An Heir Comes to Rise Page 4

  He stopped close enough beside her that she felt his warm breath across her neck as he angled his head down, still inspecting. Her heart raced at the proximity. He lifted a finger and traced it delicately over the curve of her ear, sending a jolt through her that made her whole body tremble at the contact.

  It felt so real.

  Faythe remained rooted to the spot. She knew she would be too frozen in fear to make any movement even without the arms of smoke still holding her.

  “Human,” he mused.

  Her heart was a wild, erratic pounding in her chest, and she was sure he could hear it. She found her palms slick with sweat and her mouth so hideously dry she wasn’t sure she would get any words out.

  Finishing a full lap around her, eyes still fixed, his frown deepened when he came to a stop at arm’s reach in front of her. “Do you know where you are?” he asked.

  Faythe’s lips parted slowly. “I’m dreaming,” she whispered, more as a reassurance to herself than in answer to her sleep demon’s question.

  His eyes narrowed, and a sly smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. He huffed a laugh. “I remember you,” he said, his voice smooth and eloquent. “From the town today. Or yesterday, so to speak.” He folded his arms, resting his chin on one hand as he pondered. “What is your name?”

  She debated keeping her mouth shut. She had to wake up at some point. This was only a dream; he couldn’t really hurt her if she resisted. But that also meant anything she told him couldn’t hurt her if he was just a figment of her imagination. She had nothing to lose if she played along in this cruel nightmare.

  “Faythe,” she answered.

  “Fai-th.” He drawled the single syllable of her name as if it might offer some clue to his puzzle. He studied her for another painfully long moment. “Fascinating,” he concluded.

  She wasn’t sure what intrigued him exactly. She stood in silence, waiting for him to turn into some beast and devour her or for something worse to come crawling out of the shadows and do the job.

  “You should be careful whose mind you go walking into at night. You might not make it out so easily next time,” he said in warning.

  Her brow furrowed in confusion. She was about to retort that he was the one invading her dreams but quickly realized she’d be arguing with herself.

  He breathed a long sigh. “Well, I should like to get some sleep tonight, Faythe,” he said. “I will be seeing you again, however. Just not here, if you know what’s good for you.” His smile made her skin crawl.

  She wanted to counter that she would never be seeing him again if she could help it; that she would banish all thoughts of him or never sleep again if this was what awaited her.

  He spoke again before she could form a reply. “You can wake yourself up now. I won’t stop you.” He kept his grin as he motioned for her to leave through a door that didn’t exist.

  Faythe shot him a glare and was about to argue again that it wasn’t for him to decide. But she was eager to get out of this conjured Netherworld, so, instead, she closed her eyes and imagined the warmth of her bed, the old wood smell of hut, and Jakon’s soft-sounding snores…

  Faythe jolted violently awake. She was panting, and her shirt clung to her with sweat. Sitting up in bed, she rubbed her eyes and scanned the hut, swallowing down the nausea from her nightmare.

  Real. This is real, she told herself.

  Jakon’s breathing was a sure, comforting sound. She swung her legs over the side of her cot, taking deep, concise breaths to slow her galloping heart. Some nights, her dreams and nightmares were so vivid it took her a while to distinguish whether she was truly awake and hadn’t jumped into another twisted scene in her unconsciousness. She could go through several a night sometimes and always remembered each one.

  Jakon grumbled from his stomach-down sleeping position, one arm and one leg hanging off the cot he barely fit in. He peeled a lazy eye open to look at her. Faythe must have looked as awful as she felt because he instantly pushed himself up into a sitting position. After he scanned her over and determined there was no physical harm, he gave her a knowing look.

  “Bad dream?” he sighed, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

  She gave him a weak smile. “Yeah,” she breathed. “Just a stupid dream. I’m fine.”

  Glancing out the small square window behind him, Faythe spied the first rays of sunshine piercing through the lapis-colored sky, signaling a new break of dawn. She hoisted herself up and went into the closed-off section of the hut they’d made into a semi-functional washroom. She cupped her hands in a bucket of icy water and splashed her face, the coolness nipping her skin. She welcomed the feeling that jerked her awake. Real, she told herself again, and she proceeded to strip down and wash her whole body under the bitter ice water.

  When she stepped out of the washroom, clean and refreshed from her night terror, Jakon was already dressed for his shift on the farm. He wore his usual brown pants and over-the-knee umber boots with a faded white shirt rolled up to the elbows and braces strapped over his shoulders. In the midsummer season, there was no need for extra layers and cloaks during the day, especially with his type of labor.

  Faythe dressed in her own plain clothes: a simple short-sleeved purple tunic with a pair of black pants and worn black boots. They were both in need of some new clothes. She slung a simple belt over her waist to give herself some shape.

  “Are we still going to the solstice bonfires tonight?” she asked casually.

  Jakon grinned. “Of course. It’s your favorite holiday.”

  Summer was the season of nurture and growth before the foreshadowing autumn withered its efforts to brighten the dull land with colorful blooms. The days were long, which left the cool nights to be appreciated and welcomed.

  The solstice took place after dark on the hills at the edge of Farrowhold, decorated by tall, blazing stakes built by the fae. It was one of their king’s very few acts of kindness. The celebration put everyone in the usually gloomy town in high spirits. The streets came to life with vendors and entertainers, people played music and danced upon the hills, children laughed and ran free, and for one whole night, it seemed everyone could forget the threat of war and their impoverished lives and just enjoy the moment.

  Of course, the fae had their own celebrations inside the wall, and Faythe could only imagine the grandeur.

  She beamed enthusiastically.

  “I’ll meet you back here at eight, and then we’ll go,” Jakon said, matching her joy before leaving for his day of work.

  Faythe took a long breath, still smiling. Today, she would allow herself to forget her nightmares, the threat of Valgard, and her friend who would be well on his way to Lakelaria by now. Tonight, she would have fun.

  Chapter 4

  Faythe took her time lazily strolling back to the market. She’d made her deliveries as quickly as possible just so she could have these few minutes alone to enjoy the heat on her face and watch as people adorned the walls with banners and decorations for the solstice celebrations. It was uplifting to see vibrant bursts against the otherwise unsaturated colors of town. She could already feel the positivity and excitement in the atmosphere, and Faythe herself was in high spirits. But her break was over all too soon as she rounded the last corner onto the market square and headed straight for the bakery stall.

  Marie was talking to customers and selling her goods as usual. Faythe glanced at the selection of pastries, and her stomach growled. When Marie caught her longing gaze, she wordlessly nudged her head with a knowing look, inviting her to take one. Faythe smiled sheepishly, leaning in to snatch a chocolate tart before perching on a discarded crate to eat.

  She was halfway through the decadent dessert when she stopped mid-bite, nearly choking as her eyes caught glimpse of an out-of-place hooded figure leaning casually against a wall under the shadow of a veranda. To anyone else, he looked like a simple foreign merchant—one who would likely deal in unsavory goods from the way he casually picked at his nails with his dagg
er, holding a demeanor that dared someone to approach.

  But he was staring right at her out of the corner of his eye, that damned emerald color piercing right through the blanket of darkness beneath his hood even from across the square. Faythe looked around, praying there was someone or something else catching his attention, but no one even slightly acknowledged him.

  Bile rose in her throat at the quick passing thought that maybe she was still in another version of the same nightmare. But her instincts told her this was no dream.

  He could just be here on more business like yesterday. She calmed herself. Of course, it was laughable to think she was memorable enough for him to recognize her from the quick glance he’d spared in her direction.

  She suddenly lost her appetite despite not having eaten anything all day and set the tart down. Her throat was dry as bone from the quick surge of fear and chocolate consumption. She turned to ask Marie, “Would you mind if I hop out for some water?”

  “Of course, dear, but be quick. We’re running low on a few items—be sure to stop by the house on your way back.”

  When Faythe got up, she dared a glance back around, but he was gone, and she couldn’t help but doubt if he’d ever been there at all. She released a long breath of relief and laughed quietly to herself. Perhaps her sleep-deprived mind was playing cruel tricks on her. She set off down the street, heading for the nearest water pump.

  When she got there, she gulped the water greedily before splashing her face to jolt herself awake. The cold licks of wind against her wet face were refreshing and necessary in the heat. A slight breathless sound escaped her lips.

  “Are you avoiding me, Faythe?”

  She spun around so fast and, out of instinct, threw her fist out in attack, but her assailant stepped gracefully out of reach, and she connected with only air. Faythe backed up a good distance as she looked over at the fae male looming too close for comfort. He had his hood down this time, his face an eerie, picture-perfect vision of what she’d conjured last night.

  His words finally registered in her, and she went cold despite the blaring sun. “How do you know my name?” she asked, sounding braver than she felt.

  He cocked his head. “You told me, remember?” She wanted to wipe the amused smile off his face. “You really have no idea what you are, do you?”

  Cheerful voices sounded down the street behind her. Faythe turned to look, but he grabbed her by the elbow and swiftly pulled her around the corner and into a shadowed alley before she could bark a protest. He casually pulled his hood back up but kept his face in full view.

  “I’ve done nothing wrong! What do you want from me?” she hissed.

  He chuckled, and she fought the urge to swing at him again. “I don’t want anything from you, Faythe. I’m merely curious.” He was enjoying this, like a lion playing with his dinner. “You can’t lie to me. You made the mistake of coming into my head last night, so tell me, how does a human come to be a Nightwalker?”

  It took a moment for her to hear him right. Faythe, a Nightwalker. She laughed out loud, and his eyes narrowed at the outburst.

  The only way her mind could process the encounter with the fae male was to think they had perhaps already caught on to her involvement in Reuben’s escape, and he had been sent to bring her in. But until he made a formal accusation, she would maintain her innocence.

  She calmed her face. “Look, I don’t know what orders you’re on, but that’s a ridiculous charge to try to get me arrested.” She tucked her long brown hair behind her ear and pointed to herself. “Human, remember?” she stated the obvious.

  He laughed back at her—a sound that was quickly becoming a trigger for her violent thoughts. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.

  “No one’s trying to arrest you.” He paused before adding, “Yet.”

  She stilled, and he took in her look of panic, flashing an amused, wicked grin.

  Regaining her composure, Faythe straightened. “Well, if it isn’t happening today, I have to get back to work.” Not a lie, but a perfect excuse to get away and buy herself some time to plan her next move.

  She felt sick to her stomach. Would she end up in a barrel sailing off into the unknown too? Jakon would be heartbroken; would likely go with her. She decided she couldn’t tell him. She’d have to leave in the middle of the night, and…

  Her racing thoughts were cut off by his smooth voice. “If you’re not playing me for a fool, you’re in even more danger than I thought.” He frowned, his face turning serious. Peeling himself from the wall, he took a step closer. “Listen to me very carefully,” he said, and she resisted the urge to flinch back at his sudden stern tone. “If you don’t know how to control it, there are far worse minds than mine you can end up in when you sleep. If you wander into the mind of another Nightwalker, they’ll know about you. They can trap you in their heads and kill you from there.” He paused for a moment, assessing her with a look that made every nerve cell tremble.

  A cold chill rattled down her spine. Her thoughts were a whirlwind as she tried to make sense of what he was saying. She wanted to laugh again; to believe it was all some twisted joke. But the urge to ridicule the idea died when she beheld the fierce look in his eyes. The fae had no reason to imply such an impossible ability lived within her. It would confirm his insanity more than her guilt.

  He continued, “You’re different, Faythe—something the king doesn’t take too kindly to. So until I’ve figured out exactly how you came to exist, I suggest you keep your head down. Don’t engage with any of the fae on patrol as it seems when you do, you can’t get them out of your head.” His straight face twitched into a teasing smirk.

  Her cheeks flushed crimson. “Last night…” She trailed off in disbelief.

  He nodded, and it was all the confirmation she needed to know he could recall every detail of her nightmare because he had been there. Or, at least, his mind had been there—if that was how it worked.

  He said, “There aren’t many of us Nightwalkers. We can’t enter a mind we’ve never seen the face of before, so you’d be wise to keep a low profile. Should be easy by the looks of you.”

  Faythe didn’t have it in her to react to the insult. She took a long breath to calm her racing heart. It wasn’t possible, shouldn’t be possible…and yet her mind was already filled with clarity on so many things. Her dreams—

  Oh, Gods.

  “It’s not true,” she whispered, though the words tasted like a lie.

  The world tilted for a second, and she shook her head to clear the dizziness. Too many questions and no one to turn to for answers. How could she trust this fae to keep her deadly secret and not turn her in at the first opportunity to earn favor with the king? She would be killed simply for being an uncharted threat. She couldn’t even tell Jakon—it would be too much of a risk.

  Then a thought crossed her mind that made her heart drop. Did her mother know?

  For the first time since her mother had died, she felt completely and utterly scared and alone. The excited clamor of the town around her faded, and the sun dimmed dramatically. She had to calm herself. This was not the right place or company to break down in panic.

  A rough pair of hands gripped her shoulders tightly. They shook her once, then twice.

  “Look at me.”

  She wasn’t sure if the words were spoken out loud, but they made her snap her eyes up to his, and the world came back into focus.

  “I’m going to help you. But you need to keep your wits about you,” he said sharply.

  She willed herself to keep looking at the green eyes that seemed to hypnotize her. She couldn’t trust him—he was fae and would betray her eventually. She was nothing to him.

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe I like the challenge.”

  So casual and friendly. It was not what she had come to expect of his kind, but when she took race out of the equation…he seemed perfectly normal.

  He released her shoulders, and she backed up a
step, suddenly aware she would be expected back at the stall by now and hadn’t even been to the bakehouse as Marie had asked.

  “I have to go,” she said quickly.

  He gave her a knowing nod. “Don’t tell anyone about this, Faythe, not even your friend. I’ll find you again soon.”

  She didn’t have time to ask how he knew about Jakon as he pulled his hood further over his face and turned to leave down the dark alley. Instead, she called, “What’s your name?”

  He stopped and turned slightly to look at her, contemplating. “Nik,” he said at last before disappearing through the shadows.

  Oddly, she didn’t expect such a simple name.

  Without another thought, she was sprinting to the bakehouse.

  Chapter 5

  Faythe barely heard Marie’s daughters rant about how their baked goods had already started to spoil and go cold. She didn’t hear much back at the stall, where Marie also scolded her for taking so long and being late two days in a row. She did wince when Marie threatened to find a replacement if she was tardy again.

  Her mind reeled. She thanked the Spirits when the workday came to an end earlier than usual in preparation for the festivities. Marie had given her the day off tomorrow. Many of the stalls would stay closed as a rest day from the solstice celebrations and for people to attend mass at the temple early in the morning.

  When Faythe arrived home to the hut, it was only half past six. She figured Jakon would be working usual hours as he’d suggested they meet at his return time of eight. She was determined to forget everything she’d learned today as well as her new unlikely fae ally in the quest to keep her secret hidden. It still made her sick to think about her new incomprehensible reality and how she would be able to live with herself for lying to her closest friend. Even more, it terrified her to fall asleep if she had no control over where she went in her dreams.