A Trace of Moonlight Page 7

  “And yet here we are.” I shrugged. “It wouldn’t be my life if it wasn’t messed up.”

  His hand snarled in my hair, pulling it over my shoulder with callused fingers. A moment later and his mouth was on mine, soft and tender with a hint of something far stronger. He lingered there, sliding his hand to the back of my neck before pulling away.

  “I’m going to set those snares,” he said finally, his smile rueful as he tucked the woolen blanket around my shoulders. “As pleasant as this is, there are things that need doing before I settle down for the night.”

  I made a mild noise of protest, but it was halfhearted at best, exhaustion taking my libido over its knee and spanking it soundly.

  “I’ll be back soon.” If he said anything after that, I didn’t remember, and sleep swallowed me into nothing.

  Warmth.

  Blissful, enchanted warmth suffused my skin, radiating down my spine. Sometime during the night Phineas had crept in beside me as well; a light snoring vibrated low against my hips. I cracked a bleary eye toward the opening of our shelter as false dawn crept over the edges of the treetops.

  Talivar’s fingers shifted, spreading gently beneath my breast, his mouth brushing my neck. Dimly I wondered if we should have set a watch or something, but undoubtedly the prince knew what he was doing.

  “Everything okay?” His voice was a soft murmur in my ear.

  “Mmm. Just wondering if we’re actually safe.”

  “Nothing’s ever safe, Abby.” He shifted so that his head was pillowed on his arm. “But for now we’re as safe as we can be. I left a few trip wires to warn of anyone’s approach. We’ll know someone’s coming, anyway.”

  “Good enough.” I nestled against him. “Where will we go?”

  “I’ve been thinking on it,” he said, “and we need to aim for the Barras. Kitsune might be willing to hide us for a time, and we’d be able to get access to more information that way.”

  The Barras was a traveling kingdom composed of the ragtag remains of the Unseelie Court, broken up and banished to wander aimlessly through the realms of Faerie. Although not officially recognized by the Queen, it did still retain a certain level of sovereignty. And we had friends there. Still . . .

  “How are we going to find it? And what if it moves too close to the CrossRoads? Won’t that trigger the geas?” The idea of traipsing over the verdant mountains of Faerie was a romantic concept, but that didn’t mean I wanted to spend the next three months sleeping outdoors either.

  “I’ll try to scout it out in the morning. If I can get a message or two out, I may be able to discover where it’s going to be. And as for moving . . . well, maybe we can talk to Kitsune about that. There may be a way to slip your leash yet.”

  I made a little grunt of affirmation. The Barras didn’t have an official leader, but the fox-woman certainly had no qualms about making her wishes known. She had more resources at her disposal than we did at the moment anyway.

  “I’ll come with you,” I snorted, shifting my legs stiffly. “Assuming I can even walk.”

  “Ah, not this time,” he said sheepishly. “I’ll move faster without you, and I’d rather . . .” His voice trailed away awkwardly, and I closed my eyes.

  “Yeah, I know. You don’t want to waste time trying to make sure I don’t break my ankle tripping over a log.”

  “It’s not that, Abby. You’re relatively safe up here. If something happens to me . . . If I get caught, then I want you free and clear.”

  “A hermit in troll country. Free and clear of all but a bevy of billy goats. Maybe I’ll take a troll as husband and pop out a few halfling babies?” I elbowed him in the ribs, the jest merely an effort to hold in a sudden wave of despair.

  His grip about me tightened, one hand cupping my breast in a move that was more protective than sexual, not that that stopped my body from responding to it. “Never,” he murmured, nuzzling my cheek. I turned my head, letting him capture my mouth with his. A half sob caught in my throat. “I thought I’d lost you, Abby.”

  “I thought I’d lost me too,” I whispered, blinking back a hot rush of tears. It was as though the quiet of the almost-dawn finally allowed me to realize how much had happened in the last few weeks. The enormity of my own death lingered like an icy shield around my chest. Had I made the right decision by returning?

  “We’ll find a way out of this mess. And find your incubus,” he added after a moment, his lips curving wryly. “And I’ll make this night up to you, I promise.”

  I could only nod into the darkness, swallowing against the hard lump in my throat. I had the most messed-up relationships of anyone I’d ever known, but untangling them would be the least of my issues. I had to find a way home. Shivering, I snuggled deeper into the curve of his abdomen. For now, I would wait to see what the morning brought.

  The next time I woke up, the sun was streaming into the lean-to, the early morning glare a welcome relief to the rainy evening of before. Lonely birdsong swept in with the light breeze, calling in some secret language I didn’t know. It was still a comforting sound, reassuring to think that something so normal could be in this place.

  I stretched and realized I was alone. A flush of panic rushed down my spine and I snatched the blanket up around my shoulders, leaning out of the shelter. Phineas was curled up on a flat side of a large slab of granite, calmly watching me.

  “ ’Bout time you got up, lazy bones.”

  “Where’s Talivar?” I shook my head, remembering our conversation from a few hours ago, my ears feeling as though they were stuffed with cotton. “He’s gone.”

  The unicorn nodded. “Left a few hours ago . . . as soon as it was light.”

  “I feel so damned useless.” I let the blanket drop from my shoulders as I inspected my still-damp clothes. “Just another goddamned damsel in distress, sitting around waiting for someone to come rescue me.” I snagged my chemise and shook it savagely. “Call me Rapunzel.”

  “Join the club,” the unicorn snorted. “I’m nothing more than a P. T. Barnum reject at the moment, so quit feeling sorry for yourself.”

  I paused at this, eyeing my damp dress with distaste. “You didn’t renew our TouchStone bond,” I said finally.

  “True. But I didn’t have much choice, Abby.” He waggled his brows toward the remainder of his horn. “It’s rather difficult when the seat of power is . . . flaccid.”

  I blinked. Talivar had said the unicorn had given up much for me, but I’d assumed it to be mostly cosmetic. “You’re without magic?”

  “Mostly.” He lipped at a hock aimlessly, like a cat that has suddenly started grooming itself in an effort to avoid something. “I’ve still got a trick or two up my sleeve, but for all intents and purposes, I’m without resources.”

  A twinge of guilt rippled over me. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you do that.”

  He shrugged. “It is what I was sent to do. Your father saw rather far into the future once.”

  “Not far enough, apparently.”

  “He can’t control what’s going to happen. It’s never been that specific . . . but he knew what was probable.”

  “I guess I should be grateful, but what’s the point?” I sank down next to him, the warmth of the rock expanding into my legs. “He made his choice long ago,” I said bitterly, thinking about the Queen. Your mother-in-law, my inner voice said snidely, starting up a rousing chorus of “I’m My Own Grandpa.”

  “And you’re making yours,” he pointed out. “As it should be. There’s no statute of limitations on making mistakes. We make decisions based on the best information we have.”

  “Maybe,” I groused. “But I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I think I’ve done enough wallowing for one day.” I slid into the slightly damp chemise, struggling to tie up the sodden lacings of my dress. Chilly for certain, but at least I didn’t feel quite so naked. My boots, however, were still fairly squishy and I decided barefoot would suit me for a while longer.

  Taliv
ar had left the jerky behind and my stomach rumbled at the idea. “What was that you were saying yesterday about a Denny’s?” I sniffed at it, my nose wrinkling as the scent of rotting meat hit me in the face. “I didn’t think jerky went bad—”

  “It doesn’t,” Phineas whispered. “Don’t move, Abby.”

  I froze, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. The shadow of something loomed beside me and I swallowed against the gag reflex as the rotting smell grew stronger. My eyes watered as though I’d bitten into an onion. Made of ass.

  Slowly I turned my head to catch a glimpse of a bulbous, blue-skinned face offset by tiny brows and massive pointed ears. Half-rotted furs hung from the creature’s waist, a fact for which I was terribly grateful. I had no desire to see what a troll looked like in the buff.

  Of course, the fact that said blue person was only waist high to me did play into my assessment.

  “It’s an oversized Smurf,” I muttered, trying not flinch when it poked an inquiring finger at my thigh.

  “That’s a youngling,” Phineas retorted dryly. “Mommie dearest is behind you.”

  Whirling as the sun was momentarily blotted out, I craned my head upward.

  “Ah,” I said cleverly.

  The mother troll stood a good eight feet high or so, but unlike her shapeless, flabby offspring, she was built like a weight lifter of Arnold proportions. “Guess goatherding keeps you in better shape than I thought.”

  The troll woman stared at me impassively while her child poked me again. This time I stood still, unsure of how I was supposed to react. A sudden squalling sound made me duck in spite of myself. Most of the jerky was yanked out of my hands, and the little creature shoveled it into his maw. I caught a glimpse of moss-colored teeth before what was left of my breakfast disappeared.

  “Lovely.” I sighed when it continued to paw at my skirts. “I thought Talivar said we wouldn’t run into these guys.”

  “Probably wouldn’t,” Phineas pointed out. “And she’s got her cub with her . . . and oh, yes, there they are.” He sighed as the troll woman yanked on a leather cord and a cluster of little goats appeared. They looked a bit less than thrilled, but I could hardly blame them. They were being dragged behind something that smelled like the love child of boiled leather and a corpse.

  “Hellloooo, ladies.” The unicorn arched his neck at them coyly, making a little humph in the back of his throat when they ignored him. “I used to be a unicorn, but then I took an arrow to the knee.” He pouted.

  Apparently having decided I wasn’t any sort of threat, Big Blue gestured at her son to follow her, her gaze suddenly falling on where Phineas still sat. She pointed at him and jabbered something at me. I frowned at her.

  “He’s not for sale,” I said slowly, unsure of her words.

  “She doesn’t want to buy me,” Phineas said, his tone frosty. “She wants to . . . breed . . . me. Apparently she lost her billy goat a few days ago and without him, her stock will . . . dwindle.”

  My mouth pursed despite myself. “So what’s the problem? You were just ogling the nannies a second ago, right?”

  “What I do on my own time is my own business,” he sniffed. “Being sold for my services is demeaning.”

  “But being a man-whore to goats isn’t?” I rolled my eyes at him, but shook my head at the troll. “I’m sorry, but he’s not currently up to the task.” I held up a stiff finger and let it droop, ignoring the outraged squeal behind me.

  The troll woman bared her teeth at me in what I think was a smile, her next pantomime suggestive of eating him. Nothing went to waste in troll country.

  “I’m fattening him up first,” I assured her, nodding my head and holding my arms out to the side and rubbing my belly. This seemed to please her well enough. She grunted again and started toward the shelter of the trees, the goats ambling behind her in a parade of caprine misery. The troll child gave me a last poke, his mouth curving into a truly dreadful grimace. “Right back at you,” I murmured, looking down at the remainder of the jerky for a moment before handing it to him.

  He let out a groan of pleasure, stuffed it into his mouth, and stumped off behind the goats, his bare feet leaving behind a trail of broken shrubs. Sinking down next to Phin, I let out a sigh. “Well, that was interesting.”

  There was no answer from the unicorn, but a second later, burning pain shot through my ass.

  “Jesus, what the hell was that for?” I hissed, rubbing the bite vigorously. “I’m only wearing linen skirts, asshole.”

  “I’ll show you a task or two I’m not up for,” he snapped, baring his teeth at me again.

  “Fine. Whatever.” I headed over to the lean-to, glancing up at the sky as I did so. Silly, since I couldn’t tell time by the sun, but I supposed it was better than staring at my feet, which was my other option. I eyed Phin, wondering if I shouldn’t at least attempt to apologize, but decided against it. He could be a real shit when he wanted to be. “Shouldn’t Talivar be back by now?”

  The unicorn stared at me for a minute longer, his jaw set firm. “Maybe,” he said finally. “Assuming he’s not being pursued or something.”

  “That’s reassuring.”

  “You want me to suck up to you and kiss your ass with false hope or do you want to hear the truth?”

  “What choice do I have?” I started to fold up the tarp and blankets, rolling them into something that looked like it could be carried without too much trouble. I was running on the assumption that we’d be moving along as soon as the prince returned, but even if he wasn’t being pursued, that didn’t mean I wanted to wake up with a troll in my bed later.

  Still. The sun climbed higher into the sky with no sign of my would-be husband. I began pacing aimlessly, my legs still aching from the night before.

  “How long do we wait here?” I muttered, torn between worry for him and the burning need to find a way free of the geas. Answers weren’t forthcoming and finally I made up my mind. “I’m going to go look for him.”

  “And how will you know where to go?” Phineas watched me from his perch on the stump.

  “I don’t know! But I can’t just sit here.” I snatched at the rucksack and tossed the loose odds and ends of the camp into it.

  “Don’t be stupid,” the unicorn snapped. “He knows these woods and you don’t. He’s a big boy—and he knows better than anyone what the stakes are.”

  I drew myself up. I knew Phineas was deliberately baiting me to keep me distracted, and my anger gathered, eager to lash out, when suddenly a cry of pain sounded from below us.

  I froze. Talivar?

  Leaving the bag, I snatched up the dagger Talivar had left behind. Not that I knew dick about fighting with knives, but I’d take it over being unarmed.

  “Careful, Abby. We don’t know what’s down there.”

  “That was Talivar. There’s something wrong. Come on.”

  Without waiting to see if he would follow, I half slid, half ran down the rocky outcropping. Twigs rolled beneath my feet though I did my best not to sound too much like a bowling elephant as I scrambled through the brush. My own exhaustion long forgotten, my fingers curled around the dagger hilt with a shaky dread. I paused in the shadow of a fallen pine. Phineas slid to a halt beside me, his ears twitching madly.

  “This way,” he hissed, leaping onto a stump with surprising grace. His tiny hooves dug into the bark as he jumped again. Without hesitation, I followed him, keeping focused on the flashing white tuft of his tail.

  And then I saw them, three of the elves tall and glittering in their pale armor as they stood in a semicircle around . . .

  “Talivar!” His name flew from me in a hoarse cry, my abused throat unable to pitch my voice into anything louder. The elves heard me anyway, heads turning as I stumbled into the clearing. Talivar slumped against the thick granite of a crumbling boulder, his bad leg twisted beneath him.

  He grimaced when he saw me, but I ignored it, my gaze drawn to the crimson stain spreading over his thigh
. Whirling to face his attackers, I brandished the dagger, placing myself in front of him. My inner voice snorted with laughter at this. After all, it wasn’t like I’d actually be able to keep them from taking him. I certainly wasn’t any sort of battle-hardened fighter.

  On the other hand, I was also the Tithe at the moment. Expendability issues aside, I would bet I wasn’t supposed to be hurt. At least not too badly.

  One of the guards turned toward me sympathetically. “I’m sorry, Lady Abby. It’s only orders. And we have to take you in.”

  “Do your orders include hurting your prince?” I gripped the blade tighter, sliding into what I figured was a reasonable fighting stance. The fact that the elves didn’t react was a pretty good indicator that my definition of reasonable was probably about a one or two on the suck scale.

  Behind me I sensed Talivar struggling to get to his feet, one hand leaning hard against the rocks. The hiss of his breath was the only indication of the pain he must have felt. He gripped my shoulder with his other hand, the tremble in his fingers sliding over my skin.

  “I would not see them harmed simply for following the Queen’s command,” Talivar murmured.

  “A little late for that.” The guard gave me a bitter smile. “The prince has acquitted himself quite well, as you can see.”

  I blinked at him and stared at the other two, finally noticing that one sported a nasty bruise on his face. Another cradled a newly useless arm, Talivar’s arrow protruding from his shoulder.

  “Did I say harmed? I meant dead,” the prince said pleasantly, but his grip tightened on my shoulder with each word. Bluffing was only going to get us so far, and we’d run out of time.

  “So why not call it even?” I gestured toward the woods in a vain attempt to avoid an actual fight. “Go on your way and say we escaped?”

  “Abby, they cannot lie,” Talivar chided me gently before turning a dark gaze on the guardsmen. “Not that I plan on simply letting them take us.”