Page 42 of The Princes of Stone and Steel

“What you will soon come to know.” Because that was an answer.Not. Yet apparently, it was the only one I’d get from her on the subject.

“We need you, flesh. The outliers, Roshambo needs you. If I told you this little secret, you’d be less inclined to help. But be warned, no matter what choice you make, someone will want to control you or… kill you.”

“So then it’s hopeless.” I heaved a long, heavy sigh, fighting to keep my tears in check. I would not cry despite the prickles behind my eyes and the stinging in my nose.HEA, Millie. Remember your HEA.

“Nothing is hopeless,” said the witch. “I said choices. You make the right connection, then you can succeed.”

“That makes no sense,” Steele protested, shaking his head and squeezing my hand tighter.

“Not to a Forfex prince.” The witch, Baba Yaga, defended her word choice. “Then, you aren’t the flesh.”

We’d been running for a while, and so much had already happened. I felt a hundred years older than I did the last night we’d spent at Old Tom’s place. Every step we took brought us closer to the last page of this grim fairytale. Each page we turned could mean the end of us or the promise for a new beginning. My shoulders sagged as my heart sank. The witch had me so confused. Make the right connection? What the hell did that mean?

For her part, Baba Yaga fed us the stew from the first pot. Although I didn’t recognize many of the vegetables or the meat, I shut up and ate without complaint.

She didn’t seem the type to put up with complaint and I had the feeling Steele and I would need her as an ally.

As we finished up our meal, she scattered what appeared to be seeds across part of the floor. They sprouted into a greenish-gold grass, dried in front of our eyes to full-on gold until we stared at a bed of hay.

That, she offered to Steele and me to spend the night on.

Suddenly exhausted, I took her up on her offer and lay down. Steele joined me soon after. With my head on his arm as my pillow, we crashed.

Seventeen

Millicent Merchant, 1820s

NEITHER MILLICENT NOR MÁRMARO DARED TO sleep, although both were exhausted, Millie even more so, a reaction from being fed on by the mist. The fear of the mist returning or of the Forfex finding their location made sleep impossible.

Even though safely within the boundary of the outliers, the pair could hear the grinding, crunching monster of the scissor clan closer than what would be considered comforting as they had no defense if discovered.

They held on to each other, warmed by the fire, yet trembling just the same.

Gradually, the Forfex noise moved far enough away that it became nothing more than a constant background humming. An annoyance, really.

“In the morning we will head back to my home. We’ll be safe there. My grandfather needs to learn of the Forfex monster,” Mármaro said.

Then ever-so-lightly, as light as butterfly kisses, Millie heard, “Yooouuu… muuusssttt… staaayyy…theee… outliiierrrsss… neeeddd… yooouuu.”

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Millicent asked her companion.

“I said, come first light, when we’re sure the mist has gone, we’ll head back to the Vráchos lands. You’ll be safe there.”

“No. Not that. I meant about the outliers.”

“What about them?” Incredulity dripped from his tone as he gave her arm a light squeeze.

“You said they need me.” Millicent puzzled her brows as she turned to take in the profile of the man who might have injured his head. Did the mist work in such a way?

“I said no such thing. Millicent, are you feeling well?”

“You said it,” she insisted indignantly. “I heard you. Do not tell tales, friend.”

“Heard me?Tales? That mist took more from you than I first thought. I insist you rest now.”

Well, Millicent had heard what she’d heard. Even being prone to bouts of imagination, Millie hadn’t had to use it since arriving in this strange land. Once Mármaro settled and his breath began to even out, indicating to Millicent that he had fallen asleep, those words spoken, words only she apparently could hear, rang out once more.

“Fiiinnnddd… theee… whiiittteee… hooorrrssseee…” she heard in a whisper, as if the wind itself spoke to her.

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