Page 112 of Across an Endless Sea

At one point, Marl almost gets dragged away from me by the swirling eddies, and he bites hard into the tendon of my neck to stay on. A burst of bubbles escapes as I gasp reflexively in pain, and I mentally curse him a hundred ways as I get a mouthful of stinking water for my trouble.

By the time we surface, I’m half drowned, and so are the others. The drakes—with their larger lungs—have no such problem, and it takes a lot of harshly barked commands to stop them from diving again. We’re far enough away from the camp that the sounds of pursuit have died away, but not far enough for me to feel comfortable stopping to rest.

“That was reckless,” I growl. “We could’ve made the gate—”

“And they would’ve just followed us the whole way to Elfhame,” Prae finishes for me, glaring back. “At least this way we won’t have them on our tail for the entire trip.”

No. Just Elatha and his army later on.

I keep the bitter thought to myself as the huge lizards swim farther downstream, into the darkness.

It isn’t until much later, as we pull our mounts from the river and risk a small fire on the rocky bank, that I realise I’ve just been hunted by my own people. Outcast. Despite everything I did to earn their favour. Every battle I won, the fucking siege I led and planned with Prae.

They still went after me without a thought.

The wound to my ass is actually less painful than the knowledge that we fit nowhere now. Not with the Fomorians, as cherished heirs of Balor, and even less with the fae, who despise us more.

“I’m sorry I brought this on you,” I whisper, breaking the silence which has existed between us since we left the water. “I never would’ve brought you into this…”

Prae scoffs, pausing midway through reapplying her war paint—becauseof courseshe managed to save her makeup during our escape—to pin me with a piercing one-eyed stare.

“I saw it coming from the second you returned home with her mark on your hand,” she retorts. “You had a conflict of interest—amate.Elatha was never going to trust you as his heir.” She scoffs slightly. “Not when you had someone more important to you than he could ever be.”

Beside her, Marl whimpers in his sleep, the black pile of fur which is him twitching slightly before settling once more.

“You should’ve left me.” She’s lost her position, her workshop…

“Shut up,” she retorts.

“I mean it, you were theheir.”

“For all of five seconds.” She snorts. “I never wanted to be the heir. I told you, that’s not my definition of glory.” She hesitates. “And for the record, I’ve never considered your asshole father my king.”

I flop onto my front, not brave enough to put my weight on my still healing butt. “Then whatisyour definition of glory?” I retort, reaching down to dislodge a stone that’s poking me in the hip. “Gold?”

She never struck me as the type, but females do like shiny shit.

Of course, Prae doesn’t actually deign to answer my question with more than an eye roll.

“Get some sleep,” she says. “And pull yourself together. We might be able to reach the outer wall by next sundown if your punctured sorry ass doesn’t slow us down. I have no idea what condition the outer city will be in, given that we left Haor in charge.”

I can imagine exactly how the outer city will look, and I don’t bother hoping that I’m wrong. Haor will have looted and burned as much of it as possible to break the fae still hiding in the inner city. It’s what I would’ve done…

Before Rose turned my life upside down.

Thirty-Five

Rhoswyn

I’m playing with Wraith in the courtyard when the messenger arrives. My barghest puppy is huge, but he still behaves like the hyperactive hunting hounds which sometimes accompanied the Nopchurch huntsman when he visited my human father’s forge. He even plays fetch—which is apparently Lore’s doing. The bone that he prefers is huge, and I wonder idly what type of creature it came from as I throw it with a grin on my face.

Jaro is leaning against one of the silver birches which form the pillars around the edge of the courtyard, but every now and again, Wraith will drop the bone at his feet, and the knight will grin, ruffle his fur, and throw it out of the courtyard and into the forest beyond, prompting the barghest to barrel through the palace on his quest to retrieve it.

He’s almost bowled over a few fae already. but his happy yips and howls are so sweet, and no one has been injured, so I can’t bring myself to care.

Hooves clatter on the flagstones as a faun runs through the gate. He’s wearing a messenger’s tabard, and his eyes are wide as he looks around.

“I have a message for the knight commander!” he cries. “It’s urgent.”

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