Beside him Taryn drew in a breath and stopped. She glanced around as if lost. “How far are we going?”
“Not much further.” The place he’d wanted to take her was still a little farther on, perhaps too far for tonight. Another time, maybe. “There is a doorway close by.”
“You won’t leave me there?”
Verden placed his free hand over his heart. “I swear I will not leave you lost, and no harm will come to you while you are with me.”
She searched his face. “Okay.” Her tongue traced her lip. “Where are we?”
“Still in Annwyn, the wilder parts. There are farms farther on, but I don’t go there.” Not anymore. Not since coming to Court and swearing he’d never herd a fairy cow again. People at Court forgot that at the edges of Annwyn fairies lived peaceful, dull lives. They forgot there was a choice beyond the Court or the mortal world.
He stopped in front of a tree with a split up the center just big enough for a man to pass through sideways. He placed his hand on the bark to be sure the gateway was still open and undamaged. The shimmer and ebb of power was there. A collapsed gate felt like a sinkhole. If he found one, he told Felan, so the Prince could seal the wound. It was the Prince’s job to ensure the boundaries between Annwyn and the mortal world were secure. The magic of Annwyn bleeding into the mortal world created problems that usually resulted in death.
Taryn mimicked him. For the first time since he’d seen her this evening, she seemed relaxed. Her face had lost the tension that had edged her eyes. She really didn’t like Court, which was unfortunate, as it could be a lot of fun.
He covered her hand with his. “Do you feel the doorway, the thinning and flux of power?”
She nodded. “Is that how you found it?”
“If you ever come here, or any doorway, and all you feel is a pull like a—”
“Black hole?”
Verden raised his eyebrows. “A what?”
“When a star collapses and its gravity sucks everything in. A black hole.”
He glanced up at the stars and tried to imagine one of them sucking everything in and failed. “If the doorway doesn’t feel like this, don’t use it, as it’s broken.”
“Right, don’t use a broken wormhole.”
Verden looked at her again. “Wormhole?” A doorway to Annwyn was not a hole used by worms.
“I studied physics at school. The doorways are like wormholes, allowing people to cross vast distances in a blink?”
“There is no distance. Annwyn exists in another realm; it overlaps the mortal one and bleeds into it in places.”
“Like the river?”
“Like the river, like the doorways.” He took her hand and led her into the tree, sliding through the gap. “It’s going to be cold on the other side.” Then he stepped through, bracing for the bitter chill. He should have taken her to the other gate.
The wind cut through him as if it were made of frozen razors.
Taryn stepped through and swore. Her body drawing close to him for warmth—for a heartbeat he relished the closeness. But even as he enjoyed holding her, he used the magic he possessed in the mortal world to pull together a cloak of leaves for her and then one for him. The cloak would also absorb some of the blustery wind—not an easy trick but he doubted she’d appreciate just how much magic it took.
“Where the hell are we?” She pulled the cloak around her but still shivered.
“I’m not sure. I know the icecaps are that way, over the ocean.” He pointed to his left. He’d been here a few times. It was wild and remote and no one came here, human or fairy.
Taryn was silent for a moment, strands of her hair whipping around her face. He was half expecting her to ask to be taken back, but she didn’t. She turned and looked around.
It was sunrise, the pink sky against the harsh mountains. She inhaled as if taking in the remoteness. “I don’t think it’s the northern hemisphere.” She plucked a leaf from her cloak and gave it a sniff. “And I don’t think it’s Patagonia or South Africa.”
“Does it matter?”
She nodded. “I like to know where I am. If it doesn’t matter to you, why bring me here and not somewhere else?”
“I like it.” He shrugged. She was right. He could have taken her to a dozen different places but he’d brought her to one of the most remote ones, and one of his favorites. “Why not? Aside from home, where else would you rather go?”
“I don’t know. A city?” She faced him looking hopeful.
“Old doorways. Old places that haven’t been destroyed.” So many doorways had been lost while he’d been Hunter. Humans had spread and multiplied and taken over. Would there be any old doorways left in another couple hundred years?
“Is there somewhere to sit without getting blown away?”
He laughed. “This way.” He led her around the giant gum tree that had been struck by lightning many years ago. Half dead, half alive, Annwyn had claimed it and now it would live for as long as Annwyn stood.
She lifted up the skirt of her dress and followed.
It wasn’t far until they reached a sheltered rock face, but it was far enough that should someone come through after them, it would be unlikely that they found the space he’d made. There was a boulder to sit on and a bottle of wine hidden behind rubble. He tried to keep everything looking as natural as possible. There was no point in coming to enjoy the wildness and then taming it to make it comfortable. When they left, the cloaks would fall apart and compost on the floor of the wilds.
“So, do you come here often?” she said with a smile.
It was hard to judge time when he didn’t spend much of it in the mortal world. Fairies judged by festivals, of which there were eight in a year. “Maybe twice a year.” More frequently of late, simply to avoid talking to people. Lately, Court had lost its luster.
Taryn sat on the rock and he joined her, perching on the edge. Their hips barely touched, yet he was aware of her every move.
“You aren’t too disappointed?”
“Yes and no.” She inhaled and exhaled slowly. “Here I can think and breathe, and I don’t have to watch what I say and who I look at, who I smile at.” She glanced at him. “Or do I?”
He returned her smile in response. She was here for the same reason as him—to escape and be free for a short while. When had he come to feel as though Court was trapping him? Once it had been all he longed for, all he lived for. He glanced at her and hoped she never became like him.
Taryn let her gaze skim over him. Even draped in his leafy cloak, he managed to look good, as if he belonged anywhere he sat. However, she knew there had to be a reason he was being nice to her that went beyond attraction. It was never this simple at Court. She knew that much. Maybe it was an order and he was just too polite to say—more likely he’d lied about the bet.
Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. Yet staying at dinner had held no appeal, and Verden was right that she needed to learn how to play cards so at least the King wouldn’t tire of her. She needed to get in and get out just as fast, before the King’s interested gaze turned to something else. The bet already suggested she’d sleep with the King or the Prince.
Ugh. While pretty like all fairies, the King unnerved her and Felan was just as scary—maybe more so, as when she spoke to him, she couldn’t work him out. All she was seeing was the tip of the iceberg; the rest was so well hidden.
Like Verden. He only showed her the bits he wanted her to see.
She needed to work on that and get to know him better. “Okay, show me the cards again, and let’s see if I can get a handle on this game.” Here she could play without worrying how many were watching.
He pulled the cards out and shuffled them like a pro before dealing. “Do you need me to go through the rules again?”