Page 98 of A Song of Air
She was all too eager to do so. In fact, if she never stepped foot in this foul-smelling hovel ever again, she would be all too content.
In her eagerness to get away, she let Weylyn help her out of the rickety wooden chair and guide her away. She held her breath as they passed the smelly dead body of the ghoul. It didn’t ease even when they made it outside. Even as he guided her over the lumpy ground. In fact, the stench seemed to follow them even as they left the place far behind.
Neither of them spoke to one another. At least, not until they were far, far away. Through it all, Bryson blinked furiously, but it was still difficult to make much out.
“Come,” Weylyn urged.
The rushing sound of water reached her ears.
“Let us clean up, little mate.”
She let him be her eyes, content, at least for a moment, as he led her to the edge of the riverbank. This one was not as smelly as the previous one. It smelt fresh and reminded Bryson of Corvina.
“Stay here.”
Weylyn released her and she heard his footsteps slosh into the water, dipping and disturbing for a few moments. When he appeared at her side again, he no longer smelt of blood or death. Instead, of cocoa and spice, comforting, sharp, just like he was.
His grip on her was firm and gentle as he pulled her towards the water. It was a shock of cold at first, but she grew accustomed to it the deeper she waded, down to her waist. Surprisingly, Weylyn began gently sliding water against her, cleaning off the smell. And when he eased her back, she complied, floating on her back so he could slip his fingers into her hair, combing out the mud.
When he finished, Bryson dunked her head under, guzzling water and rinsing her mouth until she felt nearly clean once again.
“Come.” He grabbed her elbow, pulling her back to dry land. “We must find a place to lay and rest.” There was a beat of silence. “We are out in the open, and there are creatures far worse than the ghoul out here.”
She followed at his side, his hand firm on her elbow. “Whereishere?”
Another pause, and she wished desperately that she could look at his face up close and see the expression he wore. Finally, he said, “The Unseelie Court.”
The shock of those words nearly sent her stumbling to the ground. It was only his hands that kept her upright.
The Unseelie Court.
The Unseelie Court.
“Fuck,” she whispered aloud.
Weylyn snorted, almost as though he were echoing her sentiment.
Bryson had known that the mushroom circles were... dangerous, so to speak. Mushroom circles were seen as a bad omen, as portals that would push you into other worlds. They emitted a strange magic she’d avoided. She’d always been so careful, able to sense them before even coming into contact with them. What her eyes couldn’t see clearly, her body had made up for.
But it hadn’t mattered how careful she’d been. She ended up within one regardless.
And now she was in a court she knew nothing about, with iron permeating the air and pushing into her eyeballs.
It was like losing her sight all over again.
The rush of emotions made her face heat and she tried to keep them under control, but it was difficult. Rage, despair, it all came crashing down around her and she couldn’t speak. Weylyn didn’t seem to be inclined to do so either as he led her away. As he led her through a fucking court she didn’t know, surrounded by iron, weak, helpless, having to rely on him.
She’d almost gotten herself fucking eaten, for Mana’s sake.
She hated the feeling of helplessness. Hated having to rely on him of all Fae. Hated that relying on him did bring her dread and comfort in equal measure. She’d wanted nothing to do with him. In fact, she’d been planning on breaking things off with Everette and then telling Weylyn exactly where he could shove the mate bond.
Bryson let out a frustrated sigh and felt Weylyn’s eyes sharpen on the side of her face. She ignored it, ignored him, trying to mask all she was feeling behind a stoic expression. Bryson became lost in her own thoughts for the rest of their walk.
“Here,” Weylyn finally said. “There’s a hollow in this tree we can take refuge in.”
She nodded grimly and he guided her with a palm to her back, bending her so she could fit into the hole. It smelt damp and mossy, but it wasn’t at all unpleasant. And it was warm within its confines, so she wouldn’t worry about catching a chill.
Especially not when she felt Weylyn press close at her side.
