Nothing came and when Cillian gripped my arm and pulled me behind the others, I let him lead me. Their pace was so rapid that the trees ahead of us were blurred. Cillian's arm slid around my lower back, the only thing keeping me from collapsing as he half dragged, half carried me forward.
It felt like hours had passed as we moved silently through the trees. The forest grew denser, snuffing out the sunlight filtering through the branches. My legs ached as I tried to keep up and my pink lace flats were ruined from the dirt. Thoughts of escape buzzed in my head along with images of my family, the way theday had started, and the brutal attack I'd witnessed. I still smelled the reek of blood and wondered if mine would be shed next.
Then I remembered what Torin and Cillian had said about my innocence. I was almost afraid to think in what context he had meant that comment.
Cillian's glance held a shadow of something more, was it concern? For a fleeting moment, I saw beyond the enigma, a crack in his composed facade revealing a depth of emotion, which ignited a flicker of hope in me, but he quickly masked the look when Fionn glanced over his shoulder.
"Make sure she keeps up," he said. "These human women are too slow."
Human women? Who the hell were they to demean me in such a way?
I glanced fearfully at Cillian, hoping to see my annoyance reflected on his face, but he kept his gaze on his two brothers. My chest tightened. I couldn’t tell if it was anger or panic or both. My brain was already spiralling too many thoughts, none of them useful. I was tempted to yank my trembling hand from his grip, but I knew it would not only be pointless, but such a reckless act could endanger me even further.
My brain screamed at me to do something. Logically I had to wait until I was certain I could get away before I stepped out of line because I didn't trust Fionn not to carry out his earlier threat and I feared what he might be capable of.
My breath grew shallow, my chest tightening. Then unexpectedly, I caught the scent of the forest. It was damp earth mixed with pine. It was fresh, familiar, and almost comforting.
Memories stirred within me. As a child, I’d imagined I’d stumbled into an enchanted forest, spinning tales of chase and rescue with mystical creatures. I’d stay until dusk, cheeks flushed, heart light, lost in the magic I’d made.
I used to believe that magic lived here. Now I know monsters did.
The forest was also my creative haven, a place where I loved to draw and paint the curious and recurring visions I'd experienced. Like half-remembered dreams, I spent many afternoons trying to recapture the shimmering motes of sunlight dancing through the air of each image. Even now, my creations of a magical universe with different worlds and dimensions graced the walls of my room and filled my sketchbook.
How had my sanctuary so quickly become my prison?
Tears stung my eyes. I wondered if I'd ever see my art again. I thought of my bedroom window, open to my mother's lush garden below. So often I heard her singing softly as she tended to her creations in the garden. The roses would be in full bloom, their heavenly fragrance wafting into the house like exotic perfume.
Those poignant memories were now threatened. These strange men might kill me, and all that would remain for those I loved would be my art. I wanted to cry, but I felt weak from exhaustion and could barely breathe.
I envisioned my mother's face and heard her voice in my mind, words she’d spoken after the scars made me a target at school, when I thought shame would swallow me whole:
“Hold your chin up, Tilly, my girl. You were born with wonder in your eyes and courage in your heart. Never forget who you are. Life may be tough but it’s still yours. And even in the worst moments, there’s always something worth fighting for. Something worth smiling for.”
Her words soothed me and eased my fear even of this dangerous situation. I blinked the tears angrily away. They might kill me, but they wouldn't break me. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of that.
Cillian turned to me. At this point, it wouldn't surprise me if he could read my mind, but then he would also know how frightened I was.
"Keep moving," he said, picking up his pace.
I tried to quicken my pace to show them that I wasn't some useless girl, but instead I tripped over a branch and went sprawling. Though Cillian's arm broke my fall and stopped me from hitting the ground hard, I was too exhausted to rise. I lay on the cushiony moss, panting for breath. Cillian pulled me up as though I were a child.
"Are you going to kill me?" I asked. “I don't understand what I've done to you."
"We've crossed worlds for a soul like yours," Cillian said, his voice carrying an undertone of sorrow. "It's not just your safety at stake, it's much bigger. If you bind correctly, there will be nothing to fear."
"What do you mean, bind?" I asked. Every answer they gave to my questions raised new ones. It was like trying to solve a riddle with half the clues missing. Why couldn't they just give a straight answer that I understood?
I mean, it was obvious that the brothers would have no problem finding a willing woman. They were all perfect, handsome, and they exuded an easy charm when they weren't threatening to kill me. What was so special about me?
Cillian simply smiled and placed his fingers on my lips. I tried and failed to hide the jolt of electricity his touch sent through me. Ahead, Fionn and Torin paused and motioned toward Cillian.
"We must hurry," Fionn said sternly.
"Carry her, if necessary, but we can't afford to waste any more time."
I shuddered at the hostility of his tone. Though the brothers seemed to be of similar age, Fionn was clearly in charge and, when he spoke, Torin and Cillian obeyed.
The landscape had changed. I realised that I was no longer in the familiar forest of my home. The sunlight cast odd colours against trees so vast that they vanished into the embrace of a violet sky. Ahead, I heard the sound of a train and the rushing sound of water.
