I nod, checking the cinch one more time.
“Where will you go?” Julienne asks.
I’ve been thinking about this since Sebastian left. I’ve traveled all over the deadlands, first with my father and then with Master Roland’s troupe. I know the settlements, the villages, the courts.
Not all of the settlements, but enough to have an idea of where to go.
“I’ll make for Ashgrove,” I say. “It’s a decent-sized town near the border of the Blood Court. Big enough that I can blend in and disappear. Small enough that I won’t draw too much attention. It’s about four-day ride from here.”
Julienne nods. “That’s a good choice. Keep your head down. Don’t use your magic again, unless absolutely necessary.”
“I know… I won’t.” My voice cracks.
She pulls me into an embrace. I cling to her for a moment, this woman who showed me kindness when she had no reason to.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Be safe,” she says.
I nod once, then I turn to Jack and put my foot in the stirrup to haul myself up. It takes three attempts before I get my leg over and actually pull myself up into the saddle.
“You’ll get the hang of it,” Julienne tells me, smiling.
It’s been years since I’ve ridden. I’m so rusty that my balance feels off, and my grip on the reins too tight.
“I hope so.” I smile back.
Jack shifts beneath me, sensing my uncertainty. I loosen my grip and try to relax.
“You’ll find your rhythm,” Julienne says. “Just give it time. Take it slow. You should ride south…” She points in the general direction. “Away from where the queen will make her entrance. You’ll have less chance of them running into you.”
“Alright.” I nod.
“Go,” she urges. “While you have the chance. Take it slow. Be very quiet, and keep your eyes peeled. Just because there are fewer guards doesn’t mean that there are none at all.”
“I will.”
I squeeze my legs gently. Jack starts forward, his gait smooth and even. We move past the cabin, into the trees.
I don’t look back.
The forest closes in around us as we ride. Jack picks his way carefully.
I focus on staying balanced. On moving with his rhythm instead of against it. Slowly, my body starts to remember. The rise and fall of his stride. The way to shift my weight in the saddle.
It’s not graceful, but it works.
We travel for an hour, maybe more. The sun climbs higher, warming the air. My thighs start to ache from gripping the saddle. My back protests from sitting in one position for so long.
But I don’t stop. I can’t.
I’m at the edge of the court. The deadlands are just up ahead, beyond the invisible dome that surrounds the court. First, I have to cross a rolling green pasture. Above me, the sky is a vibrant blue with the sun shining overhead, but beyond the dome, the sky is a muted gray that will soon turn dark.
I urge Jack into a steady lope that eats up the distance. We pass through the dome easily because of my fae blood. I still hold my breath, expecting to feel something, but I don’t. The temperature drops quickly.
The ground soon turns to muddy slop, but Jack doesn’t seem to notice.
I’m about to stop to don my coat when I hear a thundering of hooves and turn in my saddle. It’s a group of shadowfae guards, and they’re headed straight for me. My heart sinks.
