time he looked over. His face twisted manically with panic. Had the situation been different, she might’ve even found the look they exchanged comical. She raised an eyebrow at Garin and let her right foot linger half a second longer on the ground; as she knew he would, Garin picked up on it right away. He then took the utmost caution in mirroring her slowed pace so that they both fell one unnoticeable step behind the guards.
Instead of answering, Garin shook his head, side to side, just enough for her to pick up. When one of the guards suspiciously snapped his head back at them, Lilac pretended to be preoccupied with picking pine needles from her messy braid.
Garin rolled his eyes.
The woods were silent throughout the rest of their journey with the exception of the satisfying crunch of footfall upon dry brambles, and the steady clink of sword and dagger awkwardly brushing on Garin’s baldric belt. A couple times she actually toyed with the idea of reaching over and retrieving her blade—one swift, upward movement and she’d at least have some means of self-protection on her person again. Lilac finally decided against it; after all, she’d wielded the stealth and skill of a slotted spoon. Garin had forgotten to return it to her upon their intimate farewell, and understandably so. She didn’t blame him.
Lilac nearly tripped over herself when the guards came to a sudden halt; Garin let out a breath so low it could’ve been an annoyed growl. The last thing they needed was another bleeding gash across her skin.
The four of them stood under the cover of a timeworn weeping willow. Lilac didn’t even know those grew in the area. A leaf-carpeted path paved the way to the opening of a sizable hollow in the tree’s gargantuan trunk.
“What is this place?” Garin demanded of the guards. His voice was unusually sharp. “Well? Where is it, then? Where’s the Court?”
His breath hitched on his words, and Lilac wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or cower from whatever he was anticipating. Garin was nervous.
Ignoring the urgency in his voice, they motioned silently toward the hollow. Lilac shot Garin a look, but he ignored it.
Instead, he cocked his head and led the way into the hollow, making sure the princess was close behind.
The moment they were alone and shrouded in darkness, Lilac turned to him to whisper. “Should we make a run for it?”
“What is this ridiculous obsession you have with running from things that can easily catch up to you?” he growled under his breath. “We‘ll need a better plan.”
“Did you tell them about me?” Her deep blue eyes searched his furiously.
He grimaced at the accusation lacing her voice. “It’s guaranteed the entire kingdom knows you’re missing by now, and with the search ongoing, word could’ve easily spread through the trees. The Fair Folk probably just want to extend formali—”
The first guard entered and wedged himself forcibly between them, his torchlight revealing a surprisingly roomy chamber within the trunk. “Cease that muttering immediately. The Ember Court awaits,” he said coldly. The other guard stepped in and promptly raised his torch to the vines of dry bramble and cobweb lining the ceiling.
The motion was so fluid, Lilac didn’t see it coming. Neither did Garin. By the time they’d realized what had happened, it was too late.
The vines ignited instantly. Brilliant blue flames climbed down the sides of the hollow, quickly catching on the dry surface. The flames licked up and down the wood, rapidly creating a veil over the opening.
Lilac swallowed hard, fear crowding her.
They were trapped. Lilac swallowed hard, fear crowding her.
“Fucking hell!” Garin bellowed, grabbing the guard nearest him by the front of his uniform.
But the faeries remained expressionless. With a frustrated roar, Garin tore himself from the creature and instead moved to wrap his arms over Lilac, who gladly accepted his cover—even in front of the guards.
In a mere matter of seconds, they were completely engulfed. Through the cerulean blaze, Lilac’s mind cleared just enough to first take note of the strange lack of smoke—and the fact that they weren’t burning. The flames themselves didn’t scorch. Instead, she felt a pleasant prickling sensation that merely rolled over her skin.
Behind her, she felt Garin untense from his crouching position. He blinked and turned his hands over, marveling at the blue flickering over his arms.
As quickly as the hollow had combusted, the cocoon of flames abruptly dissipated. The fire was then quickly replaced by an unfurling cloud of indigo