Realm of Mirrors (The DeathSpeaker Codex Book 3) (20 page)

I am the son of Moirehna, the sole heir to the throne. Remember, brother?

And I knew why Cobalt said that Uriskel might have a way to get us out.

“Holy hell,” I said. “The Unseelie Queen is—”

“I’d greatly prefer you did not mention that,” Uriskel growled. “There are few who know, and I’ve no wish for it to become common knowledge.”

“All right,” I said carefully. “Consider it not mentioned.”

“Thank you. Now, I suggest you both rest while you can. We’ve still quite a journey ahead of us.” He stood, grabbed his pack and walked a few feet away, then sat down with his back turned.

Sadie stared at me. “What the hell was that about?” she whispered.

“I guess he’s got some family issues,” I replied in kind.

“Yeah, join the club.” She shrugged and stretched her arms over her head. “Maybe we should get some sleep,” she said. “Or try to, anyway.”

Unfortunately, I doubted that was going to happen.

A few hours later, I was unhappy to learn that I’d been right. No way was I getting to sleep.

I sat up slowly from the ground, trying not to disturb Sadie. At least one of us was resting. Uriskel was stretched out at a distance. I couldn’t tell if he was asleep, but he didn’t seem to notice when I stood and walked slowly away from the fire. Or maybe he didn’t care.

Good thing I knew he wasn’t as heartless as he wanted everyone to think, or I would’ve been pissed.

We’d passed a small stream just before we made camp. I headed that way, thinking I’d get a drink and try to wash up a little. Maybe the filth helped us blend in, but I wasn’t in the mood to be this…wild.

It reminded me too much of the Valentines.

Bathing only happened after a hunt, and the hunts usually lasted for days, or weeks. The dirtier everyone was, the better they could hide the scent of human from their prey. And since all the nasty jobs fell to me, I’d spend the majority of my time smeared stiff with blood, dirt, entrails, and shit of every variety.

That was probably why I’d developed a two-shower-a-day habit once I got away from them. And I was itching to get this crap off me.

The stream was maybe three feet wide and about as deep, fast-running but not whitewater rapids speed. Crystal clear water revealed a stream bed of smooth, loose rocks, and thick grass-like plants with dark blue stalks grew to a height of four or five feet along the opposite bank. But this side was clear.

I knelt beside the stream, splashed water on my face, and drank until my stomach was tight. Then I plunged my hands into the cold flow and tried to rub some of the grime away. It didn’t come off easy. But I did the best I could with my exposed skin, including my face and neck.

While I was here, I figured I’d try to wash the shirts, at least. The wild Fae had torn through both of them with his claws, and they were crusted with dirt and blood—mine, and his. I wanted that off, at least. I removed the tunic and the long-sleeved shirt beneath, hesitated a minute, and plunged them both in the stream. They’d dry eventually.

Just as I finished wringing them out, a voice behind me said, “I thought your tattoos were supposed to glow.”

“Damn it, Sadie!” I held my breath until my heart crawled out of my throat, and then let it out slowly. “Would you
please
learn to make some noise.”

“I’m sorry.” At least she sounded like she meant it this time. I heard her footsteps as she walked up beside me and crouched by the stream. “Seriously, though,” she said. “They’re not glowing.”

I managed half a smile. “I guess that means I’m not almost dead, and you’re not here to harm me.”

“Right on both counts.” She let out a sigh and trailed a hand in the water, staring intently at the opposite bank. “I take it you couldn’t sleep?” she said.

“Not even a little.”

“I think I was dozing. Not sleeping, exactly. I heard you get up.” She still wouldn’t look at me. I wondered what was wrong, besides the obvious, until she said, “Aren’t you going to get dressed? I know you don’t like people…looking at you.”

“Oh.” I shook out the shirt and pulled it on, shivering a little as the frigid dampness slapped against my skin. “Better?”

“Gideon.” She turned slowly to face me. “It’s not me with the problem,” she said. “Don’t you know that?”

“Yeah, I get it. It’s not you. It’s me.”

“You’re not ugly.”

Hell if I wasn’t. But this was not a conversation I wanted to have, so instead of challenging her, I struggled back into the damp, heavy tunic and got to my feet. “If you want a drink or something, go ahead. I’ll wait,” I said. “It’s probably better if we walk back together.”

She tilted a look at me, and then stood with a determined expression. “Gideon, you are
not
your scars.”

“Damn it, I’m not doing this,” I said. “You don’t know shit about it, and—”

“I would if you told me.”

“—and I want to keep it that way!” I couldn’t stand glaring at her for long, so I dropped my gaze to the ground. “Do you think I
want
you to know my pathetic story? To believe that every time you look at me, you probably want to cry, or puke?” I managed to lift my head. “Because for a long time that’s all I could think when I looked in a mirror, or took a shower, or changed my clothes. I never wanted anyone to look at me, at
this
, and have to carry the burden of
why
. That’s my goddamn burden. And there is no fucking why.”

“All right,” she said shakily. “But just so you know, that’s what friends are for. To help carry the burden.”

I blew a frustrated breath. Hurting her, scaring her—that wasn’t my intention. She was scared enough as it was. “Look, I just…they were hunters.” I couldn’t believe I was telling her anything, even as the words left my mouth. “The family I grew up with, the one I thought actually was my family,” I said. “Not weekend hunters, but full-time, big-game poachers dealing in the black market. They lived in a camper caravan and moved around constantly. Across the country, up into Canada, down to Mexico a few times. Anywhere dangerous and untamed, where normal people wouldn’t go. Kind of like Arcadia.” I paused, trying to unclench my jaw. “And they hated my guts. Every last one of them.”

She bit her lip. “Gideon, I’m sor—”

“Please. Don’t be sorry. That’s the last thing I want.” Now I felt bad for basically saying I didn’t want to be here, because it wasn’t true. The landscape was never my problem. “We’re going to find him, Sadie,” I said. “I promise we’ll get him back.”

“Oh God, don’t promise.” With a small smile, she reached out and brushed her fingers along the side of my face. Her touch practically burned me. “It might kill you,” she half-whispered. “And I couldn’t stand to lose you, too.”

Christ, this was not good. I couldn’t come up with a thing to say—and if I didn’t start talking, I was going to do something monumentally stupid. Like kiss my brother’s girlfriend while he was off being tortured.

Before I could start babbling something, anything to break me from looking into her eyes and wanting her, we were interrupted by something equally bad. A rustling-grass sound from somewhere behind me, followed by a sharp splash.

Sadie stepped back with a gasp, her horrified gaze rooted to whatever made the noise. And I really didn’t want to look.

“Oh my God,” she choked out. “Taeral!”

C
HAPTER 28

I
was moving the instant his name left her lips.

It was him. Barely conscious and without his glamour, shirtless and shoeless, missing his arm, and so badly beaten that just looking at him was physically painful—but alive. Breathing.

He’d landed half in the stream with his face barely above water. I jumped in without hesitation, got behind him and wrapped both arms around his torso, wincing in sympathy at all the ways I was probably hurting him. But he didn’t so much as flinch.

Sadie was in the water before I finished lifting him. Tears streaked her face, and she moaned as she went for his legs. “We’re going to make him worse, just touching him,” she said. “Oh, God, those
bastards.
”

“I know. But we can’t let him drown.”

Between us, we maneuvered him carefully to the clear side of the stream. “Should we put him down here?” Sadie whispered.

I wanted to. But we’d be safer by the fire—if there was anywhere safe in these woods. “No,” I said. “We have to get him back.”

She nodded reluctantly and shifted her grip, easing an arm beneath his knees to put less pressure on him. “Let’s go, then.”

It took a lot longer than I wanted to make the distance to camp. We had to move slowly, try not to jostle him. Taeral’s body remained rigid as stone the entire time, every muscle constantly vibrating. He didn’t open his eyes or make a single sound.

The instant we were in sight of the banked fire, Uriskel was on his feet and striding rapidly toward us. “What’s happened?” he called. “Tell me you did not run into—” He came to an abrupt halt when he was close enough to see what we carried. “Is that Taeral?”

“Yeah,” I said. “He’s alive.”

Without a word, Uriskel scooped him effortlessly from us, then turned and carried him back to the fire at twice the speed we’d managed.

Okay, so he was cranky, powerful, and strong as a bull too.

Sadie and I rushed to catch up as Uriskel knelt and laid him gently on the ground. Then he sent an angry glare over his shoulder. “Was he followed?”

That wasn’t a question I expected. “Um, no,” I said. “There wasn’t anyone else.”

“You’re certain of this.”

“He was alone! What’s
wrong
with you?” Sadie narrowed her eyes and rushed to Taeral’s other side, taking a knee beside him. “Did you even look at him?”

“Aye, I did,” Uriskel said evenly. “So tell me…how could he have possibly escaped the dungeon in this condition? Unless they allowed him to, so they could follow him.”

Everything he said was logical, and it was something we really needed to consider. But it still pissed me off. I didn’t
want
to give a damn how he got here—I just wanted to be grateful that he had. “Look, it’s just him,” I said. “And even if he was followed, and they’re waiting to jump us right now, what do you want to do about it? Leave him here and run?”

For a second, I thought I saw just that in his eyes. Then he surrendered and straightened with a heavy sigh. “Heal him, if you can,” he said. “I’ll be out casting wards. For all of eternity.” He shook his head, turned on a heel and stalked away, muttering something under his breath about trying to ward the entire Unseelie Wood.

Considering the circumstances, I thought he’d taken it pretty well.

I’d used up most of my spark and all the energy stored in the moonstone twice, but Taeral was still unconscious.

At least he looked a little less like a prop corpse from the world’s most sadistic horror movie. His breathing was a bit more natural, his body relaxed, and some of the bruising and swelling had gone down. Sadie had tried to dab the blood off with one of her t-shirts and water from the canteen, but she couldn’t bear to do it for long, in case he felt it.

Now she sat on the ground holding his hand. I was on his other side, and Uriskel huddled across the fire from us, slowly building the flames back up. He must’ve decided to only cast wards for part of eternity.