Page 59 of A Chill in the Flame
The weather was warm considering the lateness of the season, and the remaining red-brown leaves on the trees danced cheerily behind him with the gentlest of breezes. The scent of dying grass and falling leaves filtered through the air. The sun beamed down, catching in Ophir’s toffee hair to make it lighten to a vibrant shade of gold. Misdeeds should happen in the dead of night or rainy weather, not under happy sunlight. The pleasant conditions felt a tad disrespectful.
“I’m sorry!” Ophir was quick to speak. Her eyes scanned the space behind him for hunting companions amidst the trees but settled on the human. “I was on the road late last night. I only sought shelter and a place to sleep. I didn’t mean to startle you, and I apologize for using your bed. When no one was home…”
“You’re her,” the man breathed. Her face struggled againstthe urge to scrunch as he mumbled out two words she had not wanted to hear. Ophir could see recognition as it painted itself onto his otherwise unremarkable features. He was rather plainly dressed and looked like any hermit one might find in the country. While they’d been pillaging his kitchen for dried goods and drinks, there had been no paintings or evidence of the royal family within his simple home to suggest that he’d be familiar with the appearance of Farehold’s monarchs. Having lived for more than six decades, Ophir supposed knowledge of her description would have been around for longer than this human male had been alive.
Ophir felt the muscles in her back go rigid as she attempted to fruitlessly deflect. “I’m just a traveler…”
“No,” said the man, dropping the rabbits to the ground. He unsheathed a rusted, rather blunt sword. What he thought he’d accomplish with such a weapon, she’d never know. The blade’s only applicable use would have been sawing through the snares of his fur traps. “There’s a high reward for anyone who has information on the princess. I’m afraid I can’t let you leave.”
Ophir made a sad sound as she eyed the man. “You’re right. I am the princess. And do you know what I can do?” She took a step toward him.
He stumbled backward. “Don’t come any closer, Princess Ophir. I need to get you back to the castle. The whole kingdom has been looking for you—”
“I don’t have to come closer.” She lifted a hand and procured a small orb of fire. “I’m afraid I’m going to need you to lower your sword. I am sorry for sleeping in your bed last night. Though, out of curiosity, how did you plan to get me back to the castle? Particularly if I can’t step any closer?”
“You’re going to have to come with me,” he said, shakily ignoring her questions. “I have to bring you back to Aubade.”
She made a long, weary exhalation as she eyed the human. “Alternatively, you can step aside, let me leave, andkeep your life.”
He looked over his shoulder and began to shout names. The words were sharp, scared sounds on the man’s lip, demanding assistance. Ophir stiffened when she realized the man was not alone. His yelling continued as her eyes shot back to the trees. He was awaiting companions.
“Be quiet!” she hissed.
He shouted the names again, urging others forward. She could spot the moment the men broke from the tree line that he was the only human in the group. “Goddess dammit,” she murmured.
“It’s her!” the man yelled to the companions. “It’s Princess Ophir!”
“Shut up, you fool!” she snarled.
“Get her!” The farmer went one step too far with his command.
She felt no fear, only agitation. It was deeply annoying that such a simple man was causing troubles larger and deeper than he could possibly comprehend. She released the air from her lungs as she tried to decide how she’d deal with the nuisance.
Two men were advancing—one full-blooded fae and the other a faeling of mixed origins. They both had the telltale ears of the fair folk. She didn’t have time to find out if they could wield powers that might neutralize her. She couldn’t allow herself to be taken back to the castle, nor could word reach her parents as to her location. Her face crinkled in irritation as they ran for her.
“Stop!” she warned, raising her fireball. They slowed, but they did not come to a halt.
Over their shoulders, she saw another shape from the shadows of the forest. It was the gray, lithe shadow of an unnatural canine. It prowled like a large, agile cave cat, its many eyes blinking from the gloom between branches and trunks.
“This is your last chance,” Ophir warned, allowing thefire in her palm to grow into a menacing, orange orb.
The men did not stop.
“Sedit!” She cried for her hound. It let out a bloodcurdling howl, a sound that was too throaty for anything other than a legion of demons. Sedit’s sharp talons tore through the earth as it covered the distance between them in seconds. The vageth sprinted for the nearest man, launching itself through the air. It sank its needle-like teeth into the throat of the human’s flesh. Ophir thrust her ball of fire toward the nearest fae and watched as he screamed, his clothes catching fire as her power enveloped him. The human’s life had been forfeited the moment Sedit had ripped his jugular from where it was meant to stay. The demifae turned and began to run.
“Go!” she urged her hound, and the canine turned on sharp talons to tear after the man. The screaming of the fae on fire had ebbed as he fell to the ground. She looked over her shoulder with puckered brows, wondering why neither of her companions had come to help.
***
The moment Ophir left the door, Tyr and Dwyn locked in a quiet, angry battle.
“You’re on thin ice, witch.”
“I will kill you where you stand, dog,” Dwyn hissed.
“You can’t, and we both know it.”
He anticipated her next move. Tyr stepped into the place between things, shifting out of visible sight as she hurled water toward him. An entire pitcher overturned as she threw it toward his mouth, as if hoping to drown him on dry land. It missed its mark, soaking the wood of the floor as it splashed against nothingness.
