KARIS

Loftin eased me behind him and held his hands out, palms extended toward the Banshee. He was trying to protect us. The creature didn’t even notice his movement, too determined to shred the tree. And then she was gone. He exhaled loudly, a brief moment of relief.

He started to glance back at me, and then a loud cracking sound came from above us. “She’s trying to tear it in half! We have to get out of here!” he exclaimed.

“NO!” I screamed. If we left the trunk, I was afraid we were as good as dead.

Loftin uttered a curse and grabbed my upper arms. “Will you trust me? I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. I swear it.”

The people of Ironton had several rules regarding the fae. Never give a faery your trust was one of the most important. But the way he vowed to protect me, the urgency and his tone, made me believe. He’d gotten me this far.

I nodded my head rapidly. We could do this. I needed to get to my staff, which I dropped just outside when we squeezed into the tree. And Loftin had his sword. He’d wounded the Banshee with it before. “Okay,” I answered shakily.

My pulse raced, but the option of running was taken from us when the Banshee tore the tree completely in two, exposing us. She hovered in the air above, and a sickening smile crept over her lips as if to say, “I’ve got you now.”

When I examined her eyes, I saw something in them that wasn’t evil at all. There was desperation. She moaned as if trying to speak, and reached her hand out to me. Droplets of blood dripped from her fingertips. Her claws had retracted.

She needed something. She wasn’t trying to hurt me.

I reached out to her.

Our fingers were inches away from touching when Loftin bellowed a battle cry and sliced the Banshee’s head clean off her body. It landed with a loud thump on the forest floor, just before the rest of her crashed to the ground at my feet. Her eyes, fixed and vacant, stared at me.

I whirled around to Loftin, who was panting and swiping the Banshee’s blood off the blade of his sword. “Why did you do that?”

“She had you under her thrall! You were reaching out to her. If she’d gotten ahold of you...” He sheathed his sword and braced his hands on his hips, exhaling loudly.

“I wasn’t under her thrall!” I yelled. And I wasn’t – I was simply trying to understand her. When I reached out to her, it was because I knew I needed to touch her.

“You were,” he retorted, shaking his head disgustedly. “You don’t even realize how close to death you just were. And if you want to find your friend before one of them,” he gestured to the dead beast in front of him, “or something worse does, you need to listen to me. I told you not to look into her eyes. It’s how they hypnotize—humans, animals, fae. They’re incredibly powerful, and just because you didn’t ‘feel’ like you were under her control, believe me when I tell you that you were. There’ll be very little I can do to help you if you refuse my advice in this place, Karis. Very little.”

Harried and wild in his appearance, with eyes of fire as he stared at me, waiting for an answer, I saw just how frightened he was.

He was right. He knew this world and I didn’t. “I’m sorry, Loftin. I should have listened.”

He glanced away from me and muttered, “It’s okay.” Focusing on the hollow trunk she’d torn in half to get to us, his eyes narrowed. “What is that?” he muttered, walking toward the trunk. He knelt down and ran his fingers along the bark.

With a jolt, I realized it wasn’t dead anymore. What had been dark, dry, and brittle had become moist and strong and supple. “I thought the tree was dead,” I whispered, crouching beside him. My fingers traced a small vine that climbed up the bark. Tiny leaves began to sprout along the creeper where I touched it.

“Karis,” Loftin choked.

I pulled my finger away and scuttled back, my hands digging into the ground. He rose and watched in awe as the ground around me turned green and vibrant. It was coming alive, and somehow, I was the one bringing it back to life.

Loftin pulled me up, his hands grasping my shoulders. “How did you do that?” he asked, his voice teetering on the precipice of awe and fright.

I shook my head rapidly. “I don’t know.”

Loftin stared at me for a long moment and then let me go. I stumbled backward a couple of steps. He rubbed the scruff on his jaw. “I need to think. And we have to get going.”

I stared at the tiny green leaves on the vine and then flicked my eyes toward the Banshee. Loftin stepped in front of me. “Don’t. We have to keep moving forward. Don’t look back, Karis.”

* * *

As darkness descended, the forest became eerily quiet. When the land died, it must have taken the insects with it. I missed their song. I missed my home and my cot, too, but most of all, the comfort that Iric had always given me. He always made sure I was safe, fed, and kept from as much ugliness as he could prevent. Here, even though I was with Loftin, I was on my own.

“Loftin, I can’t find Iric’s scent trail.”

“We have to go this way to keep safe,” he vowed. “There are places in this forest that should be avoided, and if you know them, you can skirt around them. Once you’re used to the feel of this place, you can sense danger coming, even a cool shift of the wind.”

There was hesitation in his voice.

“But that means Iric is in danger. He needs us,” I pressed, pushing away the image of Vivica sitting at her vanity, waiting for me to return her son.

Loftin was quiet, lost in thought or trying to sense the atmosphere around us. The only sound was that of our footfalls crunching upon the dead, dry leaves.

We came to a small cliff, not that I could see it in the dark. Loftin grabbed my arm before I walked over the edge. “I think I know which way he went. We’ll keep moving, but slowly and carefully,” he announced.

“Do you think we’ll catch up to him?”

He nodded once, but wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“Maybe he’ll make a fire and throw up a smoke signal,” I offered.

The moonlight illuminated his sharp features. He was beautiful, otherworldly. “If he does, it would be a grave mistake. It would send a signal to every hungry Unseelie in a fifty mile radius. Not the best idea.”

I swallowed and prayed Iric kept moving, too. Or better yet, climbed a tree and stayed put. That would be best for all of us. He had to know how dangerous a fire would be here, despite the fact that it was so cold. Unlike the warm summer inside Ironton’s dome, in Faery, an enduring chill hung in the air, and not only from approaching Banshees. It wasn’t frigid, just uncomfortable.

“Let’s take a short break and then we’ll carry on,” he proposed, sitting on a fallen log to rest. Loftin removed his small bag, settling it within reach.

My stomach was empty and Loftin must be famished, too. I sat next to him and removed my own bag, reaching inside for the fruit and bread I’d managed to find. When I lifted the apple, its soft flesh gave way beneath my fingers. “It... it’s rotten,” I exclaimed, astonished. What was supple fruit this morning was now soft to the core. As I pulled out the small loaf of bread, the thick scent of mold filled the air. “These were fresh just this morning.”

I held the fruit and bread up to see them in the moonlight and watched as they dried, turned to dust, and blew away on the soft breeze.

Loftin gave a rueful grin. “Welcome to Faery.”

I dusted my hands off on my pant legs. “How is this possible? Why is everything dying?”

“I already told you. It’s because the original courts are gone. There’s no magic, nothing to stop the shadows and ash that consume everything in this place.”

“Someone has to be able to stop it. Are there no Seelie left to fight? Are the Unseelie the only fae with power?”

He scrubbed his face with his hands. “No, there are a few Seelie left, but their powers have greatly diminished. You see, a fae’s power depends on the nature around it. They draw power from their court and leaders. Without either, they’re almost as defenseless as a human. Most of the Unseelie are just beasts, controlled by nothing more than hunger and instinct. They have no power other than brute force and determination.”

“But you’re powerful. You’re Seelie,” I claimed quietly. He’d killed one Banshee and was merciful to another. He’d killed the beast with the great tail that had lingered outside Ironton.

“I’m very old, so my power hasn’t disappeared entirely, though I feel it diminishing little by little each day.”

He didn’t appear to be old. He looked only a few years older than Iric and me. I took in his slumped shoulders. He was fighting to survive, too. How awful it must be to feel your essence being sucked away and powerless to stop it.

“Who rules the Unseelie?” I asked, the darkness around us seeming to thicken.

He stared at me, a war raging across his face. “A dark queen. Don’t bother asking her name. I wouldn’t say it in this place. It may call her to us.”

I rubbed my arms. Loftin noticed. “Come here,” he entreated, raising his arm.

I barely knew him, but something deep within convinced me that he wouldn’t hurt me. If that were his motive, he could have a thousand times today.

“Why are you helping me?” I asked carefully.

He lowered his arm and tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“What’s in it for you? You’re supposed to be roaming the forest hunting—whatever it is you hunt. Why stop to help me find Iric?”

He smiled slightly. “Life here can be monotonous. I crave variety, and you are currently providing quite an adventure. Two Banshee attacks in a span of only a few hours is impressive.” His tone changed, lowering and becoming quieter. “I also don’t like to see innocents killed at the hands of the Unseelie. You and Iric are innocent. Plus, you owe me a favor.”

Iric was out there somewhere. “Do you think Iric’s okay?”

Loftin raised his arm again and this time, I slid into his warmth. “Only time will tell, but he’s made it farther into Faery than most.”

Trying to ignore the way his body pressed against mine felt warm and muscled and powerful, I fought the blood that rushed into my cheeks. He’d given me no indication that he saw me as anything other than a girl who happened to aggravate him and ignore his sage advice. Except when he’d spoken about my lips and scent...

The way his eyes pinned me into place as he described me as a fae female made me feel like one of Gregoire’s moths. Would he keep me confined as a pretty thing if he could, only for his hands to touch? The thought made me warm and cold at the same time. What would it be like to be wanted by a man? What would it be like to—?

Loftin shifted beside me and I pushed such thoughts from my mind, gulping them down with the knot that had formed in my throat. This is nothing, I told myself. Iric and I sat like this a thousand times before and I never felt this way. Loftin was no different than Iric. He wanted to help. That was all.

But was it more?