White Hart (23 page)

“We have to think of a way in first,” I say, pulling at my hair in frustration. “If they know I’m from Halts-Walden and that I have the prince with me, they will know we intend to free Ellen. They know the prince is her intended, and they know what they did in my village.” I close my eyes, trying not to think of that terrible sight in the Fallen Oak. To my surprise, a rough hand slips into my own. I open my eyes to find Cas squeezing my fingers. He drops my hand, and his cheeks flush. I clear my throat and turn to Sasha. “Will they recognise you straight away?”

“I know some of the guards,” she replies. She pauses for a moment and then adds, “One is quite taken with me.”

“Could you tell them you’ve brought new recruits to the camp?” I ask.

“They rarely let others in,” she says. “I would have to vouch for you, which would be fine, but I think someone would recognise Cas as the Crown Prince of Aegunlund.”

“Yes, that could be a problem,” Cas admits. “Father was always insistent about distributing my portrait to all and sundry. He thought it would make me appear more powerful. Of course, it also means every potential kidnapper in the realm knows my face.”

“Maybe we could let Cas in after we’ve made it into the camp?” I suggest.

“Someone would see it. It would raise suspicion.” Sasha stares down at her diagram with her head in her hands.

“What about a disguise?” Cas suggests. “I mean, I don’t look much like me right now, anyway. My clothes are ripped and ragged. I’m dirty and scruffy as a beggar.” He rubs the smattering of stubble on his face that has formed during our stay in the forest. It does make him look slightly older, and it’s slightly darker than his natural hair colour.

I gasp. “Bricken tree leaves!”

Sasha stares at me with her brow furrowed in confusion. “What about them?”

“If you boil the leaves, it creates a brown dye. We can dye Cas’s hair brown, and with his beard—well, almost beard, hmm, more of a moustache maybe—he won’t look at all like the crown prince.”

“Hey,” Cas says in protest, “I have more than a moustache here.” He strokes his chin in indignation.

Sasha’s eyes widen in excitement. “Plus with a hood and some yellow dye on his teeth, he would look like a beggar. It’s perfect!”

“That’s how we’re going to get in,” I say. “But how are we going to get Ellen out?”

Further discussion brings up nothing else of worth, and we decide to settle down for the night. I sleep next to Anta, his fur keeping me warm. The nearer we get to the people who killed Father, the more those thoughts of revenge slip back into my mind. I grasp hold of the locket around my throat, wondering what he would make of my journey here.

I try to think of Finn and his sacrifice for me. He didn’t lose his life for me so I could kill another. I focus on that disappointed look he gave me when I revealed my plan to the prophetess. He had thought I was better than I am.

The next morning, we follow the path, keeping look out for a bricken tree. When we find one, Sasha collects water while Cas and I pick the leaves. It means I get to climb again, and I’d forgotten the thrill you can get from climbing high into a tree and then looking down at the world below. Some might find it terrifying; I find it relaxing.

But all I can think about are the visions the Nix showed me. A shiver runs down my spine when I remember what I was about to do in the vision. It’s so abhorrent to me that I can’t even contemplate it. Yet, I was about to... end my own life.

As I climb back down with the bricken leaves, Cas helps me the last few steps. The touch of his hand on my arms brings those images flooding back, and I pull away from him. He frowns in confusion, but as he’s about to speak, I stop him.

“We’d best boil these. I don’t know how long it will take to change your hair colour.”

It’s enough to distract him. “How long will it last for?” he asks. “Am I going to have brown hair forever?”

I don’t actually know, so I just shrug. “Maybe. Do you want to back out?”

He snorts. “Of course not. I don’t care about my hair. I used to, but not anymore. People are more important.”

“You mean Ellen,” I say.

“No, people in general. You’ve taught me that.” He places a hand on my arm, but I shrug it away. Why does he insist on touching me if I’m just a friend to him? Why doesn’t he see the effect it has on me?

“Come on,” I say, before he has time to wonder why. I don’t want to explain that his every touch is like a jab to my heart.

If I carry on along this route, I will become that person
. I shake my head. That can’t be true.

“Mae?” Cas asks with concern.

We reach our campfire, and he turns to me with his usual open and friendly expression. It kills me to see him like this. It kills me because of what might be, of what he might become. I should leave. I should run away and never come back. But how can I leave Sasha and Cas to the Borgans? How can I let them walk into danger... alone?

“I’m just nervous,” I lie. “A lot can go wrong.”

Cas sits down by the fire. “Ellen’s life is in our hands. Sometimes it feels like too much responsibility to bear. If we make it out alive, and one day I really do become king...” He trails off, staring out into the woods. “Everyone’s lives will be in my hands. Can you imagine the responsibility? Sometimes I wonder if that is why Father became the man he is. Somewhere he decided that the burden was too much, and he switched it off.” Cas clicks his fingers. “He switched off the ability to care. Then everything became about me.” He turns to me, and his eyes are filled with the glassy look of utter desperation.

In that moment, I renounce the Nix and his visions of my future. I forget it all. I know nothing except the fact that Cas needs me, and I will be there for him, no matter what.

“You could never be like that,” I say. “You could never stop caring, because that’s not who you are. We are not always shaped by our parents, Cas. We’re shaped by our choices. When you followed me into the Waerg Woods, I didn’t want you here, and you knew it. But you came anyway because you
chose
to be a good person. You chose to risk your own well-being for the sake of another person. Have you ever heard of a prince or a king doing that? I know I haven’t, and my father told me stories that date back centuries. You will be a good king. You will make it back from the Borgans, and you will live a long, happy life with pretty children.” I stop speaking because my throat closes over with emotion.

He leans forward and clasps my hand. “And we will be friends forever.”

I swallow back the tears burning the back of my eyes. “We will be friends forever.”

“Am I interrupting something?” Sasha asks. She lowers a pail of water to the ground with a raised eyebrow.

I let go of Cas’s hand and rub the palms on my trousers, clearing my throat at the same time. “I’ll stoke the fire so we can boil the water.”

Sasha flashes me a crooked smile as I get to my feet. “Something I should know about?” she whispers.

I shake my head, but she reaches out and grips my arm with her cold fingers. “Is there something between the two of you?”

I wrench my arm away. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no. We’re just friends.”

She narrows her eyes. I see those deep blue eyes assessing me. She misses nothing. “Something happened when we were attacked by the Nix. Did it show you a vision?”

I sigh. As much as I wanted to keep it to myself, there is a part of me that needs to say something, that needs to share the load. So, while Cas feeds Gwen and Anta, I tell her quietly about the vision I was shown. I tell her about how I will grow old alone in the castle as a servant to Cas, and how he will grow old and happy with his wife and I will never move on.

Sasha’s mouth turns into a thin line, and she shakes out her red hair. “That was
not
a vision of the future, Mae. You understand that, don’t you? The monster shows us our worst
fear
.”

“It told me that it was what I would become. It was so real, Sasha. You weren’t there—”

“I know, but... You can’t believe it, Mae. The Nix is a trickster. This is what it does to people. It weakens them until they crack.”

“If it wanted to weaken me, it would have let me do it.” I motion the action against my wrists. “When I came to, I had a sharp stone in my hand.”

Sasha sucks air in through her teeth and closes her eyes as though to compose herself.

“I’m sorry,” I say, remembering that the monster killed her mother. “I shouldn’t have mentioned that.”

“No,” she says, opening her eyes again. She places a hand on my shoulder. “I’m glad you told me. You have to dismiss those thoughts. The monster tricked you into thinking the vision was true, because then you will
make
it come true. Fight against that impulse. I don’t know why it didn’t kill you. All I can think is that it has some unfinished business, maybe with all of us.” She shudders. “Don’t let it win by becoming the person it expects you to become. That’s the only thing we can do in our lives, fight against those who put us down.”

*

W
e boil the bricken leaves and let the mixture cool before coating Cas’s hair in the goop. Touching his scalp feels so strange, so intimate. I rush through it, dragging my nails and causing him to chastise me for being too rough. Sasha flashes me a knowing look every now and then. She always knows what I’m doing and why. It makes me wonder why Cas has never realised. Perhaps it’s because he doesn’t see me like that, and he never will.

With a lump in my throat, I wash my dirty hands in some clean water and instruct Cas to leave the mixture to dry. Later, we’ll have to wash it out and rub berry juice on his teeth. But for now we eat and try to relax before the journey to the Borgan camp. I put the dangers we face out of my mind and go looking for firewood.

We’re in a part of the forest covered in lush green grass and exotic flowers. There are bundles of plants with huge pink flowers the size of my palms. When I run a finger over the petals, my finger squeaks against the shiny coating. They are thicker than cloth. Colourful butterflies cluster over the open faces of the flowers, and chunky bees float lazily in the air. There’s a sweet scent in this part of the forest, like honey and roses. I can imagine why the Borgans camp here. It seems like the sort of forest with delicious treats nestled high up in trees or in the stalks of plants.

Later, we wash the dried paste from Cas’s hair, and he no longer looks like Cas. His grey eyes seem darker next to his mud-brown hair. It’s soothing, because it stops me from imagining the visions every time I look at him.

In a quiet moment alone, Sasha turns to me. “This is your last chance, Mae. You could walk up to the camp and announce who you are. Allerton will let Ellen go in exchange for you, and then he will show you how to use your craft. It’s the simplest way.”

“And then Cas will come for me alone, getting himself killed in the process. Or he will succeed, and he will be forced to marry me because of my craft.”

“Isn’t that what you want?” she asks.

“Not like that,” I say. “Never like that. He has made a choice, and I am not that choice.”

“Has he, though? He doesn’t know the truth. He doesn’t know what you
are
. Maybe he would see you differently if he did.”

“We’ve been in the forest alone together for well over a week,” I snap. “Don’t you think he would have those feelings if he was ever going to have them? No, I’m his
friend
and nothing more. He will never love me, and that’s that.”

Sasha frowns. “You’re a stubborn girl, indeed. Very well, if that is your answer, then I wash my hands of it. I tried to make you see sense, but you’re having none of it. Now, we should go. We want to get there just after sundown, when it is too dark to recognise Cas but not so late they will be suspicious.”

We don’t answer. We simply pack away the camp into our saddlebags and leave. Sasha rides on Gwen with Cas. I have a big decision to make when we get to the camp, and so far, I don’t know what I’m going to do.

I
t is the moonlight which reveals the Borgan camp. I notice the wooden wall first, with its pointed logs shaped into spikes. The sight of them makes me shudder. The Borgans don’t want anyone to climb that wall.

As we approach, I can just make out the shape of a gate in the wall, and a couple of small windows. Fire lights up those windows. A torch carried by the guards, perhaps. We stop our animals before we are in sight, and each dismount. We’d planned this earlier, as a way to make us seem more believable. I remove Anta’s bridle and saddle and move into the trees, finding an appropriate place to hide them beneath leaves. Cas does the same with Gwen’s belongings. Then, I take Anta’s muzzle in my hands and rest my forehead against his.

“Stay safe,” I whisper. “Don’t go far. I don’t want to have to come find you again.”

Anta nickers in response.

When I let go, Anta trots into the trees with Gwen following. Cas has tears in his eyes. He looks away and rubs them with the sleeve of his tunic.

“Do you remember your names?” Sasha asks.

“Mim,” I say.

“Olef,” Cas says.

“And your story?”

“We’re beggars from Fordrencan. We ran away from our master and got lost in the woods,” I repeat.

“Good,” Sasha says with a firm nod. “Remember, answer questions as vaguely as you can. Don’t socialise or invite conversation. You’re traumatised youngsters.”

She examines each of us in turn. Dissatisfied with Cas, she ruffles his hair, smears more mud on his cheeks and rips his trousers to the ankles.

“There,” she says. “You can hardly tell he’s a prince.”

Cas grins, but beneath the grime I can see how pale and afraid he is. We all are. I’m all too aware of the dagger hidden in my boot. I haven’t told anyone about it. If someone finds it, the consequences could be dire. But I can’t go in there without something. I can’t face my father’s killer without some sort of weapon.

We retrace our steps back to the road and begin walking towards the settlement. The torches burn bright behind the windows, like beacons directing us forward. Before I entered the Waerg Woods, I never realised that people lived inside the forest. Now I know that it is home to so many, whether they are natives, Wanderers, or a completely different species. Now I know what hides in the shadows. I know the secrets of the woods. It isn’t just magic that haunts the forest; it is humans, and they are the worst of all.