Page 12 of The Crowned Fae Queen
Ihave never climbed before. At least, not the climbing Miranda is suggesting we are about to do. Shimmy up a tree for a piece of fruit, sure. Clamber over the low limbs of a sitting tree to flirt with a guard I may have fancied, yes. But scale a wall? A wall likely coated in snow and ice.
“If I fall and hurt myself, Bear will have your head. Probably on a stick.” I frown as the memory of the tricky merchant comes to mind.
“Iwon't let you fall, Syren.”
His words do not feel as reassuring as they should. My stomach knots and my breath feels harder to catch. I am familiar with fear, and I’m not a stranger to misfortune. Yet somehow, this feels worse. Having those same threatening feelings but with no reasonable explanation.
Truly the work of magic. Because even though I know that these lands are under a spell, my mind does not truly believe it. No, because it has to be anything but.
Ifeel this way because something out there is looking at me. A beast. A monster. Something very, very hungry has its eyes on me, and I’m the prey. I’m being hunted.
My shoe knocks against a tree root. The upper half of my body careens forward, my lower half stuck behind me. Solid and spry, Miranda catches my shoulders.
“Iwill not be worrying about you when you chose this. I tried to avoid it. Just remember that. Stew on that thought a little bit.”
I’ll give you something to stew on,I think to myself like the child I am. With a flick of my wrist, Miranda jolts upright and immediately begins to kick down the snow that has managed to work its way up his pant leg.
Now this is entertainment.
“Play nice.” Miranda pouts. “Or maybe I won't be so kind as to warn you of our troubles along the way.”
Miranda moves to the side. Behind him, I can see the old stones of a solid, doorless wall. Evergreen vines and winter blooms poke out from under the cover of winter’s blanket. I glance up, counting the rows of stones that climb high into the sky.
Thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six...
This wall seems to go on forever. If anything were to physically touch the sky or the heavens where Goddess Nature and Goddess Celeste live, it would be this structure before me.
“High,” I say in surprise.
“Don't worry, once you’ve nearly reached the clouds, you’ll be able to climb over the top of it.” He winks, but it does little to tell me if he’s joking or trying to be encouraging.
Nothing he says or can say will be able to calm the unsettling the spell has done. I know that. And somehow, I also know that I must hurry to scale the wall before I turn and bolt right back to the carriage where unseen monsters cannot get me. At the very least, the wall seems to be very unevenly made, and stones jut out every which way.
“Would you like a boost?” Miranda offers, his arms folded over his chest as he watches me with little sympathy.
“No, no. I think I’m fine.” I narrow my gaze, determined not to let the witch’s magic be my undoing. With one large step, I hoist my leg up to a jutting stone, my hand reaching for another to grab. Muscles burn along my arm and back as I stretch as far as I can. My fingers just barely clip the snow dusted rock. The heat of my skin quickly melts the fine powder that falls against my arm at every almost, but not quite, swipe.
Huffing a large breath, I drop my leg back to the ground. “This is harder than I thought.”
“Would it kill you to ask for help just once in your life, Syren?” Miranda tuts.
Isettle my hands against my hips and give him a level stare.
“Clearly, it would. Come on now, let’s hear it.” He taps his foot impatiently, only continuing in my silence. “Here, let me help you. ‘Miranda, could you please be a dear and assist me in my climb?’”
My sigh is long and low. Practically a bitchy groan, really.
“Miranda, could youpleasegive me a boost onto this tall-ass wall?” It takes all my willpower and then some not to roll my eyes as I speak.
“Wow, and you sound so ladylike when you say it.” Miranda does roll his eyes. But in the end, like the good friend he is, he comes forward and hoists me up the wall.
Igrab onto the elusive protruding rock, settling myself against the cold stone. Snow makes my clothing damp and cold. Glancing around, I look for other bits of the wall to grab onto.
“Um,” I clear my throat. “What do I do now?”
“Seriously?” Miranda asks, already climbing nearly a foot above me. “Find a lip, dig your fingers into it, then find another one to balance your feet on.”
Right, right.My need to escape whatever it is out there that wants to eat is making it impossible to even think. That’s probably what the monster is banking on.
