Page 13 of The Lost Fae
They talk amongst themselves. Bits of their conversations carry to me.
"A pirate whore," one says.
"I knew they'd get curious one of these days," another jaunts.
"Maybe it's the Captain."
"Maybe it's the first mate."
"Perhaps... it's that winged Fae girl." A few of them whistle at one another, content to carry on with their imagining before they come to find that it's just Ziko, scowling from the tree trunk. I wish I could see their faces when they get there.
I smile to myself. Firelight glows ahead and I push myself to move faster. I need to get in and out before they return. Surely, they've left a few men behind at the camp and I'll need to be quick and quiet to get around them.
My heart pounds inside of my chest. It beats with my human anxiety.
Just pretend you're stealing from a foster parent. You've done it a million times when you needed to. And you need to right now. You need to get home.
By the gods,Lincoln thinks,they smell just as bad close up as they did during the attack. Do these men ever bathe?
What's the need when you live like a wild man in the woods?I counter.
Many different shades of fabric have been tightly sewn together. The materials drop off of low hanging tree branches, creating tents with bawled up blankets inside. Fire light flickers off their taunt edges.
One, Two, Three. I count the tents. Fifteen in total that can easily fit three men or more inside. Bark bites my palms as I press myself into a tree listening. I close my eyes and focus on my Fae half, my new and improved hearing.
One heartbeat.
One.
I open my eyes and scan what I can see. A few fire pits and a few massive piles of odd and end pieces. Must be what they've mainly scavenged from the pirates. Then there, opposite where I stand between two tents draped in red fabric stands two large poles with small platforms on top. Two roughly carved metal gears sit on either pole.
The damn ship parts. Well... Beatrice did well in scouting the camp. It honestly looks remarkably like the image of the map I remember. Now to pinpoint exactly where the single heartbeat is...
The Fae cheer louder as they find Lincoln. An echoing laugh finding its way back to me. But I can't focus on that. Instead I listen to thethump thumpof a stranger’s heart. Slow and steady, a few yards away.
In a tent. Fast asleep. I quickly realize. The blood that rushes through their veins moves at a leisurely pace, a small snore coming from their makeshift home.
Perfect.
As if I'm stepping into a pool of water, I ease my foot into the light. Nothing moves, no alarms sound off. I let go of the breath that I held without thinking and force myself forward. Making sure to walk with the sly purpose of a jungle cat, I edge toward the poles. The sticks are double my height, but I'm certain I'll be able to jump that high easily.
On the other half of my consciousness, the side that is somehow always present with Lincoln. I can hear their taunts as they poke and prod at him. He grumbles back, unamused by the entire situation.
In the center of the camp, the grass has been worn away to dirt. Sporadically, there are carved up stumps of trees that have been cut down. I look behind me and curse at the prints that I leave behind in the dust. The imprint of my foot is so much smaller than the wide boot and the occasional bare footprints that circle the fires and weave between the tents.
A fire spit sits with a fresh piece of meat heating over one of the fires. Warmth heats my sides at all angles from the arrangements of burning wood. It flickers menacing shadows that my nervous eyes immediately dart to follow. My pulse quickens, then dies back down as I calm myself down from the non threatening fear.
The Fae untie Lincoln and I know my time is running short. I look up the tall pole, squatting low before I pounce upward and grip the wooden platform, pulling my body weight up and over it. I hold the metal piece, practically rusted, to my chest as I slither on top of it. I lean forward to reach for the other, my fingers brushing the sharp edges--
"What are you doing?" a female voice asks.
I yelp, almost dropping the piece and my hand as I snatch the other one up. My body topples to the side falling from the small wooden platform. Uncurling from my body, my wings catch me, lowering me with a less than eloquent grace.
Genuinely... for a moment, I forgot I had those. Not that I'm sure I know how to use them well if I tried. I'm thankful for them as dirt clouds around my feet.
A girl, dressed in a red flowing top tucked into tight leather pants cocks her head at me, walking sideways to keep me in her dead center. Her full head of grey hair is parted all on one side showing off her round ear covered in piercings.
"What are you doing here?" I cough. "I'm trying to get your ship working so your crew can take me to the queen."
