Page 16 of Curse of Thorns
That’s that.
A gentle sparkle catches my attention on the side of the stone pathway. A little rebellious Lumistone bush has sprouted like a weed in a place it’s most certainly not supposed to be. My mother will certainly rip it out the first moment she sees it.
These plants have purplish-grey vines that wind and twist up and around anything they come into contact with; they’ll overwhelm structures if they’re not stopped. We have a garden shed on the north side of the grounds completely covered in them and a few trellises decorating the side of the gates.
They grow a fruit specific to my court that looks a bit like a small white grape, but if you cup it in your hand, it will reflect a rainbow of colors, scattering over your fingers gently. The fruit remains juicy and sweet on the vine but is only edible for a few minutes once plucked. They begin drying quickly, and after six months, they become stone-like. They’re not valued in our magical currency system, but they’re quite lovely and cherished by only this court.
I pluck one of the tiny fruits, stare at it for entirely too long. Then, I slip it into my pocket as a sign of what will never be.
I take in a long breath, banishing the ache in my chest. What I would do if things were different... well, I don’t even need to dwell on it. Because what’s done cannot be undone.
I swallow, mount my stag, and send one last fleeting glance to my father who watches me with clear condemnation.Don’t worry, father,I think, giving him a sharp nod in fair well, I’ll never give you the chance to disown me. You’ll live the rest of your life knowing a bastard child, not even your own blood, is the only legacy you leave behind.
It’s that thought that has a smile curling my lips, and I spur my stag into action, galloping through the gates of a palace I was never meant to inherit.
But I will take it, regardless. A weed like the Lumistone plants. He didn’t rip me out by the root while he had the chance and now—I’m not going anywhere.
My stag gallops down the pathway through the Iridescent Forest—white oaks whose leaves are near see-through, casting off light from the sun and scattering it all around like a forest of mirrors. As children, we used to gather piles of leaves and then maneuver them so that the light projected a pattern or image, like constellations. Or we’d create mazes and try to crawl through without touching a ray of light.
This forest holds a host of memories. I know it like it’s my own home. So, when a whisper of magic tickles my ear, I pull my stag to a complete stop. His hooves skid on the ground, pebbles flying.
Another indistinguishable whisper sounds from a path to the west. It bounces around, calling to me. Then, there’s another. And another. A whispering tone I recognize but can’t understand. The feeling shifts through me, delving deep into my soul.
I smile and direct Killian down the west trail, following the magic until finally, I spy the shadow fae sitting on a branch of a white maple, smiling at me.
“Took you long enough,” she says, her tone light.
“You didn’t need to leave the palace so early. It’s not my fault you decided to sleep in a damn tree.”
She hops to the ground, wiping her hands on her pants. “I figured it would be easier to get out of there while it was still dark.” She shrugs. “Nice stag.” She rubs his nose gently.
“Thanks.”
“Do you need him? I thought you said there was a portal nearby?”
I nod. “It’s about five miles off. Not far, but it will take us near the gates. It’ll be another thirty miles or more to reach the Crumbling Court stronghold.”
She purses her lips, an odd expression on her face.
“I couldn’t get a stag for you without being unnecessarily obvious. My father might already know we’re working together, but my people don’t.”
Her smile is bitter, eyes dark. “I understand.”
“You are welcome to join me. There is plenty of room for two.”
Her eyebrows rise, her lips curl into a smile I can’t take my eyes off of. “Your stag is not faster than I am.”
“Oh!” I match her smile with one of my own. “You think you can keep up, do you?” Excitement already pumps through my body. I do love a challenge, almost as much as I love being right.
“Try me.”
Without missing another beat, I kick my stag into action and press him into a full sprint, adrenaline pumping, eyes focused. Trees blur by as we soar through the forest, my stag’s stamp light and agile. Fae are fast, but a war mount like Killian will always be faster. No exceptions. And yet I hold nothing back. The trek is only a few miles, so even if my victory is extreme, I’ll be able to backtrack and find her easily.
And I know she’ll give it her all, so I give mine.
I round the bend, the trees thinning, and I see the marble archway where the path dead ends. I continue pressing Killian on as if my competition could be anywhere near me. As if she were next to me, challenging my win.
I pull Killian to a skidding stop but before we complete our halt, a shadow shifts and reveals an incredibly beautiful blond fae, leaning against the arch and smiling wickedly.
