Page 56 of The High Mountain Court

Chapter Fourteen

They moved Heather and Fenrin across the river with haste, setting them up in a third-floor apartment overlooking the other side of the river. It was a full apartment, with a kitchen, bathing room, sitting room, and bedroom. It was far better than any lodgings they had ever stayed in before. They left bags of food on the kitchen table, rapidly acquired by the Eagles on orders from Carys. Before they departed, the prince set a bag of gold on the table. Heather protested, but Hale waved her off.

Their hugs were brief and their goodbyes fleeting. They had already said their true goodbyes at the inn.

By the time they reached the landing, Remy was clenching her jaw so hard she thought she might break it. It kept the tears from falling, at least. She hated this goodbye. Even more upsetting was the inevitability. She felt like she knew from the moment Hale grabbed her wrist in the Rusty Hatchet. An electric shock still coursed through her as she thought about it. Deep in her bones, she knew he was the start of a new adventure. She only wished she knew how it would all end.

“You okay?” Hale said in a deep, soft voice. He stood so close to her she felt the heat from his arm.

“I’m fine,” Remy gritted out. She did not want to indulge her sadness. There was no time to cry. They had to get out of this town before Abalina came looking for them, or, worse, Renwick’s blue witches discovered he had won a fake ring.

“Liar.” Hale smirked, causing Remy to stifle a laugh. It was that obvious, then.

She took a deep breath. “That bag of gold will take care of them for years. There’s no way I can thank you enough . . .”

“Try,” Hale teased.

Remy met his gaze finally, and he was grinning at her, his gentle taunting an attempt to cheer her up.

“Let’s move,” Bri interrupted as she and Carys descended the tight stairwell behind them.

Talhan stood outside, holding the reins of the first of five horses, the others hitched to a post. The male fae had unbuckled their packs along the midline strap, bisecting them into two messenger bags that sat on either side of the horses’ flanks. Remy stared at the new pack loaded with clothes that Bri had bought for her. She had not realized they could break them down into two parts so they were weighted for riding. Her old pack had been one big leather sack with shoulder straps attached.

Remy’s new pack sat on a caramel brown mare.

She stared at the horse for a beat before Hale said, “You don’t know how to ride, do you?”

Remy shook her head. They had walked most of the way from the Western Court, occasionally hitching rides in carriages and wagons.

Talhan cursed himself. “Sorry, I just assumed. I should have known.” He moved the two packs off the front black horse and onto Remy’s mare.

“What are you doing?” Remy asked as the warrior loaded up the caramel horse.

“You’ll ride with me,” Hale said.

Remy opened her mouth to protest, but Bri let out a low whistle. Everyone froze. It was a warning sound. They followed Bri’s gaze across the river. At first Remy didn’t see it, but then she spotted the inn, so far upstream that it was a mere speck.

“What is it?” Remy whispered, as if whoever they were watching could hear them from all that way.

“Northern guards,” Carys whispered back. “Six of them. They don’t look like they’ve come for drinking.”

“We’ve got to move. Now,” Talhan said.

In the same moment, Hale grabbed Remy around her waist and lifted her onto his horse. She clung to the horn of the saddle as the horse shifted. Remy was certain it leaned so far to the side that she would topple off, but then the horse shifted back to an even weight. Hale mounted the horse with ease and settled in the saddle behind her. Every part of his front pressed into her back. Her thighs pushed into the solid muscles of his, her back felt the steady rise and fall of his chest, and her bottom pressed right back into his pelvis . . . Remy gulped. She couldn’t think about it.

“Hang on,” Hale whispered into her ear. That fluttering breath sent tingles through her entire body. But those warm tingling thoughts flew out of her mind as the horses moved.

* * *

The hard toe of a boot poked into Remy’s back.

“What, here? Seriously?” Remy hissed at the owner of the boot interrupting her first rest in several days.

They had spent three days traveling nonstop through the humid Southern jungles. The surrounding nature was so different from the Western Court. The jungle thrived with stinging, thorny plants, spiders the size of dinner plates, and swarms of biting insects. The trails were so overgrown with thick vines that they had to take turns slicing through the trail to make way for the horses. Remy had volunteered her magic for clearing the path ahead because her hips and thighs ached from riding in the saddle. Walking was easier, even with the constant casting of magic to push back the foliage. Walking also provided some distance from Hale. They hadn’t seen another soul for several days; if they were lucky anyone trailing them had gotten lost or gone the other way.

Remy had heard Bri rise from her bedroll behind her and had prayed that the fae warrior only needed to relieve herself, but no, here she was, fully dressed and ready to train.

“Yes, training doesn’t only happen when it’s convenient.” Bri kept her voice both quiet and threatening.

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