Unfortunately, there’s been no change for Caelum. He sits where we put him, stares at nothing, and doesn’t respond to his name or when I touch his shoulder. I check on him twice a day, crouching in front of him, searching for any flicker behind those empty eyes.
Vel and Therin don’t say anything. They don’t have to. We all know what will need to happen if this goes on much longer.
But … it’s Caelum. I want to give him time. I want to believe the magic threading back through us will reach him eventually, and pull him out of whatever deep place he’s drowning in.
I want a lot of things I’m not going to get.
“We need to start thinking about supplies.” Therin comes to a stop beside me, his shoulder brushing mine. “We have enough food for another week, maybe two, but after that we’ll need more, and we shouldn’t leave it until the last minute.”
“I know.” I scan the map, then tap one of the markings. “There’s a village here, maybe half a day from here. We could send a small party, glamoured to pass as human, and see what can be taken without drawing attention.” I pull my hand back. “But not yet. I want the camp to be stable before we start sending people out.”
He nods, then leans one hip against the table and folds his arms. “How long are we planning to stay here?”
It’s a question I’ve been turning over in my head since we arrived. The hollow is defensible, hidden, and close to fresh water. It’s strategically sound, but it’s also a dead end. There is nowhere to go from here except back the way we came.
“Until we know more about what the humans plan after discovering what we did at the Dell, we have no choice but to stay here.”
“I could scout around.”
“Not yet. I need you here.”
He doesn’t argue, shifting his weight to look out at the camp beyond my shelter. “Some are getting restless. The ones whose magic has returned faster. They want to do something.”
“They’ll get their?—”
Fear hits me, slamming down the connection. My vision doubles, splits, and then I’m somewhere else.
A hallway, with paintings of humans on the walls, their gilt frames catching lamplight.
Her fear is a living thing, crawling up my spine, while her heartbeat pounds in my ears. I take a second to separate her emotions from mine—hers, not mine.Hers—then focus.
Someone attacked her. I can feel the echo of it. Hands grabbing. A blade dragging down her arm, the edge parting skin in a line of fire. Words whispered against her ear, still repeating in her head.
Fae lover. This is your only warning.
She pushes off the wall and starts walking. Each step sends a pulse of pain up her arm, but she doesn’t stop or call for help. She just keeps moving, one foot in front of the other, until she’s back in her chambers, blood dripping from her fingers.
I watch as she cleans the wound, then I pull back.
The map swims back into focus. My hands are gripping the table, and Therin is demanding to know what’s wrong.
I blink and turn my head to look at him.
“This bond is a problem.”
A bloodlink is supposed to be one way, temporary, and controlled. This is none of those things. She saw through my eyes at the Dell, watching while I killed Cowen. And this is not the first time her emotions have bled through to me without warning.
I don’t know what I created when I mixed our blood. But it’s not what I intended.
“Cairn, talk to me.”
I hold up one hand, asking for silence while I think.
Someone in the palace wants the princess dead. Or at least frightened. Today, a cut and a warning. Tomorrow might be a blade between the ribs. And if she’s captured instead of killed … if they decide to interrogate her, or bring in a mage to dig through her mind …
If the humans discover this bond, they could use her totrace it back. To find me, and the fifty fae I just freed. She’s not an asset anymore. She’s a liability. One I created through my own desperation.
I have two options.
