Voices came from the guards. “We can’t stay here forever,” one of them said.
The other didn’t respond right away. “We have our orders. The girl must be awake for the journey. And we cannot leave until given the order to march.”
“What if she doesn’t wake up? We don’t know what happened to her out there.”
The second guard shrugged. “We will deliver her to the palace whether she lives or not.”
Lives or not. There words were so cold, Brea realized they must mean to bring her back to her aunt. After everything, she refused to go back there. What would they do to her after she ran?
She’d made it this far. Neeve’s words came back to her. “Don’t stop until you reach Eldur.”
She couldn’t give up now.
Sparing one more glance for the tent flap and the guards beyond, she pulled her knife free and scooted across the bed to the back of the tent. Gripping the thick material in her shaking fingers, she stabbed the tip of the blade into it and sawed, cutting a line down the tent.
When the slit was big enough, she stuck her head through. Water wicked into her eyes as it streamed down her hair into her face. She glanced up at the stormy sky, hoping the deluge would hide her escape.
She couldn’t make out her surroundings and didn’t know which way to go, but she’d figure that out once she was away from these Fargelsian soldiers. Gripping her knife tightly, she slipped through the opening and jumped to her feet. Pumping her legs, she sprinted as fast as she could for the trees.
Shouting erupted behind her, but she didn’t stop no matter how much her burning legs ached for it. Weakness vibrated through her, but she didn’t give into it. She couldn’t.
Solid ground turned to mud underneath her feet. As more soldiers shouted for her to stop, she had to keep going, wading into the swirling goo. It rose up around her legs the deeper she got, refusing to let her go. By the time the mud reached her thighs, she couldn’t move.
A cry left her lips as she tried to free herself, only managing to get deeper into the mud. A snake slithered by her legs, and she stabbed at it with her knife, flicking it away from her. It hissed and left her alone. This was it. She was going to die stuck in mud in a foreign world as soldiers chased after her during a storm.
She lifted her face to the rain as it broke through the tree cover. “I’m sorry, okay? Whatever I did to deserve this, I didn’t mean it.” She slapped her arm. “Brea Robinson, if there was ever a time to wake up, this is it.” Some small part of her still hoped this was a nightmare, a horrid and all-too-real nightmare.
“Don’t move!” a voice boomed out of the dark.
“Good thing I can’t, then!” she yelled back. “You’re lucky I’m stuck in mud or you’d have never caught me.”
In reality, her escape was doomed from the start. She was a half-human girl who only ran when being chased, not for any sort of exercise. Yeah, she was screwed.
“Stay there.”
“Already told you I have no choice.” Rain pounded into the mud harder and harder as her heart rate kicked up. Whatever Gelsi held for her was better than dying right here.
“Reach out,” the voice commanded. “As far as you can.”
She grappled in the dark, trying to find something to hold onto as she bent toward the voice. Her hand touched flesh, and she reached her other one out, gripping the man’s hand with both of hers, their fingers slick against each other.
“I’m going to pull you out.”
He tugged on her hands, and another set of hands clamped down underneath her armpits, lifting her as the other man pulled.
“Don’t let go!” someone yelled.
“Not planning on it.” Relief flushed through her as her legs came free little by little.
An arm wrapped around her waist and hauled her the rest of the way. She almost cried when her feet hit solid ground.
“I could kiss you right now!” she yelled at one of the soldiers over the rain.
“My Lady.” He jumped away from her, thoroughly scandalized.
Brea didn’t have the energy to laugh. She rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself to her knees as she tried to catch her breath.
Without waiting for permission, one of the soldiers lifted her into his arms and walked back through the trees. He didn’t speak until they reached the tent she’d escaped from.
He set her down, his aged face marred by a scowl. “Stay here.”
Turning on his heel, he marched away.
Brea looked around the tent, thankful for its semi-safe surroundings. She sat down on the bedroll, her entire body shaking with cold. Water streamed down her back, but it didn’t matter because the bed was already soaked from the rain entering through the slit she’d cut. She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself, until commotion sounded outside her tent.
A man walked in, his lips forming a smile that did not belong in this moment. “Well, my Lady, you have caused quite a stir.”
She shrank away from him. “What do you want from me?”
He removed his helmet, revealing a face even younger than she’d thought. He couldn’t have been much older than her. “I believe I should be the one asking questions. My men found you unconscious in the middle of the marshy Vatlands. No one travels the Vatlands alone except for one reason.”
“What’s that reason?”
“Tell you what, I will give you some answers, if you do the same. Let’s start with a name.”
“Breanne of Tarth,” she blurted before she could stop herself. Something prevented her from giving her real name.
He nodded as if that was a perfectly plausible name. “Tarth, is that a Gelsi province?”
She nodded.
“Well, Breanne, you’re safe here.” This time, his smile reached his eyes. He had a face one wanted to trust, but then, so had Griff. “My name is Finn. The only brave souls who traverse the Vatlands on their own are those who manage to escape the Fargelsian queen.”
“You’re not…” She sucked in a breath. “You aren’t taking me back there?”
He reeled back as if she’d slapped him. “No. Why would we do that? These men are stationed near the border to intercept those fleeing tyranny just like you. I am only here because my traveling companion has been waiting for someone.” He eyed her carefully. “How did you escape Gelsi?”
“I had help.” She didn’t want to reveal Neeve’s identity.
Finn rubbed his jaw. “Yes, well, even still… do you know of the border spell?”
He didn’t wait for her to respond. “Those with full Fargelsi blood are forbidden from crossing the border by the queen. Her magic keeps them there unless she releases them.”
Neeve had explained all this before, but it hadn’t really hit Brea then. That was why Neeve couldn’t come. Everything Brea knew about her aunt flashed through her mind. She’d known she was manipulative, but would she really go to such lengths to keep her power? To keep her people imprisoned?
Did Griff know? She wanted to believe he was just naive in all this, but she didn’t know him, not like she’d thought she did.
“I’m not…” What had she meant to say? She wasn’t a full Fargelsian fae? She wasn’t fae at all? No matter who her father was, she didn’t belong in that world.