king. Or perhaps it hadn’t been taken seriously, or the king hadn’t been prepared to react on such short notice. Relief had washed over him as they’d freed the unicorns, but it all fled the moment he’d heard the horns.
And now…
Now he didn’t know what to think. He’d allowed Cora to hide them. Hadwantedher to hide them. Even with his mind growing sharper, clearer, he had no desire to shout, to call back the hunters, to turn her in.
“We must go,” Cora said and started off with caution.
If he took one step away from the camp, he knew what he was leaving behind.
500,000sovas. Enough to save his kingdom.
All he had to do was turn in a wanted murderer.
