CHAPTER NINETEEN

Asterin’s blood boiled as she swung Amoux in a vicious arc, brutally hacking through the lower boughs of a pine tree. Lux snorted beside her, shaking a stray twig free from his mane.

“Northeast from here,” Eadric said from the back of their procession, checking Garringsford’s map.

“How much farther?” Luna asked over the hum of cicadas. She hopped over a rotting log. “The sun is already starting to set.”

“I’d say another half hour, what with all of these blasted branches.”

“I don’t know,” Rose remarked, ducking through the passage Asterin had created. “I feel like Her Royal Highness is doing a pretty decent job of clearing our way.”

“I feel like we should be covering our tracks,” Orion said.

Rose waved a hand. “No worries. Quinlan will take care of it once he finishes moping around.”

Asterin halted so suddenly that Orion stepped on her heels. She whipped the omnistone out of her pocket and flung her arms up into the air with an enraged yell. The hundreds of branches, leaves, and chunks of wood littering the ground behind them rose as one, surging violently into the air like an army of wasps, and jabbed themselves back into place to make the trees behind them whole again.

She panted, expression fixed in a furious scowl, the outraged caws of crows and the fwip fwip of wings filling the air. Only when she turned around to see if her magic had worked did she notice her friends’ stares—but they weren’t directed at her.

“What?” she snarled. “What are you looking at?”

“Me,” a voice called from above. Quinlan dropped down from the forked limbs of a maple tree ahead of them, hitting the ground in a low crouch.

Asterin swiveled back around to find his horse trailing behind Orion’s mare. “How …”

Quinlan strode forward, stopping less than a foot away from where she stood. “I’m here to apologize.” He squinted. “Also, there’s a caterpillar in your hair.”

She punched him in the jaw so hard that her knuckles split open. Quinlan recoiled, yowling, while Orion cheered her on and Luna yelled at the Guardian to shut up. Eadric and Rose just stood off to the side, heads shaking, with identical expressions of parental exasperation on their faces.

Asterin muttered “Haelein,” and elbowed Quinlan aside, her raw and stinging skin already knitting itself back together as she stormed past.

“Hey, I said I was sorry!” he cried, cradling his face, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to follow her. She quickened her pace, but his hand latched onto her wrist and forced her to face him. His brow creased with genuine regret. “I mean it. Truly. You’re right. It wasn’t my place to tell you what to do. I’m sorry.”

“All right.”

His face lit up in a full-dimpled grin. “I’m forgiven?”

She shoved him into a bush—hard—and jogged away.

He was up on his feet in no time, spluttering indignantly. “Princess Asterin! Your Royal Highness!” he called, loping after her. “The most radiant of them all! The most dazzling! Coruscating!”

Orion smacked his forehead. “Describe her, damn it, not a candle!”

“Who uses coruscating to describe a candle?” Rose wondered.

“Scintillating!” Quinlan shouted.

“Shut up!” Against her better judgment, Asterin broke into a run, but thanks to Quinlan’s stupid long legs, it only took him seconds to gain on her. Before she knew it, she was sprinting at full speed, struggling to fight down the hysterical giggles escaping her lips. Branches whipped outward as she tore through the trees, practically blind.

“Splendiferous!” Quinlan shrilled.

Asterin finally burst, howling with laughter—and still running as fast as her legs could carry her, her lungs burning and tears streaming down her face.

But then her stomach plummeted, her laughter turning into a scream as something seized her ankles and yanked her feet out from beneath her. Her vision reeled as she jerked into the air, pine needles stabbing at her from every direction. She heard Quinlan’s startled shout, and after the world stopped spinning, she found him dangling upside down beside her from the next branch over. Her eyes landed on the thick ropes wrapped around both of their ankles.

Quinlan glanced to the ground, some thirty feet below. “Well, that was unexpected.”

Asterin folded her arms over her chest. “You think?” A fall from this height would shatter their bones. “What now?”

He cocked his head and summoned flames to his fingertips. “We free ourselves.”

Asterin realized his intention. “Quinlan, don’t you dare—”

Quinlan ignited the ropes in an explosion of heat. Asterin screamed curses as the rope flashed white, spitting sparks back at them instead of burning. He made a noise of surprise and extinguished the flames.

“Are you out of your damned mind?” Asterin spluttered.

Quinlan frowned at the ropes and said, “They must have been cast with some sort of reflective spell.”

“Your Highness?” a voice called from below before Asterin could snap at him again.

Eadric. “Wait!” she shouted. “Don’t come any closer—”

A flurry of movement and several screams later, Eadric, Luna, and Rose had joined them in the trees, blinking and bewildered. Random limbs poked through the gaps of a thick net, their bodies tangled together and swaying back and forth in the slight breeze.

Eadric made the mistake of looking down. His face took on a greenish tinge. “Oh.”

“Whose hand is that?” Rose demanded, the net rocking to the side as she jostled around. “Get it off my chest immediately.”

Eadric flushed scarlet. “What? Oh, sorry.” A boot connected with the back of his head and smushed his face into the net. “Ow!”

“Oops,” Luna said sweetly. “My bad.”

“Is Orion still down there?” Quinlan asked. “We have to warn him about the trap.”

As if on cue, Orion came into view with their horses in tow. “Hello?”

“Orion!” Asterin yelled. “Don’t move from where you’re standing!”

He froze, slowly lifting his eyes to meet hers. His jaw unhinged. “What in hell? How—” He cut himself off, whirling to the left. “Someone’s coming.”

“Well, don’t just stand there, then!” she exclaimed, head throbbing from staying upside down for so long.

Orion threw his hands into the air. “But you told me not to move!”

“Just go!”

After another second of hesitation, he bolted away and dove behind a tree trunk.

“The horses,” said Eadric.

“Leave them be,” Quinlan said. “We’re stuck here, anyway.”

They heard a rustle and the foliage dangerously close to Orion’s hiding spot parted to reveal a figure sporting a long wool coat. Even from afar, it was clear that he was a hunter—not least from the quiver on his back and the monstrous crossbow in his hand, but from the way he moved. Each precisely placed step reminded Asterin of a panther, lean muscles coiled with powerful tension. He ambled beneath them, silently, as if he had all the time in the world, and tipped his head to the sky to meet Asterin’s stare, that very intimidating crossbow in his hands cocked and aimed straight at her heart.

Asterin swallowed. “Please tell me that you’re Harry.”

A low chuckle, as warm as aged whiskey. “Indeed I am.” The richness of his voice lingered in the air. “And you wouldn’t happen to be Princess Asterin?”

She laughed. “Thank the Immortals, yes.”

He looked them over, puzzled. “I was told that there would be six of you. Did something happen …?”

“Oh, no. Orion is … somewhere over there. Orion, you can come out now!” Asterin called. There was a prolonged silence. “Orion?”

“Sure, just … give me a minute,” came Orion’s muffled answer.

“What’s the matter?” Asterin demanded.

“I’m—I’m stuck.”

“Stuck?” she echoed. “How?”

“There’s this … never mind. Just a moment—” Fabric ripped loudly, and Orion cursed.

“Would you like some help?” Harry asked politely.

“Actually, yeah, I think … yeah, that would be great, thanks.”

Asterin strained to see, craning her neck as Harry walked behind the trunk of a nearby tree and out of view.

There was a crinkling noise and a surprised oomph, followed by a crack and more swearing.

Harry’s voice floated up to them. “Move that knee a bit. May I—”

“Ow,” Orion grunted. “Watch it.”

“Immortals above,” Harry said. More rustling. “Is that okay?”

“That’s okay.”

“I’m going to—”

Orion groaned. “Just do it.”

“If you say so,” Harry said. Another grunt. Asterin couldn’t stand it anymore. She reached over, struggling to grab ahold of the nearest tree limb. Heaving herself up, she angled her body and whirled in a nauseating circle before finally managing to grab onto a limb of the next tree over. Now she could see farther. Her eyes zeroed into the murk behind the tree trunk.

The entire upper half of Orion’s body was firmly lodged into a large hole at the base of the trunk, his posterior sticking high up into the air. Harry had his arms folded around the Guardian’s waist, his chest pressing against Orion’s back, trying desperately to haul him out.

“Immortals,” Harry panted.

“Pull harder, you weak-armed pansy! Harder!”

“But your shirt—”

“Forget my shirt, just get me out of this stupid hole!”

“All right, all right!” Harry exclaimed. With a final tear of fabric, Orion came tumbling out, profanities cascading freely from his mouth, mud clinging to his gracefully tousled hair. His chest was bare, exposing his sculpted torso.

“Well, hello there,” Orion breathed, grinning coyly at Harry’s stunned expression. “And thank you for your help.”

“You’re—you’re welcome,” Harry stammered while bending down to pick up his discarded crossbow, though his eyes seemed permanently glued to Orion’s pectorals. Asterin could see Harry blush even from above.

“Nice to meet you,” Orion said, holding out his hand. “Orion Galashiels, Royal Guardian of Princess Asterin.”

Harry took the hand. “Harry.” The two studied one another for a long moment, hands still joined, lost in their own universe.

“Hell-o-oo!” Rose interrupted at the top of her lungs. “Forgetting something?”

“Oh,” Harry said, reddening even further. “Right, sorry.”

Without warning, he lifted his crossbow in one swift motion and fired. The quarrel severed both ropes ensnaring Asterin and Quinlan, embedding itself in the tree trunk behind them with a thwack.

Asterin’s scream caught in her throat as they fell together. Then Quinlan angled his body and shot toward her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close, a mile-wide grin stretching across his face as his magic washed over them. She squeezed her eyes shut and clutched the front of his tunic for dear life. Her breath caught as a gust of wind caught them just before they crashed into the ground, their toes barely brushing the grass.

Quinlan searched her expression, his hands still clasped behind her. “Are you okay?”

She looked up from his chest. “You’re the worst.”

He winked. “Actually, I think I’m pretty amazing.”

“Pretty, maybe. Amazing, not so much,” she said, releasing his tunic. A surprised laugh escaped his lips. She raised an eyebrow. “Also, you can let go of me now.”

He ducked his head and backed off just as a shriek followed by foul cursing pierced the air, scattering the birds in the trees. They looked up just in time to see three pairs of arms and legs flailing through the holes in the net now plummeting to the ground. Asterin summoned another blast of wind to cushion their fall. Eadric was still swearing as if his life depended on it when she and Quinlan hurried over to help haul the three of them out of the tangled mess of netting.

Eadric rolled onto his side with a groan and promptly vomited into the grass. Luna patted his back while making sympathetic noises. After his heaving ceased, he croaked, “Never again. Please.”

Orion burst out from behind the tree trunk that he had gotten stuck in earlier and surveyed them. “Thank goodness!” he said, his blond curls damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead, and his pupils dilated to black moons. “Is everyone all right?”

Asterin frowned. “What were you doing back there?”

Before her Guardian could reply, however, Harry materialized from the other side of the trunk and cleared his throat. He straightened the lapels of his coat and bowed to her. “Your Royal Highness.”

“Please,” she said, “Asterin is just fine.”

She took the opportunity to observe Harry from close up. He looked far younger than Asterin had guessed from his poise and the sound of his voice alone, with lovely dark-brown eyes and thick lashes crowned by wide brows, and an oval face framed by a soft sheaf of wavy hair the same shade as roasted chestnuts.

He brushed away a thin trickle of perspiration slipping down the coppery skin of his forehead and shot her a grin.

At first glance, especially with that warm smile, Harry appeared gentle, even harmless—but something about his presence made Asterin’s every nerve tingle with caution, and her hand almost twitched toward Amoux.

“I apologize for the traps,” Harry went on to say, “but with the demon rampaging about, I’m sure you understand my vigilance. I’m impressed that you managed to set off the net, though. It can only be triggered by a substantial amount of weight—say, a certain demon. Or … apparently three people simultaneously walking onto it.”

That made her laugh. “We are indeed a talented bunch.” Then she remembered Corinthe and her smile faded. “I don’t suppose you knew Corinthe was attacked?”

Harry shifted uneasily. “How awful. Well, we’d better get moving before night falls,” he said. “Shall we?”

Asterin nodded. “Lead the way.”

As they guided their horses after Harry, Quinlan snuck up to her side. When she ignored him, he tried to play it off by stroking Lux’s mane, but the Iphovien steed almost bit his hand off. He gave up his guise. “Listen, Asterin, I’m still sorry, by the way. I really am. I know that you’re perfectly capable on your own, but … it’s just that you’re a lot more powerful than you think, and if you only had proper training—”

“Training?” Asterin cut in with a scowl. “I’ve had tutors all my life.”

“And did those tutors know what being omnifinitied was like?”

Asterin mulled that over. “I suppose not.” She paused. “Wait, are you offering to train me?”

His lips quirked. “What if I am? Would you accept?”

Her nose wrinkled. “I don’t know.”

“Come on, admit that you need me.” He leaned in close to whisper, “Desperately.”

She scoffed. But then she let herself think about it for a minute. It would be nice to train with someone who actually knew what it meant to be omnifinitied.

Asterin exhaled. “Fine. Thank you. For your help,” she emphasized.

He smirked and then looked over to where Orion and Harry forged ahead at the front of the group. Harry was holding Buttercup’s reins for Orion. “Hey, can I ask you something? Was he chosen?”

“What?”

“Orion. To be your Guardian.”

Asterin nodded and explained. “His bloodline was, two centuries ago. With every new royal child born into the House of the Wolf, there is a Guardian. Orion’s father was my father’s Guardian. My mother married into our House, so she doesn’t have one. Garringsford was assigned to protect her. Usually, there are fallback Guardians, siblings or cousins in case there are … complications. Orion had a baby sister, but they—his sister and mother, I mean—were killed in a raid. Nearly his whole town was annihilated. It was the worst Axarian massacre in over two hundred years.” Her voice softened. “He never talks about it, but I think Corinthe reminded him of it.”

Quinlan worried at his lip. “What about his father? Is he also …?”

“Oh, no. Theodore was given honorable discharge after Orion came of age.” A leaf circled lazily above them and landed in Quinlan’s hair. Asterin had to resist the urge to pluck it out and feel those dark locks between her fingers. She slapped herself mentally and went on. “Theodore lives in the west residential sector, now. Even though my father died a natural death, it was hard on him.” She hesitated. “Well, as natural as an incurable illness could be.”

“I heard about that,” Quinlan said.

“It was some hopeless disease that no one seemed to be able to cure. Priscilla scoured the continent for healers, but nothing helped.” Asterin sighed. “I think it was a mercy, really, when he finally passed. I remember … I was still young, but I remember. They wouldn’t let me see him in the last few days, but, leading up to them, he’d always smile and laugh when I came to visit him. I could see the pain in his eyes, though. He tried to hide it from me … but for months, the illness had been rotting him from the inside out.” She recalled the wracking coughs that had shaken his feeble, skeletal body, the sallowness of his skin. “My father was a big man, but that illness reduced him to nothing but bones.” She turned her face up to the canopy of leaves, greens melting to gray as the last of the daylight dwindled to dusk. “I was glad when it was over for him. I didn’t want him to be in pain.”

Quinlan’s shoulder brushed hers, his brow furrowed. “I’m sorry.”

She huffed a laugh. “I’ve never heard you apologize as many times as you have today. I call that progress.”

He let out a harrumph, yet she got the vague sense that he was secretly pleased by the comment.

“We’re here,” Harry called, putting an end to any further conversation.

They filed after the hunter down a narrow dirt trail, passing beneath the arch of two entwined pine boughs. Asterin paused, nearly causing Rose to crash into her. What if this is a trap? some small part of her wondered. But then Lux nudged her forward, puffing a cloud of hot breath into her hair, so she ducked beneath the trees and stepped into a large clearing basked in the golden glow of a dozen wicker torches.

Her eyes widened at the log cottage sitting in the middle of the clearing, lined with quaint little windows and a bright-red door. Bushy basswood trees and spindly hemlocks towered around the clearing in a near-perfect circle, crowded so densely together that they formed an impenetrable fence of needles and branches. The evening dewdrops clinging to their verdant leaves glittered in the torchlight as the six of them followed Harry up a cobbled pathway, bordered on both sides by grass dotted with white primroses. Tangles of wildflowers and ivy snaked along the eaves and the columns of the front porch in invitation, and a well-tended garden was fenced off to the side, a small barn resting behind it.

“Home sweet home,” Harry announced with a grand flourish, bounding up the porch steps. “We used to keep cows and sheep in the barn, so there are pens for your horses. You can tie them out here for now while you get settled in.” He reached down the collar of his shirt and pulled out an ornate iron key on a leather cord before unlocking the door and beckoning them in. They murmured their thanks as they passed into the snug foyer, sighing collectively at the rush of warmth.

The interior of the cottage was spacious, more so than it had appeared on the outside, and complete with a living room, a dining room, and a kitchen. Each room had a door that connected to the foyer. A staircase on their right led up to what Asterin supposed must have been bedrooms.

Orion bounded eagerly onto the large, worn sofa in the living room, moaning in contentment as he sank into the cushions. “Glorious.”

Rose collapsed beside him and stretched her arms over her head with a sigh.

Harry turned to them with a pleased smile, his hands clasped behind his back. “Please make yourselves at home.”

“This is an enormous cottage,” Eadric said. “Fit for an entire family.” A tiny note of suspicion edged its way into his voice as he asked, “No one else lives here with you?”

“Not anymore, no.” Harry ambled over to the fireplace, feeding firewood into the lively blaze and giving it a few pokes.

“Not anymore?” Luna asked, flopping down onto the paneled wood floor and warming her fingers. Despite the arrival of spring, a chill hung in the air, a lingering promise that winter would return.

“The woodland lifestyle isn’t for everyone,” Harry said with a shrug, propping the iron poker off to the side. “You all rest here, and I’ll go and bring the horses to the back.”

“There’s no need,” said Asterin. “We’ll handle it.” When Eadric started toward the door, she waved him away. “And by we I meant Quinlan,” she amended. “You keep Luna company.”

Eadric grinned. “That, I can accept.” He settled himself onto the floor beside Luna, slinging an arm around her shoulders. She rested her head on his chest and yawned.

Quinlan rolled his eyes but trailed after Asterin toward the front door without complaint.

Harry followed them into the foyer. “I’m going to grab some blankets from the closet,” he said, one hand resting on the banister of the staircase. To the others, he called, “Let me know if you need anything else!”

Orion propped his legs onto the coffee table. “Thanks, Harry!”

“Yes,” Eadric added. “Thank you.” Asterin didn’t miss her captain’s eyes tracking Harry’s retreat up the stairs, his expression darkening.

“Oh, actually, there’s just one thing …” Harry paused in his ascent, ducking down to address them. Eadric’s shoulders tensed as Harry caught sight of his expression, in place for just a second too long. Their host looked away, shifting and running an uncertain hand along the back of his neck. Eadric flushed. “There—there aren’t quite enough beds for everyone. Forgive me, but someone will probably have to sleep on the sofa.”

“No need to apologize,” Asterin assured him. “We’ll sort it out.”

Her mind whirled with plans as she coaxed Lux into the barn. The pens were smaller than the palace stalls, but they could let the horses out in the morning to graze in the clearing. She brushed down Lux while Quinlan unsaddled Eadric’s horse. They worked in comfortable silence, hanging up gear along the barn walls.

Asterin glanced up to find Quinlan smiling at her. “Stop that.” His smile only widened. “Why is it so hard for you to follow orders?”

He crossed his right ankle behind his left and tilted his head. The sky had darkened, but it only made him look softer, smoothed out his edges. “I can follow orders.” He smirked and lowered his voice to that lovely velvety whisper. “Just tell me what you want. Anything at all.”

It was exactly what she hoped he would say. “Oh?” Her grin of triumph caused his smirk to falter slightly. “In that case, I order you to accept the fate of sleeping on the sofa.”

Quinlan exhaled and trudged out of the barn. “Well played, Your Highness. Well played.”