“Hey, it’s okay,” Dorian coos at his new pet like it’s a spooked doe rather than the most efficient killer in the realm. “You’ll be able to swim easier with this body. I’ll show you.”
But he digs his heels in, hesitating only a second before hoisting himself back up into the grass and crouching. Sighing, I start following the poor thing’s lead. I already know full well how this is going to play out and I don’t want to waste more time out in the open on the argument.
“So they can’t swim. I for one was sad to see moats go out of style anyway. We’ll just tell Achlys to get to digging and her city will be safe without needing to rely on us.”
The changeling extends a hand to help me up, and the little bit of annoyance I was harboring at the thought of trudging around soaking wet dissipates in a puff of smoke. For being the monster under the bed fae-bies are terrified of, it has such an air of innocence clinging to it.
The deadliest things are the ones you underestimate, after all.
“Unless they eat a bird. Or cross the drawbridge as a person,” Dorian counters as we start traversing the open stretch of land, heading towards the cover of the trees.
We don’t run, not wanting anyone glancing our way from afar noting it as suspicious, but as a shiver snakes down my spine, I pick up my pace a little. The crawling sensation is too reminiscent of eyes on my back.
“Moat, dome net, and optometrist stationed as gate guard.” I tick them off on my fingers before holding them up to him with a grin. “Three things; that’s not so impossible. Not to brag, but I’m pretty good at this savior business. Might tackle world hunger next.”
He smiles, and despite the fact that we aren’t out of the woods yet, figuratively and literally, things seem to be moving in the right direction. Tossing his theory out about Elorie’s limitation of reach between the kingdoms, a tiny seed of cursed hope implants in my shriveled little heart, forcing through the callouses I’ve spent so many years covering it in to protect myself from exactly this. It’s such a fragile thing, hope, and often does far more damage than good.
It’s clear within a mile of walking that Dorian’s onto something. The land is nowhere near as rich as the shadow court’s, but it’s definitely got more spark than the kingdom I grew up in. The grass morphs into a dense swath of flowers in every color, bordering well-worn paths weaving between trunks. Even the trees seem stronger; taller and thicker. The canopy is so lush that it blocks out a good bit of the sun, leaving us in our own little world seemingly locked away from the far more brutal one beyond the branches.
Pausing, an idea starts to form and I crouch. Plucking several of the orange blooms, I gather as many as I can hold.
“What are you doing?” Dorian starts to help without waiting for an answer, turning his shirt into a pouch for us to fill up.
“We’re going to end up passing a village or another person sooner or later. Neither of us has any clue how to get to the shadow court from here without using a ring, and that’s just way too dangerous to risk no matter what kingdom we’re in. If there’s a bounty on our heads, then everyone in the vicinity will be watching theirs.”
Standing up with a groan, I hate to admit the next part of the plan, which admittedly, is a gamble in the first place. “There’s no point playing on their sympathies showing up as we are and hoping someone will take pity on us. Maybe not every light fae behaves like the ones I grew up surrounded by, but we’re close enough to that kingdom that I have to assume they won’t be as sweet as the ones in Achlys’ oasis either. We’re only going to have one shot at this, so I think we stand a better shot playing on their pride instead.”
He narrows his eyes in confusion, picking up on the hesitant lilt to my voice. “Go on.”
Exhaling a heavy breath, I shake out my hands, trying to psyche myself up. “You already look like hell, but your little buddy healed up the majority of my wounds. I need fresh ones.”
He balks and adamantly refuses like I knew he would. I never would ask Dorian to hit me. Not only would he never be able to bring himself to do it, but with everything we’ve both been through, it would wreck something deep inside him irrevocably.
Surviving this mess only matters if there’s any part of us left to save.
“I’d never ask that of you.” Palming his cheek, I press a soft, lingering kiss to his lips before pulling away before I lose my nerve. “I’m asking you not to watch.”
His face twists with something; anger, disappointment, and a million other things. So I forge on, watching his eyes flick to the changeling like he assumes I’m going to goad him into hitting me.
I’m many things, but stupid isn’t one of them. Not only are its hands tied by the deal the two of them made not to hurt me- at least, we’re assuming based on the broad terms- but it goes from zero to one hundred faster than I can blink. I don’t want my head torn off; I just need to look like someone got the jump on us.
“Trust me, not looking forward to this either. But I honestly think it’s our best chance right now. We need some actual food to eat and to figure out what direction we need to be heading. Otherwise we’re just going to walk around half starved until this guy-“ I hitch my thumb over my shoulder to the demon fae attempting to scale the tree without claws and getting pissed off “-snaps. We have to do something, even if it sucks and it’s hard.”
Dorian scrubs a hand over his face, looking like he’s aged years in a matter of a week. “Can’t you just glamour the injuries?”
Bending to pick up a rock, I head over to the low boulder peeking out between the flowers, a little ways away from the path. Sighing, I begin to pluck the petals off of the flower in my hand and form a pile on top of it. “Everything in our world is fake, remember?” He sits beside me, starting with the ones in his shirt. “Any fae that looks like shit isn’t going to walk around that way. They glamour themselves to project perfection, composure, and power. It’s a game that needs to be played just right.”
He sighs, his exhaustion settling heavily onto his shoulders. “I hate this.”
Pulverizing the petals with the rock, I start grinding them into a paste, whispering, “I know.” Swallowing, I try to keep my voice steady. “I don’t think I got a chance to thank you, by the way. For taking care of me.”
He keeps tossing petals into my growing slime. “Well, I couldn’t exactly leave you for dead. You’d never let me live it down.”
A soft, sad smile paints my lips. “Not just now. You always put me before yourself, and I both love and hate it. It’s nice to feel important, but I don’t want you to lose sight of your needs either.”
Scooping up the paste, I start coating my hair, adding a temporary dye over the shock of colors and working my fingers through. When I’m done with mine, I brush my hand quickly over his, simply adding orange tips to his blonde hair.
“You’ve been running on fumes for days. It’s my turn to handle the hard stuff for a little bit while you rest.”
