They had emerged into the dawn, miles away from Karag Dûr. The mountain sprawled behind her bathed in the sunrise. The wind caressed her face, cool and gentle. It smelled of fresh rainfall, of pine and soil and freedom.
But she could stillfeelRune. Like the ghost of his hand on her waist. The touch of his breath at her nape.
The ring pulsated on her finger. And she swore she heard Rune’s roar beyond the mountain.
“Get rid of it,” Caelum instructed her. “He is tracking you through it.”
Before Alora could respond, he slid off the ring from her finger and tossed it away.
Her hand darted out to catch it on instinct, but the ring slipped through her fingers and vanished into a thorny bush. Something inside her oddly severed. But Alora forced herself to turn away. She had to leave it behind too.
Caelum took her hand before she could argue. “Come quickly! He’ll follow us if we linger.” They ran toward an open hill bathed in the dawn. “I had hoped the portal would have taken us further.”
“Portal?” She blinked, her chest heaving. “Is that what happened to the tree? How … how did I do that?”
She had sung on instinct, because her magic demanded it.
“You are a very special fae,” Caelum said, his eyes gleaming like she had never seen before. He brushed the loose curls from her face, stroking her cheek. “Powerful enough to tap into the Elder veins of pure magic that run through the earth. What you created…I have never seen such magic before. To turn a tree into a portal, it’s a wonder, Alora. I must see you do that again sometime.”
She moved away from his touch, the unusual familiarity leaving her comfortable.
Caelum glanced around once they reached the hill, his mouth quirking into a frown. “Ah, I think we have arrived on the other side of the mountain, miles away from the horses I left waiting.” His gaze flickered to her. “Unless…”
Alora’s heart pounded on a high, letting instinct take over rather than thought. And then without thinking, without planning, she reached for the wildflowers growing between the trees.
Her fingertips brushed the petals as she hummed and golden magic bloomed. Vines coiled together, shapes took form: legs, hooves, a mane of blossoms and twisting green. Two horses stepped free from the ground, whinnying softly, with bodies made of tree roots, mane of moss and clover, dotted with white flowers.
Alora stared at it, heart racing. The sight thrilled her … and frightened her.
Blessed Seven, how far did this magic go?
Caelum grinned. “Come, clever one. If we leave now, we may arrive at Gloam’s Watch by tomorrow evening.” He helped her mount the clover horse, then mounted on his own.
They rode west, quickly cutting across a vast open meadow. All shadows had been banished and scattered. Her hands shook as she gripped the reins made of vines. Now she was headed for a land where Rune could never touch her.
But she knew in her heart, it was not where she was meant to be.
“Caelum…” Alora called. He rode beside her, the sun gleaming in his brown hair, but his smile wavered when he met her gaze. “I can’t go with you to the United Crown …at least, not yet.”
He searched her eyes for a moment. “You need answers first.”
“I will find them in the Midlands.”
He nodded. “Then I’m coming with you.”
Alora smiled now, relieved he didn’t argue with her and that she had a friend to accompany her on this next chapter of her life. Because she knew, what Lady Zinnia would reveal would change everything.
She prodded the horse with her heels, and their mounts rode faster down the hill. Away from the mountain.
And away from Rune.
At the thought of him, his voice surfaced in her mind like smoke.
Fly as far away as you want, little bird. There is no place in this world where you can hide from me.
She shuddered, her heart racing. The Midlands was the one place that would keep him out. But she had until nightfall to reach it.
They reached the western foothills of Karag Dûrin the late afternoon, now weathered and wild, cloaked in fog and jagged pine. The road ended as they descended into unfamiliar terrain of jagged stones and dry grasslands. Alora kept her hood drawn low, the wind too sharp with autumn’s chill. Caelum rode ahead, scanning the horizon, his sword always within reach.
