Page 16 of Rebel Fae
“About her. I’m… I’m sorry she couldn’t escape.”
He didn’t say he was sorry I was still here, but at least he felt bad about Arryn. It wasn’t a lot, but his apology was something.
He glanced through the verdant leaves overhead and toward the evening sun peeking through the foliage. “We need to get going.”
“What did you mean about having to be at camp before the sun goes down?”
His face tightened. “I don’t know what it is, but they told me we have to be inside before sundown. There’s some kind of… monster loose. Something really bad.”
“A monster? Like the giant squid or the wild werewolves?”
“Worse,” he said. “I saw… I saw one of the werewolves the monster killed when we were getting prepared for the group’s arrival. What it did to the werewolf’s body…” Vaughn shuddered.
“Then we need to move.”
Together, we cut through the jungle back to the group, but just before we got to them, I turned and spoke to Vaughn over my shoulder. “Follow my lead.”
I tore into the clearing where the four others sat waiting. Seeing me, Baeleath stood up. Becca and Ronnie stared, wide-eyed and Regina lifted her head.
“You guys, I saw something… in the jungle... something bad. We need to go.” I pulled Becca to her feet and then reached for Ronnie’s hand. It was trembling and damp with sweat. “Don’t worry,” I added. “We just need to get a move on.”
While the four of them set out down the path without complaint, Vaughn stared at me. “I thought you couldn’t lie.”
“I didn’t. There was something bad in the jungle.” I gave him a look to let him know I meant him while he rolled his eyes. “A little, old fashioned fear never hurt anyone. You should’ve heard the things our fae nanny used to say to us as kids.”
Vaughn chuckled a little. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
We hurried to catch up with the group. They were moving at a faster rate, Regina first with her hands still bound, Ronnie and Becca next, and Baeleath behind them. As I caught up to him, he glanced back at me, his pink eyes assessing my body for damages.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I said, offering him a smile, too. I was passing a lot of those out today. “Just help me get the little ones to the campsite. Vaughn says it’s just up that ridge.” I pointed to where the trail grew steep and the trees thinned out.
He nodded and then started to head up the trail, but turned back. “Did you really see something back there in the woods?” His eyes narrowed calculatingly.
“I saw something, yes. We need to go.”
He looked as if he didn’t believe me, but accepted my vague answer. Using his long stride, he caught up to Ronnie and Becca and stayed close behind them, a silent purple guardian with large crow wings.
The rest of the hike was brutal. Everyone was already tired from walking all day and, now, the pace we were setting was grueling. Twice I caught Becca crying until Ronnie finally realized what was wrong and cast a spell to heal her blisters. He also did something to their water canteens and suddenly they had a lot more energy. For a moment, I worried that it might be like when Henry and Gina made alcohol from the coconuts, but I didn’t see any strange side effects. Ronnie might’ve been small and terrified, but I had a feeling he would come in very, very handy.
“How far?” I asked Vaughn as we crested another hill and still no campsite in view.
“I think it’s over there.” He pointed around a bend where the path disappeared around some trees. This was an area we’d never seen in our last round at New Starts, so I had no choice but to follow Vaughn.
We’d hiked up and up until we were high above the beach area where we’d last spent our time. Here, there were grassy cliffs that overlooked the frothy blue sea. Birds wheeled on the wind and dove into the water to catch their dinner. The sound of waves crashing and the wind cutting across the beach was temporarily soothing. I only wished I had time to appreciate the view.
The sun had set, smearing the horizon a pinkish-orange. The island was growing dark. Time was running out.
As we came around the bend, the campsite came into view. Several thatch-roofed, wooden huts on stilts circled a large fire, which burned in a stone-ringed pit. A stewpot hung over hot embers, wafting the smell of cooked meat our way, making my mouth water. The other campers glanced at each other, smiles on their faces.
But my good mood drained instantly when, beside me, Vaughn stiffened and tilted his head to listen behind us.
“What is it?” I asked.
He grabbed my arm and pushed me forward. “It’s too late. Run.”
