Page 130 of Flirting with Darkness

As I adjusted my pack and started north, no vines tried to grab my feet, no fae monsters leapt out to attack; there was only me and the spring day.

With each step, clouds gathered overhead. By twenty yards, snow began to fall, thick and white.

I pulled my cloak closer, fingering the oak leaves embroidered down the front. Ari had sewn it, whispering magic into the stitches. And as I walked on, huge flakes of snow flecking the green wool and melting in my strawberry blond hair, I didn’t feel the cold. She’d spelled it with warmth.

“Bad luck, Elfhame. You’re going to have to do better than a bit of snow to keep me out.”

Honestly? I wasn’t sure anything could keep me away. Not when Ari needed me.

I pulled up my hood, smiled into the breeze, and pretended the white dusting on the ground was flour, just like at home.

Ma and Pa would’ve realised I was gone hours ago, when I didn’t show up to help finish the morning’s loaves and cakes and open the shop. They’d struggle wrangling my twelve brothers and sisters without me; it left a bitter taste in my mouth as I crunched through the fresh snow.

But I’d let that fae bastard take Ari, and that was a far, far worse flavour on my tongue. Sour and acidic like bile, burning even when I took a sip of water from my canteen.

I was the strong one: I looked afterher. But at the stone circle, she’d looked up at me, and I’d been the one crying while she’d held back, jaw tight as her eyes gleamed with unshed tears. She’d protected me, even as she’d been stolen from us.

And I’d let her down.

I squared my shoulders and lengthened my stride.

“I’m coming for you, Ari. Just hold on.”

* * *

I walked.

And walked.

And walked.

I hummed and sang little songs to myself as the afternoon sun passed overhead. Truth be told, Elfhame didn’t seem as frightening as the stories made out. Great trees stretched high above, and I used the moss on them to keep myself on track, always aiming north. No paths or roads cut through the land, so I was grateful for nature pointing the way.

Admittedly, “the way” suggested a more concrete plan than the one I actually had.

And maybe “plan” was overstating it.

Quickest would be finding Ari and the fae lord who’d taken her. He’d magicked her away, but for all I knew, he’d only taken her just the other side of the wall. But I hadn’t found any tracks in the snow. Though the fresh fall would’ve covered any tracks anyway. Great.

Which left planB. If I could find a town, I’d be able to ask the locals. There couldn’t bethatmany humans in Elfhame nor fae lords who were bound to take the Tithe from one of our towns. Even if they didn’t know, they’d be able to point me to their capital city somewhere in the north. The fae had said he’d come by order of the Night Queen, so they would know of him there.

Not much of a plan, but it was the only one I had.

Sunset splayed across the sky in such a glorious display of gold and pink, I almost forgot what it meant.

Night.

Although Elfhame in the daytime seemed pleasant enough, I wasn’t fool enough to think it would be safe at night. Even the woods around Briarbridge were off limits after dark, with wolves and bears and, on the new moon, the Wild Hunt haunting the game trails.

I also wasn’t fool enough to think a tent and fire would keep me safe from whatever dangers came out here after sunset. Most likely a fire would attract more attention that it scared off. So, I climbed a tree and fastened the tent between its branches to keep off any rain that might come in the night—or more snow. Nestled at an intersection of several boughs, I found a cosy spot and tied myself in place using one of the tent’s lines. On the edge of a copse, my tree’s position at the top of a hill gave me a view down into the valley, but its leaves shielded me from sight.

That was when I heard the howls.

Three, long and low and eerie against the rising moon and evening blackbird song.

Every hair on my body stood on end as goosebumps crept across my skin.

Although wolves never ventured into Briarbridge, they roamed the land around. When I was five, a little girl had been helping her ma and pa round up sheep, and she’d disappeared. The wolves had taken her. That night, Ari’s pa had told us the story of Little Red Riding Hood.

---