Chapter Six
The rock against his window was their signal, and Seth was ready. The bag held essentials—change of clothing, money, and a little food. Nothing more, as traveling light was a necessity.
Kira waited for him at the bottom. His feet barely touched ground when she grabbed his hand and started running past Taren’s house, to a section of woods that they often played in when they were children. Two horses awaited them, and within minutes they were seated and off.
They rode in silence, rode hard throughout the night. Their stops would have to be infrequent and they would need to go as fast as their horses would permit.
Kira had their route planned. She had to avoid the people evacuating from Tolshire, out of fear Seth’s father would have guards posted along the way, but they could chance stopping in some small towns once they passed the border.
Their first major stop was only a short ride past the border right before sunset. Kira originally planned to stop farther along, but Seth’s horse was past drained, and if they kept pushing him, Seth feared hurting the steed.
“Ow,” Kira cried, rubbing her wrist. She had been doing that often lately, touching her wrist, but this was the first time a cry of pain accompanied the act.
“What’s wrong?” Seth came over to see, grabbed her arm even as she shook her head at him.
Her birthmark was red and inflamed. “What happened?” If it was infected, they needed to turn back now and get to healers.
“Nothing is wrong. I’m not sure what’s happening. It’s been…uncomfortable lately, and I don’t know why.”
As he watched, the little mark on her skin got redder, and Kira gave an indrawn breath in response. “Kira, we need to go back—”
“What do we have here?’
Seth whipped his head around to look for the owner of the voice—high-pitched with malignant glee almost dripping from the words. Seth’s eyes focused on a man who fit the image the voice created. Reed-thin with almost reptilian features, the man’s smile chilled him to his core.
Kira stepped in front of Seth, her hand coming to her sword. “What we have here is none of your concern, and as we do not wish to share our camp, you can leave.”
“But I want to stay.” The S in his speech emphasized the lizard comparison, as did the fluid, rolling motions of his body as he moved. “This is so interesting. The betrothed of the cursed princess, in front of me.”
Kira drew her sword and pointed it at the man. “On your knees,” she said. That voice Seth knew, and if it were him, he’d have hit the ground without another word.
The stranger didn’t have the same sense of self-preservation. He smiled, teeth glittering in the dying light. He drew his own weapon and attacked.
The man’s movement was so fast that Seth wouldn’t have been able to parry, but Kira met his blade and deflected it, throwing the man off balance. The man righted himself in an instant, but the moment before he raised his sword to meet Kira’s swing, Seth saw shock plain as day line the man’s features.
Seth drew his own weapon and stepped back to give Kira enough room to maneuver. His own ego needed to be kept in check, as did his worry. Kira was the stronger fighter, her movements sharp and precise, her blade always finding her opponent’s unprotected spots. Entering the fight now would only put Kira in danger because she would be focused on him and not herself. He needed to stay put unless there was a clear reason to interfere.
Once again Kira’s sword was deflected, but this time she kicked out and hit the man’s knee. He crumpled but rolled away and righted himself in time to block Kira’s downstroke. He threw her far enough away that he was able to get on his feet before she could attack again.
The man was good. He was as good as Taren, and against anyone but Kira, he would have won the match quickly. He lunged at her, but Kira was prepared. She spun on her heel so that the man stepped past her and as her spin ended, she was at his unprotected back. She thrust her sword through his shoulder.
A shrieking cry tore through the clearing, so sharp and horrific that Seth dropped his weapon to clutch his hands over his ears in a vain attempt to block the sound. Through the pain he focused on Kira. The sound didn’t affect her as it did him. She stood still, watching the man who was now on the ground, his hand clasping his wounded shoulder.
The shoulder that gushed green blood.
“Fairy-marked!” the man spat. No, not a man. He was a fairy, or fey, or somehow connected to the world of magic. The world they were now fighting against to save Rosamund. “Who are you?”
Kira’s face held traces of shellshock, but her voice was even as she answered. “I protect him, and if you come against him, you answer to me.”
The fey stood, the skin knitting before their eyes. “Think you so special now? Fairy-marked or not, you are nothing but a weak human. I know him, and once I know you, I’ll destroy you both.”
Seth spoke then. “Why are you after us?”
The shock the fey had experienced was now past—that, or he had schooled himself to hide it away. “If my master curses a princess, he does not wish a mortal fool to try to change that circumstance.”
Seth stepped forward, fists clenched, but Kira’s hand on his arm stopped him. She stared him down and said, “Tell your master to cut his losses and move on now, because nothing will stop us from saving her.”
“So you say, girl, so you say. But just remember—” and the fey stepped back into the woods, with every move becoming more insubstantial, before finally disappearing before their eyes. “Fairies may have blessed you, but they are not allowed to fight for you. When the time comes, it will be you and me, and I—”
The last sight was his sharp, glittering teeth.
“—never lose.”