Page 12 of Moonmarked

And with that thought in mind, I ran again.

five

Mysthaven.

I was in Mysthaven, land of the sorcerers.

How do you know,you ask?

Well, becauseplants are fucking moving!!!

My God, I was in Mysthaven, the sorcerer territory, theone placethat Rune had gone all the way to the other side of the continent to avoid. The one place that was more dangerous than all the rest, and that’s where I’d ended up.

Which,of course, Nilah. Of course, you did!

The memory of when Rune had carved the map of Verenthia on that tabletop in the Neutral Lands was right there in front of my mind’s eye. Below the Seelie Court was the Mercove, and right next to it was Mysthaven.

Here I thought I’d gotten so fuckingluckyto find that carriage and that boy—I’d thought for once I’d caught a break. But that tunnel through which we came out of the Seelie Court must have been right at the edge of the kingdom because the forest I’d ran into had eventually led mehere.It had led me to a fenced in garden full of plants that looked ordinary enough—until they started to move,bend forward and back, vibrate where they were fucking planted.

Sorcerers.

I’d run for maybe a couple of hours and walked a couple more. I thought I was moving ahead, thought I was in the Mercove, in thelandparts of it, and I had been determined to stay away from water. I had been determined to stick to land, so I didn’t have to come face to face with a mermaid again, and I’d been sure that eventually I’d make it to Cloakwood, the fomorian territory. From there, it would be easy to get to Blackwater.Easy,I’d thought.

Look at me now.

Exhausted, starved, so fucking thirsty that it hurt to think about water.

But even so, at the sight of those moving plants, I turned around and I ran again. Stumbled forward, slammed into trees, fell on my face more times than I could count.

Rune, please find me,I thought most of the time, the words repeating in my head like a fucking mantra.

Because I was not fit to survive this place on my own. Not even a little bit. I was not fit to survive in the wilderness—especially not one infused with fucking magic and monsters and creatures that could manipulate me with a single look.

That day, I was convinced that my only option at seeing the end of this alive was Rune. That day, I knew that if he didn’t find me, I wouldn’t make it. There was simply no way.

So, I ran and whispered his name in the wind, and I hoped magic, however it worked, would make him materialize in front of me out of thin air, but it didn’t. It was all in vain.

I was crying, I thought. Sweating. Shaking. And eventually,when the light around me dimmed, my legs gave up, too.

Death and I were no strangers. In the past week since I’d crossed through the Aetherway and into Verenthia, I’d been face to face with it at least a few times, but none had felt as final asthis.

None had felt as real, as all-consuming than when I crawled on all fours to try to get somewhere,anywhereat all.

And that was the only reason I noticed the small opening on the forest floor. I’d have missed it if I hadn’t touched it with my bare hands.

It was a small space set into a slight rise like the earth itself had exhaled and caved in. The thick roots of the trees to its side knotted together to form almost a roof, the limbs stretching like skeletal fingers sheltering the opening below. Fallen leaves had gathered over them as if on purpose, to shield it from anyone passing by. With shaking hands, I pushed them aside to see the shallow cave better. It was small, possibly not even big enough for two grown people, but if I managed to slide through the roots, I’d be perfectly hidden down there—from guards. From sorcerers. Hopefully from monsters who might want to feast on my flesh, too. Like a pocket of the woods carved into its floor.

It took me a while to slip past the roots and get down there, but I only broke one in the process. The rest remained like a roof over the cave. The sky had grown dark, the day at its end, and it seemed fitting, I thought.

When I curled up as well as I could against the dry earth, I prayed to God that the dark would be my friend, not another enemy.

Something moved over me.

My eyes opened slowly, and the first thing I noticed was the heavy scent of damp earth curling in the air. The root ceiling above my head dripped in slow, steady beats—rain. It was raining outside.

Every muscle in my body screamed in protest when I tried to move. The memories came back to me—of the dead prince and the carriage and the fae boy with his wide hopeful eyes.

And the memory of myself running in the woods without ever looking back, hoping I was moving in the right direction, thinking I knew where the hell I was going—thatmemory was still a blur to me. Like it had never really happened. It was never real.

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