Beyond the Mountain (Fae's Captive #4) - Lily Archer Page 0,22

movements, maybe give us a chance to break up the ranks before they get too far into the realms.”

Gray grunts.

“Give him a chance.” Valen reaches for the water. “You and Thorn are always so cynical.”

“You’re young.” Gray hands him the canteen. “Too trusting.”

“He’s always been loyal.”

“He shot Thorn in the wing two days ago. Remember that?”

“That was an accident.” Valen shrugs. “Besides, I fixed Thorn right up.”

I lean back against the cold rock as Gray and Valen have the old argument yet again. My thoughts stray to Taylor. Always her. I pray to the Ancestors that she knows I’m coming for her. That whatever horrors she’s seen or endured, I will do everything in my power to make it right, to heal her wounds, to give her whatever she needs, and that I will enact vengeance on those who took her. I can see her, the way her mouth turns up at the corners, the sweet little sounds she makes when she sleeps, the way she fits so perfectly against me, the way she looked when I claimed her. I press my hand to my chest, feeling her loss like a tear in my heart. The bond is silent, but it’s still there. Not severed, not gone, just achingly empty.

“Kingly fae,” Selene calls. “Come up, up, up. I see a way. One even Valen can tread with ease.”

“Thanks.” Valen wrinkles his nose and struggles to his feet, then hands the canteen to Gray. “I’ll go first so you can catch me if I fall.”

Gray snorts. “You have a lot of faith in me.”

“I was talking to Leander.” Valen hoists himself onto the rock face and aims for where Selene clings to the stone, her body upside down and her black eyes glinting.

I pack my thoughts of Taylor neatly away, the edges worn from frequent use and the pages still warm from the last time. She’s never far. I follow Gray, all of us struggling up the steep rock wilderness until we make it to Selene. When I get to her, she’s snoring, yet still clinging to the stone.

“Selene.”

She jolts awake and grins. “I was just chatting with my magic.”

I take Gray’s hand, and he pulls me up onto another, wider ledge. “It tell you anything interesting?”

“Oh, yes!” She follows, clinging to the rock and skittering sideways. “The best news.”

“What news?” Gray’s dark brows lower.

“We’re going to have company.” She jumps down and claps, then points at a crude stone staircase that hews close to the mountainside.

A summer fae appears from the top, her face weary and her steps uncertain. She stops when she sees us, her eyes widening.

Gray pulls his warhammer from his back.

“I’m looking for Leander.” She fixes her gaze on me.

“You’re a lure, female.” Gray jumps across a narrow chasm and lands on the steps below her. “Sent here to destroy us.”

“Does it look like I can destroy anything?” She holds her hands out. The attitude in her voice sounds faintly reminiscent of the way Taylor used to imitate her roommate.

“Wait, Gray.” I jump across. “Who are you?”

“Cecile.”

“What are you doing here?” I peer around for soldiers. This must be a trap. I throw up a quick cloaking spell around us, hiding my warriors from prying eyes.

“The short version? Shathinor kidnapped me, tortured me, used me to get his hands on Taylor, and now I’m pretty much a maid. They treat me like a changeling.” She seems struck by her own words, her face souring. “They treat me like a changeling slave,” she says again, the frown growing deeper.

“What about Taylor?” I grab her arms. “Is she all right? Is she hurt?”

“She’s fine.” Then she hurriedly adds, “Majorly scared, of course. Terrified of Shathinor and the undead and the soldiers and all that.” She waves a dismissive hand. “Worried about you, naturally. She’s sensitive like that. Caring and sweet. Changeling through and through, you know?” She stares at her feet, then continues, “Anyway, she asked me to come take you to her. So that you can save her.”

“It’s a trap,” Gray growls behind me. “Shathinor sent her to entice you to your doom. He knows we’re here.”

“No.” She holds out the necklace, Taylor’s soulstone. “She said you’d be here, could feel you through the bond. I swear she sent me. She told me to give you this.”

Gray advances. “Shathinor could have sent it—”

I take it and turn it over in my palm, warmth pulsing into my skin. The bond. “It’s from her. I can feel her on it.”

“Let’s