The Lost Fae Princess Page 3

  He shook his head, exhaling. “Go on, Elle.”

  His curly, graying hair, swayed as a wind blew into the small room filled with stacks of books, assorted candles of all sizes, and his desk and chair. She glanced outside, wondering if a storm was brewing.

  When she glanced back at Brother Dava, his inquisitive gaze remained locked on her face. He studied her, as if she were a great mystery that must be solved.

  She squirmed in her chair, suddenly very uncomfortable.

  “It was nothing,” she said, no longer trusting him enough for the truth. “Just a wolf, I’m sure.” She rubbed her temples, sighing. “I do believe I just need more rest.”

  He shrugged, standing in his ceremonial robes. There was still a splatter of blood along his side, and she looked away, pretending she didn’t see it.

  Did he have a hand in murdering that poor girl?

  She shuddered at the thought.

  “Very well, Elle, you’ve been absolved of your sins,” he said, rummaging through the scrolls on his desk. “You may return to your private quarters.”

  She stood, relieved that the whole ordeal was over. As she headed for the door, he stopped her.

  “But, try to do something with your hair, and maybe wear a better frock,” he said.

  She turned to him, frowning. “Whatever for?”

  “A delegate from the Davidian Clan is arriving this evening,” he said, flopping back down in his seat as if standing had worn him out. “He’ll be coming to pick mates for the princes.”

  She wondered if Brother Dava knew of Father Lewis’ plot.

  She left the room, closing the heavy door behind her. Once she was out in the narrow, stone stairwell, she covered her heart with her hands.

  Fix her hair?

  She would not. There was no way she’d be carted off to serve as mate to any man she didn’t choose for herself.

  There was no better time than to execute her plan.

  It had to happen.

  Now.

  Chapter Six

  Elle smiled, but her heart pounded inside her chest. She’d left the safety of the monastery to venture to the stables. Sneaking past the guards hadn’t been easy, but what she planned to do next would be perhaps the most difficult thing she’d ever attempted.

  In her boots, and fur-lined cloak, she made her way to the front of the main stable. She didn’t risk carrying a pack, but wore her pearls around her neck, under her frock.

  Despite the cold, her hands perspired within the gloves. She flickered a glance far off to the guard posts at each corner of the castle grounds. Dark clouds began to roll across the dreary sky, and she hoped that would shroud her escape.

  If caught, she’d surely be whipped.

  Or worse.

  Be brave, she thought as fear threatened to seize her. Her throat tightened and a sickening sensation filled her belly as her abdominal muscles clenched with anxiety.

  “Elle,” Finn said, taking off his cap when he saw her. Taller than anyone in the castle, and built like a warrior, he was too shy to even be considered a threat. He gave her a bright smile and scratched his head. “What are you doing out here?”

  She shrugged. “We have a break in between courses. I just wanted to see Dancer.”

  “Oh,” he said, tilting his head as he looked at her.

  She continued. “And, you, of course,” she added and his smile widened, a blush filling his cheeks. “Seems I’m going to be heading south soon.”

  His smile faded. “Why?”

  She shrugged, pursing her lips. “A farmer. Can you believe it? But, who am I to scoff at the farm life? It’s all I know.”

  He stepped closer, but paused, as if fearing being too close to her. “You deserve better than that life,” he said, quietly.”

  She closed the gap, and reached out to him. Gray eyes peered down at her as she touched his cheek.

  “That was kind of you to say,” she said, holding his gaze. “Why don’t you let me see Dancer once more before I’m carted off like a calf to market?”

  He nodded, eyeing her lips. Then, he cleared his throat and stepped backward, away from her.

  “We have to be quick about it, though.”

  “Thank you,” she said as he went inside.

  She breathed in.

  Almost there.

  When he led a young gryphon from its stall, her hopes soared.

  “Dancer,” she said with glee.

  A scant sliver of sunlight warmed her cold cheeks as she smoothed her hand over soft, white, fur and feathers.

  “I’ve always wanted to see what it was like to ride a gryphon,” she said, snuggling the creature’s neck.

  Dancer smelled of hay and seeds, but she didn’t mind. It was the most glorious scent she could smell at that moment.

  “Do you think he’d mind if I sat in the saddle?” Elle asked, lifting a brow.

  Finn crossed his arms over her chest. “Go on, but be quick about it. Father Lewis will have my hide if he catches us out here.”

  Elle nodded, grinning despite herself.

  Poor Finn.

  It was almost too easy. She wished she’d had the courage to do this sooner. It’s amazing what fear of toiling away on a farm in the desolate south could do.

  She straddled the gryphon, and leaned over to kiss the back of his head. “I always knew Dancer would like me.”

  Finn returned the smile and gave Dancer a pat. Dancer purred and lowered its head into Finn’s hand for a treat. Finn gave it an orange morsel.

  “Name one person who doesn't like you, Elle.”

  Father Lewis.

  Elle tilted her head and looked over Finn’s shoulder. Of course, she couldn’t say that. There must be no suspicions.

  “Give her a ride, but take it easy.”

  Finn held his hand up to keep the bright sun out of his eyes. He glanced at her with his brows furrowed.

  She pulled a strand of red hair from her eyelashes and tucked it behind her ear. Her hands were shaking, but a forced smile came to her lips as she shrugged.

  “This means the world to me, Finn.”

  Finn looked around and back at her. “Are you sure everything is all right?”

  She shook her head. She wasn’t prepared to answer his question. She knew he was in love with her. Such a notion was obvious. Finn had her name etched onto his skin. No other girl would have him.

  Guilt flooded her. He deserved more than being used by her. He would get a lashing once Father Lewis found out that he had let one of the wards run off with one of the only gryphons on the monastery’s grounds.

  A wave of fear overcome her. Like tiny knives, alarm filled her entire body. She held her breath.

  Her smile faded into a look of worry.

  He stared at her with rising suspicion.

  She knew she couldn't hide the truth from him. He knew her too well.

  Tears burned her eyes as she shook her head.

  Finn began to realize what was really happening. He saw the apology in her face. He held the reigns and gasped.

  “Elle,” he breathed her name with panic. “Don’t do it!”

  She didn’t have a choice. The tears flowed freely now. “Step back, Finn.”

  She kicked the gryphon in the side. It opened its wings, kicked off the solid white ground and ran in mighty leaps that took them into the sky.

  "I'm sorry!"

  Finn fell backwards at the sudden burst of wind the gryphon stirred up. Dancer sped from the farm, hopped over the steel fence, and took flight.

  She glanced over her shoulder and down at Finn. The only boy on the entire monastery grounds, and someone she considered a friend.

  She hated to betray him.

  But, freedom was worth more than friendship at this moment.

  Adrenaline filled her belly. She held the reigns so tightly that her palms began to bleed. Sucking in a breath, she beheld the beauty of the realm.

  From the sky, it all seemed pure.

  Unadulterat
ed.

  This was what the world looked like to the serpents. As they outstretched their wings and took to the skies, this is what they saw.

  She now understood why the Serpent Sisters considered themselves of the superior race. They looked down on everyone.

  Tears so cold that they made her cheeks sting trickled from the corners of her eyes. They were tears of joy, and as a grin took over her face, she leaned into the gryphon’s sparkling silver white feathers. Its heart beating, loudly, steady.

  Her stomach twisted into knots.

  She was free.

  Alone—but free.

  She glanced up at the bright, yellow sun and beamed back at it. No ward of the monastery had ever escaped before. One didn’t leave without a proper arrangement with a male suitor of great standing, wealth, or trade.

  That meant that she would be hunted and brought back, by any means.

  So, she would venture as far away as possible.

  “Higher,” she told Dancer.

  He obeyed, and they flew toward the clouds. Her red hair whipped around her body like long ribbons. Perhaps she could find sanctuary in the Serpent Kingdoms.

  No one had done so before. Not that she knew of at least.

  But, it was worth a try.

  Elle patted Dancer on the head.

  “Good boy. Just keep up above the clouds and we’ll be all right.”

  Dancer hummed. She smiled. That humming sound meant that the he understood. It was nice to have someone agree with her for a change.

  The air thinned the higher they flew, and Elle found herself taking slow, deep breaths.

  She closed her eyes and outstretched her arms as they soared through the sky. Her smile widened until her white teeth gleamed, and she threw her head back and let her hair fly.

  Freedom.

  Chapter Seven

  As the day rolled by, Elle flew across the sky, imagining all of the adventures she’d have. But, first, she wanted to visit her grandparents. They’d been parents to her for longer than her birth parents, and not a day went by that she didn’t think of them.

  As she flew across the sky, her victory was short-lived.

  A loud howl broke her from her celebration. The feral cry was unlike anything she’d ever heard, and couldn’t ignore it.

  Frowning, she looked down, but could see nothing through the clouds.

  Something wasn't right. The air became too hot, and the sky darkened.

  Then, the pain started. She gasped as an electric jolt shot up her arms and neck.

  Dancer glanced back at her, concern in its large, black eyes.

  She rubbed her arms, startled by that sudden agonizing pain. Then, the howl rang out from below.

  "What could that be?" Elle asked, taking the reigns once more.

  Curiosity could prove deadly, but something urged her to take a closer look.

  Chewing her bottom lip, she closed her eyes and exhaled.

  "Down," she said, and Dancer sped from above the clouds, darting through them as white mist and cool air encircled their bodies.

  Once free from the tangle of clouds, they continued their descent toward the forest.

  The howl rang out again, and her heart tugged for the poor creature who let out that guttural cry.

  Dancer landed, and lowered himself to the ground for a rest.

  Elle remained saddled, her chest pressed to Dancer's back, her eyes sharp as she peered through the darkness of thick woods with tall, narrow trees of white, and hard-packed snow.

  The silence was unnerving, but she was certain this was where the howls originated.

  A sudden voice penetrated the quiet of her mind, sending her shooting up from Dancer, eyes wild with terror.

  Help us, it said.

  "Who said that?" Elle asked the woods, as if it would answer. But, this was the Enchanted Kingdom. She knew better than most that anything could happen.

  The sun's light was blocked by dark clouds that rolled by and settled right above her.

  Frowning, she flew onto the palm of her hand, and red flames flickered and rose to light her surroundings.

  While the flames licked and danced across her palm, she turned to Dancer.

  "Stay here, Dancer," she said. "I'll be right back."

  The gryphon craned its neck up and blinked, then lowered itself to rest its head on the ground.

  Though her heart drummed, and her breaths quickened, Elle started into the trees. Branches and slush made it impossible to stealthily trek her way toward the sound.

  But, something urged her forth, and she heeded the call.

  Her voice caught in her throat, and she abruptly stopped at the sight of a trail of blood. Dark, crimson blood pooled into the snow, and led deeper into the woods.

  She swallowed, glancing around to see if whatever had done this still lingered, or if the injured creature was anywhere to be seen.

  Stay calm, she told herself. You're probably the scariest creature in this spooky old woods anyway.

  She wished that were true, but she pushed though her fear and pressed on. She followed the trail of blood, and gasped when she saw two men before her. One was covered in blood, a look of desperation on his face. The other, lay in the snow, nearly unconscious, blood gushing from his abdomen.

  She stood there, dumbfounded, not sure what to do, when one of them looked right at her as if he'd been expecting her arrival.

  "Hurry," he said, and her eyes widened at the realization that his voice was the same one from inside her head. "Get over here and heal him."

  Elle didn't move right away. First, she took a hesitant step.

  "What happened?"

  He growled, a feral sound, and shot a glare her way. "Questions can come later. Help my brother before he dies."

  That gave her the encouragement she needed. Again, she pushed her fears aside and ran to them. She twisted her hand, and blew the flames into a ball that hovered above her patient.

  Then, she took off her gloves and began to search for the wound.

  Her stomach churned when she peeled away a layer of cloth and flesh.

  She should be used to this much blood, having helped her grandparents slaughter a number of sheep for the villagers.

  But, it was still a shock, and by the paling of the wounded man's face, he didn't have much time. Her brows furrowed as she placed her hands onto the wound, blood pooling and gushing between her fingers.

  It was then that her eyes locked with the other man’s…and her body began to glow.

  Fae magic.

  The power to heal.

  It seeped out of her pores and into him, and her heart slowed to nearly stopping.

  She gasped as the power flooded her. She collected energy from the trees and their roots, the flowers that had yet to bloom, and the creatures in their winter sleep.

  Still, it wasn't enough.

  The wound was too deep.

  Terror filled her eyes as she looked from the dying man to his brother.

  “I can't heal him,” she said, tears burning her eyes. She wiped them away, smearing blood onto her face.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, his face paling in color as he looked down at his brother.

  She shook her head, but something came to her.

  For a split second, she almost kept her mouth shut and didn't tell him what had popped into her mind. But, as she felt his heartbeat slow, she knew she had to do it.

  Resolute, she looked to toward where she'd just escaped. “I can’t heal him, not on my own,” she said. “But, I come from the Monastery of the Wolf. There, my mentor can help me heal your brother."

  He shook his head. “We don't have time. We'll never make it there on foot.”

  She placed her hand on his cheek, calming him. "I have a gryphon. I can take him. Just help me carry him to it."

  They sprang into action then, and he carried his brother to dancer, securing him in saddle on the creature's back.

  Elle looked to him. “Hop on,” she said, sitting b
ehind him, and holding him steady.

  He shook his head, eyeing the gryphon. “There isn't enough room, and I'll only slow you down.”

  Then, he stepped backward, away from them.

  “I’ll catch up.”

  “Very well.” She nodded, and reached around the young man to take the reigns.

  “Go, Dancer,” she said, looking skyward as a storm began to brew. “Fly.”

  Chapter Eight

  Elle and Dancer dashed through the chilly air just as mist began to accumulate in the sky. Before long, blankets of snow would fall and bury the land beneath it under several feet.

  She could barely breathe. Snow flurries caught in the wind, and stuck to her cheeks. She gritted her teeth, and rode the gryphon, pushing him as fast as she could.

  The young man before her groaned, and she wrapped her arm around his waist, pressing her cheek to his back. She hoped the warmth of her body would help in whatever little way it could, and that her magic would sustain him.

  Just a little longer.

  “Stay alive,” she said in prayer. Her prayers never meant more to her than at that moment—as she begged the gods to save this stranger.

  Once the monastery appeared in the horizon, she led Dancer down to the stables.

  Finn stood there, hands on his head as he bowed before Father Lewis as he shouted at him.

  Two other monks stood out there as she landed.

  “Help,” she shouted. Her voice was raspy, and got carried away with the wind. Though her throat was tight and sore, she shouted louder. “Please, call Brother Dava. This young man needs healing.”

  They all beheld her, dumbfounded as she leaped from the back of the gryphon and pulled the man down to the ground. He was heavier than he looked, and she fell into the snow as he nearly smothered her.

  She grunted, pulling him up. With him crumpled in her arms, she beseeched them with her eyes. “Help,” she cried again, completely hoarse.

  The hate that was shone upon her could have thrown her back into the woods.

  It was then that she knew just how much trouble she was in. She may have done a great deed trying to save the man’s life, but she would pay for it with her hide.

  They ran to her—yes—but, as they took the body of the young man inside the tower, Father Lewis grabbed her by her forearm.