Khushala

Even before my vision cleared, I knew with grim certainty that I was no longer at the Sun Forge. The air around me was no longer warm and inviting, but crackled with cold that seared my lungs. It was the cold of my nightmares, bone-deep and unforgiving. I had felt it before. And I never wished to experience it again.

Slowly, the space around me materialized, and I found myself in a small room, illuminated only by a roaring fire in a stone pit. Ember flecks flickered in the air, and I immediately reached for my magic, willing to set the substantial cost to return against my lifespan if it meant I could get out of here. I have to get back to Rafail. I have to get back!

I reached reflexively for the magic deep inside me, but the harder I tried to call it forth, the further away it felt. It was as if it wasn’t there. Or I had been blocked from accessing it. What’s going on? The last thing I remember is that moon fae’s hand around my wrist, and then…

Cursing, I looked around, only to realize with a jolt of alarm that I was not alone. The moon fae soldier was leaning against one of the walls, breathing heavily.

Anger surged through me, and I didn’t hesitate, giving into instinct as I ran at him, fists flying. The moon fae didn’t fight back—he evaded my blows, side-stepping me with apparent ease. In the space of several seconds, I realized that all I was doing was wasting my energy. I need to be smart about this, to strategize how I can get back to Rafail. I need to go beyond mere instinct.

I stopped and took a step back, glaring at him instead. “Who are you?” I demanded. “What do you want?” I bit back the rest. . How dare you take me from my home! During my wedding no less—a cowardly act, even for a moon fae. And for what?

The moon fae said nothing, only shifted so he was closer to the fire, and I took the opportunity to study him more closely. Recognition came in quick-fire bursts. “Wait,” I said. “I know you. You’re…what was it? What did they call you? Dalibor?”

At his flinch, I knew I was right. Got you. I suppressed a triumphant smile. This is good. He wants to keep some distance between us, so I should do my best to minimize it. I remembered this fae, remembered him quite well. He was a formidable fighter, I could admit that even though the war had made us enemies. But in order to move against him, I needed to understand why…why he had done this. This will undo everything.

I was cold, angry, and in desperate need of answers. Nothing else mattered right now except getting back to Rafael. But how was I to do that? I’ve got to get him to tell me what’s going on and where exactly I am. Then maybe I can come up with a plan for getting back to the Sun Court.

“We’ve fought.” I scoffed. “So what is this? Revenge? A personal vendetta? You were angry enough with me, specifically, to risk not one, but two, teleportation spells? How much lifespan did that take, to traverse such distance? Was it worth it?” All fae were generally conservative with their magic use, because it cost us so much. For him to expend that much magic…I don’t understand any of it.

Though I was on the verge of a tirade, I was carefully cataloging his reactions, watching every twitch, every movement to see whether any of my accusations struck true. But his face only registered tiredness.

I tried to reach for my magic again, to no avail. Fury and dread mingled in the pit of my stomach at the apparent loss of my power, and I let out a low hiss of frustration. Damn it all, none of this was supposed to happen. I need to know what’s happening.

I looked up when the moon fae—Dalibor—finally spoke in a low, rough voice. “Don’t bother.”

I scowled at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Can he tell I’m trying to draw on my magic?

He dropped into a chair near the fire, throwing the dark circles under his eyes into stark relief. He doesn’t just look tired. He looks…exhausted. And I was surprised by the curiosity that flared within me at the realization. He had used a great deal of magic to get me here, at great personal cost—more than most would have risked. But for what purpose?

He wiped his hands against his face. “Don’t bother,” he repeated. “Magic won’t work here. And I didn’t take you for revenge.” He spat the last word out like it was something ugly, and I found myself wanting to believe him—though I didn’t know why.

Stupid. Don’t be stupid, Khushala. Why was I the least bit curious about this moon fae? He was my captor, a criminal who had abducted me and returned me to this barren wasteland. And he seemed determined not to give me any answers. Moon fae may be used to the dark, I thought bitterly, but I don’t like being kept in it.

I took the empty chair on the other side of the fire and forced myself to match his nonchalant attitude despite the fact that I was shaking with cold. I felt suddenly ridiculous in my paper-thin dress. I’m dressed for my wedding, not an interrogation.

I attempted to tamp down my frustration, eyeing him across the fire. It cast a glow on his skin, and I forced myself to look away from the lines of his form, focusing instead on his tired face.

“If not for revenge, then why?” I asked. “You realize this is an act of aggression. The Sun Court won’t take this lightly.” Rafail would be furious. My eyes closed as I imagined the scene I had left behind—Rafail rallying the Sun Court’s forces, issuing frantic orders in his wedding clothes, his face contorted in pain. He would not stand for this.So much for peace…

To my surprise, the fae’s face broke into a wry grin, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t want them to take it lightly.”

Irritated, I snapped, “The war is over. And you lost. What are you hoping to accomplish?” Kidnapping me was a desperate act—and no good could come of it for the Moon Court. If anything, it would only make things much, much worse for his people. Rafail would wield the wrath of the sun against them until we were together again.

The fae looked away from me at that, and it struck me that the husk of the soldier before me was a far cry from the last time I had seen him on the battlefield. I couldn’t help but wonder at the difference that time and circumstance could make.

I may not have known much about Dalibor beyond his name and fearsome reputation, but I did know that he fought with honor. When I first met him, the war had been nearing its end, and it was one of the last times I had been on the field. My blade had crossed his in the melee, and he’d managed to disarm me.

Just as I’d braced myself for the killing blow, I found my own sword back in my hand. He had looked down at me and said, “I don’t kill unarmed soldiers.”

We’d continued our fight until his side called for a retreat, but I remembered the encounter vividly because it had caught me by surprise—that a moon fae could be so honorable, that he could have killed me so easily and chose not to. I thought my life was forfeit, but he spared me, just so he could kill me honorably.

Remembering that, I decided to try another tactic, adopting a plaintive tone as I addressed him again. “Dalibor, I don’t understand. Why did you take me from my wedding?”

He flinched again, and this time stood, moving to the corner of the room and grabbing something from the floor. He tossed it to me, and I caught it without thinking, surprised to realize it was a rough blanket. So he noticed me shivering.

I wasn’t certain whether I should be glad that he noticed and thankful for the blanket, or irritated that I had shown weakness in front of an enemy.

But I was cold, so I wrapped the blanket around my bare arms. If I was too cold, I wouldn’t be able to fight or get away from here if—when—the opportunity presented itself.

Dalibor moved away from me, making his way to a door at the other end of the room, half hidden in the shadows.

I sat up straighter. “Wait, are you leaving me here? Just tell me why you did this!”

Dalibor paused, but didn’t turn to look at me as he spoke, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “We needed leverage. You’re our hostage.”