I awakened to the sound of crashing waves. The moment I opened my eyes I slammed them shut again. The bright light, even on a day as cloudy as all the others had been, made my head throb. I kept them shut, letting them adjust, listening to the constant slap of waves against the shore, hearing the cry of gulls, breathing in the smell of brine.
When at last I could open my eyes I lay there, picking at the peeling paint of the wall I’d slept up against. Right above that were thirteen jagged lines I’d carved with a sharp rock from the shoreline. I fumbled around to find the rock and marked another line at the end. Fourteen days. Two weeks since I’d been here. Two weeks since I’d woken up on the shore of a beach outside a fishing village in what I was pretty sure was Norway. Two weeks since my entire life and everything in it had come crashing to the ground.
Just like the Dark Prince’s castle.
I shook my head to clear the dream. I’d had a lot of dreams like that lately, but none quite so vivid. It had almost seemed like I actually had been talking to the Dark Prince. I wasn’t sure how much use it’d been. Even in my dreams, he’d been as venomously angry as in real life.
At last I convinced myself that I couldn’t lie around here all day. There were things I had to do. Things I needed to do if I wanted to stay alive.
I pushed myself off the pile of old newspapers I used as a bed and stumbled to my feet, grabbing Valkyrie as I went. Every part of me hurt, as it had every morning here. The ache in the chest was the worst. It was like a bruise, but deeper, like someone had reached their hand in and gouged out part of what made me whole.
That wasn’t far from the truth.
I braced myself against the crusted-over lightbulb in the center of the lantern room and stumbled quickly to the stairs. Too late I realized my mistake. My head spun. I leaned over the railing and vomited up what little I’d eaten since yesterday morning, mixed with blood and bits of black bile. The splattering it made as it hit the ground far, far below snapped me back to reality. I needed to be more careful. I had trouble handling sudden movements first thing in the morning. My body wasn’t what it used to be.
I gingerly made my way down the steps and outside, taking a moment to walk to the edge of the cliff and look down at the beach below. The Norwegian sea was a churning dark gray this morning. Most of the boats from the village were already out on the water, some of them coming back with the haul they’d bring to the market. I saw a scuttle of red out of the corner of my eye.
“Hey, Pinch.”
The crab had been here the very first day I’d arrived at the lighthouse, and had greeted me every morning. I was sure that actually looking forward to seeing him was probably a certifiable mental condition, but right now I needed all the help I could get.
“Sleep well?” I asked. Pinch rubbed his eyestalks. First one, then the other. His mouth fluttered.
“Glad one of us did. We still in danger of sinking into the sea?”
To answer my own question, I looked back at the condemned lighthouse I’d claimed as my home. It sat a mile outside the village, with only a single road leading to it that nobody seemed to travel. I’d translated the sign pasted over the door I’d knocked down; apparently they’d closed it because it was one good storm away from crumbling into the sea.
There was almost a poetic justice in that.
My stomach rumbled. Already I could feel myself growing tired, even after just waking up. I needed food. And I needed my medicine.
“Hold down the fort while I’m gone,” I said to Pinch, and took off toward the village.
I wasn’t sure how I’d arrived here. Zephyr had opened a portal to the Twilight Realm, not Norway, but I figured that when he’d died the magic leaving him had warped the portal somehow. My only other explanation was when Kasia cast me through she’d changed the portal’s final location.
That sounded too crazy, even for her. As conflicted as she might have been, she’d wanted me dead. Good and finally dead.
The worst part of this wasn’t the fact that I was so weak, or the constant aching in my chest, or even the fact that I was pretty sure I was dying. It was the not knowing. I had no idea if Asher and my friends were okay. No idea what General Zell had done to the Academy. No idea whether Kasia had attacked it already and everything I knew—everything I’d left—was already gone.
I turned off the lighthouse road and onto the main stretch of asphalt leading into town. So far my luck had held and nobody had stopped to question why I was walked from the lighthouse every morning, or walked toward it every night. I gave a jerky nod to a man passing in his car. He just stared. I returned my gaze to my feet and picked up the pace.
I hadn’t told anybody who I was. I wasn’t even sure if there were Supes living this remote, and I sure as heck didn’t know who I could consider a friend. I may have even been considered a fugitive to the paranormal coalitions of Europe. There could be Supes out hunting for me right now.
When I’d first had that thought I’d tried to laugh it off, but it kept coming back, until I had to admit it was a strong possibility. The Prince of the Fae is killed, and I vanish. Things didn’t get much more suspicious-looking than that.
At last I reached the edge of town and leaned briefly on one of the road signs to catch my breath. Small movements didn’t over-exert me too much, but with each passing day it was getting harder and harder to do anything big. I remembered it’d taken Nolan a week to be able to stand. He’d said losing my god would kill me, and I knew it was. But whether it was spite or toughness, I wasn’t dead yet. And I’d keep myself alive for as long as I could. Long enough to…
I wasn’t sure what. Return home? Stop Kasia? That was surely impossible by now. But I couldn’t give up. Not while my friends and family were out there. Not while there was still a little hope.
But first, I needed food.
I found the small bakery on the corner I’d been going to the last few days and bought some bread and cheese with the dwindling money I’d stolen through the open window of one of the houses on the beach. I didn’t feel great about it, but I had little other choice.
Next stop was the town’s small pharmacy. The grizzled old man behind the counter gave me the stink eye the second I walked in.
“Tilbake for mer?”
I casually touched my fingers to my lips and whispered the translation spell. I felt a wash of weariness from casting even that simple spell, but his Norwegian became clear.
“I haven’t got any of that other stuff you were going on about last time,” the man continued grouching. He waved his hand at the shelves of basic medical supplies behind him. “Wormroot and whatever klaksaw is.”
“That’s fine,” I said. I’d been able to find suitable substitutes for my potion by simply wandering the shoreline. “I think you have everything else.”
Under his scrutinizing gaze, I quickly grabbed a bag of cough drops, a packet of medicinal herbs in a small sack cloth I’d learned some of the fisherman carried for good luck, and capsules of a painkiller I didn’t need a prescription for. I told myself it was just because I wasn’t from around here that he was giving me such a funny look, but I had an uncomfortable feeling this attitude was more hostile than it’d be to a wayward tourist.
I brought my items to the counter. The man continued staring at me for an uncomfortable amount of time before beginning to ring them up.
“Never got whereabouts you’re from,” he said.
“Visiting my grandpa on vacation,” I said, the lie coming to me easily. “Not sure how long I’ll be here.”
“Is that so?”
I nodded, then doubled-over with a cough. When I came back up, his eyes were narrowed on my right arm. The jacket sleeve had slipped down just a bit, revealing the dirty bandages I’d wrapped there, covering the black marks that hadn’t vanished even after the Dark Prince was gone. “Is that so?” he repeated.
I tapped the items. “Can you just finish with these, please?”
The man continued staring for a moment too long, then rang up the last of the items. I handed over the money—pretty much all I had left—and snatched the bag from his hand with a curt ‘Thanks’.
“I’d watch yourself if I were you,” the man said.
I looked back at him. He’d crossed his arms. “People ‘round here don’t like a lot of strangers. Specially not those bringing as many questions with them as you have.”
An uncomfortable chill ran down my back. “I’ll remember that. Thanks.”
I pushed out the door before he could give me any more unwanted advice. I felt that uncomfortable sensation of being watched again as I walked down the street toward the shore. More villagers watching. Two at the corner. One from his front yard.
I pulled up the collar of my jacket and turned away. They were only curious, that was all. I had nothing to be worried about.
I knew I was lying to myself.
I spent the rest of the day gathering the remaining materials for the pain killing potion, then sat on the rocky shore mixing it together. It’d been one of the few mixtures I’d actually been able to remember from Master Yarrow’s potions class. The pasty liquid tasted like rancid milk as I forced it down my throat, but it helped the pain some. I knew it wasn’t healing me. There was only one thing that could do that, and Kasia had him.
A few times I felt eyes on me from the direction of the village, but each time I’d turned I hadn’t spotted anyone. Still, while I lounged in the sporadic bursts of sunlight, trying to rest as much as I could, I kept one eye partially open. Surely it was just some curious villager wanting to get a closer look at the foreign girl.
I lay there until the sun started to dip and I had to pull myself up and head back toward the lighthouse. I felt a little better than I had that morning. On the horizon I could see the dark swells of storm clouds gathering. I again considered whether sleeping in a lighthouse that’d been condemned for nearly crumbling into the sea was the best place to stay tonight, but then, what other choice did I have?
I didn’t notice the group following until I’d nearly reached my turnoff.
Maybe it was the constantly lapping waves that muffled their footsteps, or the fact that my senses were dulled with fatigue. They stayed about fifty yards back, not initially threatening. I kept waiting for them to turn off. They could have been a work group heading to one of the fishing cottages lining the other side of the shore.
I wished I was that lucky.
I held my breath as I started down the path to the lighthouse. They followed, and a sinking feeling settled in my stomach. This needed to end. Now.
I turned back to them. The group hesitated at first, then approached until there was less than ten yards between us.
“Can I help you?” I said, hand casually staying near my jacket where I held Valkyrie.
The man in the lead stepped forward. In the dim light, I could still make out the sharp point of his jaw, the wolfish snout as his form morphed from human to something not. My blood ran cold.
Shifter.
“We found out what you are, little witch,” the shifter said. “Seen you stalking around our place. Seen you living on our lands.”
“I lost some money few nights back.” Another stepped forward, the light from his spell illuminating the glower on his face. “That was you, wasn’t it, little witch?”
“I’m not a witch,” I blurted out. “I’m a spellslinger. It’s a bit different…”
“See, we don’t like Supes of any kind on our turf,” the shifter went on as though I hadn’t spoken. He took a step forward. I took a step back before grinding my feet into the ground. I couldn’t show them any fear. Supes like this preyed on fear.
“I didn’t mean to invade your turf,” I said in as neutral a tone as possible. “I just needed a place to stay. I’ll leave tomorrow.”
“You’ll leave now,” the man with the spell said. He flung it at me and I barely managed to dodge aside as it whizzed past. Valkyrie was out in an instant. Only this time, the ease at which I usually summoned the magic blade didn’t come. It took more concentration than usual, and still the blade looked weaker to me than ever before.
I held it out in front of me in warning. Hopefully it’d be solid enough for these guys. “I’ll leave now,” I said. “Let me pass.”
The shifter shook his head, chuckling. “Not happenin’. We’ll escort you.”
Then he lunged. Thanks to my weakened state, if I hadn’t been watching for the telltale signs of an imminent attack he might have hit me. As it was, I was able to step to the side. The next Supe cast a spell, but I threw myself to the ground, pushing magic into the earth.
“Humak!”
The ground split beneath their feet, the force of the spell temporarily winding me. I sliced as another shifter went for my throat. Valkyrie caught him and he backed off, whimpering.
“Just get around her, you idiots!” the lead shifter barked. “And someone grab that stupid glowing swor—”
I heard the whistling sound before I saw the shifter go deathly still. The light of life left his eyes and he pitched forward, a knife protruding from his back. Someone else stood behind him. I could see the glamour of magic oozing off him.
Fae. And he was looking right at me, murder in his eyes. “The girl is mine.”
Dragon spit.