Page 66 of Lore of the Wilds

Lore scooted around an orc she’d seen hanging up her laundry this morning. She was haggling with a vendor over the price of cinnamon sticks while her son clutched her skirts, clearly overwhelmed by the noise.

“When we were little, the Exile was more of an eatery than a pub. Finndryl and I spent more time playing on the kitchen floor while our mother cooked than we did upstairs at home. We cut our teeth on ladles and learned to count by sorting beans. My mom made the best pumpkin soup in the whole town.” Isla’s eyes looked far away, past the market and into her memories. The light fae’s eyes glistened. “People came from all over Hazel Grove just to eat a bowl of it on the autumn equinox. Back then, my father was so proud of the Dragon’s Exile. But when my mother left and took us with her, he let the cooks go and closed the kitchen for good. He stopped really caring after that, and—well, you’ve seen the place.”

“I have. I got up close and personal with it today. It needs some love, that’s for sure.” Lore frowned. Now she was unsure if she should go ahead with her plan for the coin Gryph had given her. She’d told Isla her plan to bring food back to cook in the kitchen—was she overstepping?

But Isla squeezed her arm in a comforting gesture. “I could tell my father loved that the kitchen was being used again. It’s been a long time since my mom left and I think he’s finally accepted that she’s not coming back. It’s time for him to move on and start caring again. That’s another reason I decided to come up here for a few weeks—to help him with the Exile.”

“Good, then let’s purchase some provisions and get out of this wind. I smell snow.” She was just turning to Isla to ask if she preferred beef or mutton stew when she saw them.

Three sentries in black uniforms with blue stripes.

Suddenly, the sweet chocolate on her tongue turned to ash. Her legs froze and her chest constricted, so tight she thought her heart would burst.

They had found her. Somehow, they had found her. They would hurt Isla for being with her, and it would be all her fault. She and Asher had thought they wouldn’t come this far south.

They’d been wrong. And Lore had been stupid to leave the safety of Gryph’s home.

But wait, maybe they hadn’t seen her yet. The guards weren’t paying her any mind, meandering through the market. She could leave right now and slip away.

“What is it? Lore, what is going on?” Isla’s sharp voice cut through Lore’s fear just as a gust of winter wind tore through themarket, snatching Lore’s scarf from her head and exposing her ears to the sentry looking right at her.

“Run.” Lore’s voice came out choked as she dropped her basket, grabbed Isla’s hand, and sprinted toward the first side street she saw. But there were so many people shopping now, and customers seemed to be everywhere. Stalls were popping up where she could’ve sworn there weren’t any before.

Lore had to drop Isla’s hand to skirt around a wood nymph’s jewelry stand, but she wasn’t fast enough, and she knocked into it. A sharp pain shot through her hip, making her cry out. She winced again at the crunch of a beautiful shell necklace beneath her boot.

If she survived and made it out of here alive, she would come back and pay the cursing owner of the stall.

Lore glanced back. The guards were gaining on her. They were so much faster than her. She cursed her short, human legs. In a few more breaths, they would be close enough to grab her.

She dropped, crawling beneath a vendor’s stall, and bolted into an alley. She didn’t know how she would get away, considering they could probably smell her fear and would follow her trail.

“Hey, stop her! She’s wanted by the royal guard!”

She could barely hear their cries over the sound of the blood roaring in her ears, and yet they sounded so close. She thought her lungs might seize up from fear and the exertion of running, but she kept sprinting from one alley to the next. She didn’t dare turn around for long to see if they were closing in on her. She just pushed forward, running without knowing where she was going.

It wasn’t until she found a row of backyards, all connected by rotting wooden fences, that she realized she’d lost Isla. Panic came over her. Had the light fae been captured? Had they hurt her? Lore knew she would never forgive herself if harm befell her new friend.

But she couldn’t do anything to help her, not against the fae. Besides, her hip smarted from where she’d run into the stall andnow her palm hurt. She must have scraped it on the wooden fence. Plus, the likelihood of Isla being caught was slim. She knew this village better than the visiting sentries, and she was fast and light on her feet. She would lose them easily.

Lore tore through the backyards, dodging wooden horses meant for children, hanging laundry, and shrubs. To her right were the woods. Maybe she could lose them through there? She glanced back and saw one of the guards kicking the wooden fence and breaking it apart easily.

They were so close.

She turned sharply and, instead of finding her way to the next yard, took a running leap. Clinging to the top of the fence, she used all her might, praying to the hidden stars above as she heaved herself up. She flailed with her feet and launched herself over the fence.

She had thought—or rather had hoped—that there would be a soft patch of moss that would break her fall, but instead there was a steep, jagged granite slope leading to a drop-off. She’d seen the trees on the other side of the fence but had grossly underestimated their height. Their roots were not even with the ground of the backyards she’d just left; instead, they stretched out far below her.

She skidded down the slope, feet first, trying not to pitch forward. She was falling fast, and she didn’t want to tumble headfirst. Twisting her body, she tried to slow her fall by grabbing onto a root or anything, but the ground was too steep and the wet leaves and moss too slippery to hold on to.

She was gaining too much momentum.

She cried out in agony as she slipped, her shoulder digging into a sharp rock before her weight pulled her farther down the slope. She could hear the voices of the guards.

Shit, they were following her. If this fall didn’t kill her, then the guards would.

Finally, she made it to the bottom of the slope and immediately started crawling through a clump of roots. She managed to get through them and bolted. The trees here were spread out, but up ahead the trees were younger, closer together, and there were more bushes. She would have a better chance of hiding there.

She cursed herself for going to the market. She wasn’t here to explore. She was in hiding.

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