The merchant ship arrived hours ago, and the crew has been hard at work unloading it. Ulric has spent every waking moment in the storage room with Ashavee. I'd like to say it's because he knows how vital weapons are to us, but I have a feeling it has more to do with a lack of companionship in the past months. He denies it when I broach the subject, adamantly denying he is attracted to her, but it's obvious. He spends too much time talking about how difficult she is, and at the same time, he gets a dreamy far-off look whenever she enters a room. I remember once thinking I wasn't attracted to the Stigian who took my father's place as general, and everyone in the five kingdoms knows how that story ended. Poor Ulric is on the same road of denial that will either lead to heartache or love.
While Ulric sorts through treasures, I make props to hide the fact that he and I can't shift. The materials I have to work with are limited, which has me doubting if I can pull this off. Sewing, bending, forming, I've worked my fingers raw. The ears I fashioned from a pelt are attached to a jeweled headband from my wardrobe. They are too pointy and sadly flop around, looking more like the dead carcass they are. The tail I confiscated from a taxidermied lion has turned out a little better. I pulled a thin wire from a bodice and fed it through the center. It gives the tail a more natural shape, and that's where its realism ends. When on, the appendage rigidly swings like it has gone into a state of rigor mortise. I can't even stomach looking at the nose and fury whiskered cheeks that we need to glue to our faces. The disguises are ridiculous and obviously fake to any Allaji who looks closely enough, so I'm banking on the animal scent to deter them. The scent we've yet to obtain.
Our plan is coming together as best it can. It is far from foolproof—the risk is extremely high—but it's worth the gamble. My gut tells me that Kyron is on his way, and we have a slim window to stop a war before it starts.
I skim my palm over the sheer ebony fabric I fashioned into an ankle-length skirt. Two ribbons crisscross down each side of me, holding the material in place and giving me slightly more coverage than normal. The light-weight material reminds me of shadows. Hopefully, it will do its job and camouflage me when Ulric and I are in the open.
Barked orders draw my attention to my window. The sun is sinking into the ocean, casting the busy docks in hues of orange and violet. The latest commandeered ship bustles with activity as Allaji and Outlanders strip it of anything valuable. They form a steady line that hauls food, art, and jewels to the palace. The countdown to our escape is officially under way.
I press my head to the cool glass, letting it ground me and still my racing thoughts. There is no room for panic or second guessing. I must remain calm and level-headed if our plan is to work. My eyes drift closed, and I find myself in silent prayer. What Ulric, Ashavee, and I do tonight is bigger than us. It is vital to the future of Pliris and the five kingdoms. If Zek has his way, my people will become his. And that taste of power will not stop with us. He will find a way to conquer one kingdom after another. We must pull this off and buy Kyron more time to stop him.
The door to my room opens and Ulric steps inside with a full satchel draped across his body. Sweat trickles down his face and he's out of breath. The last couple of days have not been as restful as I hoped for him. With so little time to prepare, I had to look past his limitations and accept his help. Our journey to the docks tonight is bound to be a painfully slow process.
"I found a couple more daggers and a small sword," he says, tossing the tarnished blades on the table.
I examine the dull blades covered in dents and sigh. "It will have to do. Were you able to find me shoes?"
He rolls his eyes and digs through the satchel before holding up jewel covered satin slippers. "It's the best I could find."
"I need to run through a forest, not plié and twirl, Ulric. Were there no boots?"
"Not that would fit ya. Your feet are small, and a large pair of boots will be more of a hazard to you. You're better off in these sparkly shoe-like things."
"Fantastic," I grumble, taking the dainty pink slippers. "Tell me you were able to at least find some coats so we can conceal the weapons."
"Aye. That I was able to do."
He reaches into the satchel, which I'm beginning to think is a bottomless pit, and pulls out two tattered coats. I turn to my pile of fake animal parts and hand him the lion's tail. He dangles it in front of his face, watching it swing like a pendulum.
"It's the best I could do," I say.
He lifts a brow and nods. "Much like me and finding ya shoes."
"That's fair. Turn around so I can put it on you."
After securing his tail to his breeches, I paste the small fury pelts to Ulric's cheeks. The whiskers I fashioned from some of the courser fur hang limp, framing his mouth. I glue the soft brown fur surrounding a pink cat's nose over my own. We will never pass as Allaji, but we have no other choice. The only way we will pull this off is with brute strength and lots of weapons.
We set to work strapping as many blades as we can to our bodies. Using strips of the fabric from my dresses, we tie the daggers wherever we can. I manage to get the sword hidden under my skirt, and Ulric sheaths two blades into the lining of his coat. Finally, I take the cat ears I made and place them on my head before meeting Ulric's gaze.
Tension weighs heavy in the air between us, so thick I have to gulp down my next breath. This is it. We've faced unstoppable forces and unfavorable odds together. We've marched into battle and fought until we've bled. But never have the stakes been so high. What happens next will alter more than just our lives. It will define Pliris' future.
Ulric runs his palm over his head, leaving his short ginger hair standing on end. "If I slow you down—"
"Don't say it. Don't you fucking say it, Ulric. I already told you that we're leaving together," I say, my words an emotional whisper.
"I'm going to do whatever it takes to get you out of here, Elle."
"And I'm going to do the same for you."
He rights one of the ears in my hair and bows his head. "As you wish, my queen."
I can't stop the tears from welling in my eyes. This isn't the first time Ulric has selflessly scarified himself. He marched with me into battle to save my father and was kidnapped by the Allaji defending Basecamp. Every scrape, bruise, and lash mark on his body is the result of him protecting others. He deserves to go home and have a pint of his favorite ale with his friends. I wrap my arms around his waist and press my cheek to his chest. If I do anything tonight, it will be making sure he stows away on a ship.
When the sun disappears from the sky, Ulric and I step out of my room. The hallway is lit in the amber glow of candles with the soft hum of conversations happening closer to the dining room. We walk side by side, trying to appear casual. Our hands are shoved in the pockets of our coats—the first dead giveaway that we are up to something. We should have waited to put them on, but the blades hidden inside offer the only sense of security we have. I grip the hilt so tightly my fingers ache. Every muscle in my body wants to run. Thankfully, Ulric sets a steady pace, and we look slightly inconspicuous.
We weave through a maze of corridors I've never seen before. Even with the woven rugs lining the floor, it feels like every step, every creak of wood, is yelling the escape plan to our captors. The few Allaji we pass set me on edge, glaring at us. I watch my feet to avoid making eye contact, too afraid they will see what we're up to written on my face.
At the juncture of the hallway, we take a right and Ashavee falls in step with us. We don't speak, settling for a quick nod of acknowledgement before returning our focus to what lies ahead.
Ulric holds his hand behind him to motion us to stop. He peers around a corner, sucks air in between his teeth, and jerks back. "This is it. Two guards are keeping watch on the lift."
I run my fingers over the ears on top of my head and say, "I'm ready."
"You're not," Ashavee says, pulling a small vial from her pocket. "You don't smell like shifters." She pulls the cork from the top and hands to Ulric. He sniffs the clear liquid, shrugs, and tips it onto his fingertip. He dabs it behind his ears and onto his wrists.
I take it from him, and a mixture of dirty water and body odor triggers my gag reflex. "What is this?"
"Not animal piss," he answers.
I glance at Ashavee, and she says, "It is a natural oil that felines produce."
The animal features I made pass at a distance, but there is no way the guards will think they are real once we reach them. We can use all the help we can get. The oil stinks, but at least it's not urine. I hold my breath and rub it onto my skin.
Ashavee leans in and smells us. With a nod of approval, she says, "It's not perfect, but good enough." Taking a coal pencil from her pocket, she grips my chin and tilts my face up. "You need a little extra to disguise you. Everyone has seen you in court. Close your eyes."
I do as she demands, and she sets to work lining my eyes in black. Each stroke of the pencil is hard, leaving greasy marks on my skin. "Hold your heads high and show no signs of submission. Acting cocky is the key to passing as a shifter. No animal wants to submit to another unless they must in order to survive." She looks Ulric up and down. "Not that you will have any issues with the cocky part."
"Is that what you think of me?" he asks, already displaying the attitude she knew he could pull off.
"It is. How so much arrogance fits into such a puny frame is beyond me."
"Arrogance? You think I'm arrogant?" He leans in until his cheek almost brushes hers and deepens his voice. "Give me a chance, pretty hellcat, and I'll prove that my self-confidence is purely based in truth."
Ashavee's eyes grow wide, and she stops breathing. I've never seen her look so surprised by anything. It takes her a moment to get her wits about her again and step away from him. Her eyes narrow and one side of her full lips curls up. "I'll pass."
Ulric snickers, not at all bothered by the way she blew him off.
"If you two are done, can we attempt to get out of here?" I ask, spitting the words in a whisper.
Their gazes dart to me, then back at each other. Like an electric current zaps them, they jump apart. Ashavee runs her palms down her thighs, and Ulric rubs the back of his head.
"Aye, let's get this done with," he says.
Ashavee lifts her chin, walks between Ulric and me, and takes our hands. Her hips sway with a sensual saunter as she leads us toward the lift. The guards watch us as we get closer, but she captures their full attention, saying, "Eyes off, gentlemen. These two are with me tonight."
"Not your normal premium kill, Ash," says a guard. He rubs the stubble on his jaw while dragging his gaze over Ashavee's lean form. "You know you don't have to settle for the bottom of the barrel. I'm willing to show you a good time."
She slides the lift gate to the side and tugs us in with her. Wrapping her arms around mine and Ulirc's waist, she pulls us into her sides. We move into her, lowing our heads to her neck. "It's not about what you can offer, Ephrin. It's about what I want to give." She wiggles her brows as the other guard closes us in the cart. Ashavee reaches around me and pulls the lever on the wall. Gears grind with a continuous click, and the floor shifts as it starts its journey to the ground.
"That was simple and enjoyable," Ulric says, easing away from Ashavee.
Ashavee gives a quick laugh that sounds more like a snort. "My plan wasn't to bring you joy."
"All the same, ya did."
I pull out of her embrace and press my palm to my chest. I'm unsure if it's our slow descent toward the village or the close encounter with the guards that has my heart pounding. We are one step closer to freedom, but we haven't faced the most challenging part of our escape. From my prison in the trees, I know the layout of what lies before us. Especially with an Outlander ship at port, the village will be swarming with those who are hungry, desperate for a pint, and those looking to fuck. It will be impossible for us to go unseen.
The lift shudders to a stop, and we fall silent.
"Are you ready, Elle?" Ulric asks.
I slide my hand into my jacket and grip the pummel of the sword. "Yeah. I'm ready."
He slides the grated gate to the side.
Fresh soil fills my lungs, and for the first time in months, I don't feel like I'm swaying on my legs. Excitement grips me. I've thought about the moment my feet would touch solid ground for weeks. I step off the lift, followed by my friends. It takes every ounce of self-control not to sprint forward and discard my coat. I'm no longer a captive of the sky.
"Walk," Ulric hisses, nudging me from behind. "Don't slow down until we get on that ship."
With purposeful steps, I make my way into the crowd. Ulric and Ashavee match my every move, flanking me on either side. The Allaji and Outlanders loiter in the streets, laughing and singing with large steins of beer in their hands. The hot press of bodies, both flesh and fur, next to mine has beads of sweat pebbling my brow and sliding down my spine. I hold the sword inside my coat tighter, as my anxiety escalates. It's not only the proximity of so many shifters in their animal forms, but the chance of being recognized that I fear. Someone is bound to know who we are.
We push on, not bothering to apologize as we shoulder our way through. The scent of grilled fruits and vegetables mingles with the salty scent of skin. My world is closing in on me. I can't see further than the person in front of me, and every breath I take is thick with the tropical moisture. Trying to find even a hint of a breeze, I flap the ends of my coat like wings to fan myself. It's too crowded, too hot.
Sweat drips from my forehead into my eyes, blurring my vision. I drag my hand down my face and still when I pull away with the cat's nose I glued to mine in my palm. Panic overtakes my common sense, and I fumble to press it to my face, but it's too late.
"What the fuck?" barks the man next to me.
I glance at him, and my heart moves to my throat, pounding away and blocking the air. His eyebrows dart up and recognition flashes in his eyes. This guard has held the throne room doors open for me many times.
"Run," I choke out, reaching back and grasping whatever part I can on Ulric and Ashavee.
"What?" Ashavee asks, leaning over my shoulder. She stiffens as the guard takes her in. "Shit."
"Run!" I say again, finding my voice.
The guard grabs the arm of my coat, and I claw at the material until I'm free. We weave through the throng of people, shoving them out of the way. They're so caught up in the festivities that none of them think to stop us. From behind, the guard's voice carries over all the others, calling for backup.
The tops of the trees that line the shore grow closer. I pick up my pace. Once we are out of the village, the tropical forest will give us room to move and places to hide. We just need to stay together. I look behind me and find Ashavee on my heels. Ulric keeps up, but he is panting like an old dog on a hot summer day. Beyond him, two giant birds soar straight for us.
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," I chant, pushing my body to move faster.
A massive crow swoops down. Ulric and I duck, but the quick motion has Ashavee stumbling to her hands and knees. She curses, dividing her attention between the distance we still must cover and the birds. The crowd closes in on her, and fear rips through me. I turn to go back, but Ulric snatches my hand and tugs me along with him.
"She's a smart one, Elle. Don't worry about her."
I struggle to rip my hand free. "Don't worry? Ulric, if they—"
A spine shivering roar rips through the chaos around us. A large black cat with ebony spots jumps ahead of us. It glances over its shoulder, and I stumble back. The animal holds me with fierce golden eyes. Eyes I've looked into before. I nod at Ashavee, and she bounds forward, parting those blocking our way. We run after her and the haven made of trees grows closer.
I stretch my hand out, reaching for the leaves. Knowing once I touch them, we will be safer. Ashavee breaks through the tree line and then the tips of my fingers brush the closest waxy leaf. My world is set in slow motion. Ulric pushes me into the brush as his pain-filled cry blasts in my ear. I skid across the muddy ground and watch with wide eyes as Ashavee leaps over me, heading back the way we came. I follow her movement to find the bird has sunk its talons into Ulric's arm. His toes sweep across the ground as he is lifted into the air. A single thought repeats in my mind: No, no, not again. I can't lose another person I love this way.
The jaguar latches her sharp teeth to the bird's leg, and it screams. Ulric falls to his knees and scrambles toward me. I grab his wrist and together we rush deep into the thick forest. The leafy canopy protects us from anything in the sky, but it also lets in a little light from the moon. We stumble over unearthed roots and vines roped across the ground. With every fumble, the rustling of leaves behind us moves closer. It's more than one sleek cat wanting to defend us. The Allaji are on the hunt.
From high above, the path to the coastline was a straight line. We must forge our way through trees and brush—a natural labyrinth which forces us to take unwanted turns and spins us around. I try to keep a close eye on the moon, using it as our guide, but it is impossible. We are losing our lead.
Somewhere in the midst of the chaos, I let go of Ulric. Panic surges within me. My gaze darts through the trees, searching for the slightest glimpse of him. Nothing. I fight the urge to call his name. The last thing either of us needs is to draw the attention of the wrong being. I pivot back the way I came...or at least I think I do. I'm lost, absolutely, totally lost.
I maneuver through the tree trunks, working to keep the moon at my back. Every so often I whisper Ulric's name, but I'm met with silence. I'm contemplating heading for the shoreline again, hoping Ulric does the same, when a tug on the back of my skirt jerks me to a stop. I spin to find a leopard with the fabric in its mouth. With its golden eyes locked on me, the cat releases a menacing growl. I stagger back, yanking on the delicate fabric of my skirt. It rips a little, but the leopard doesn't let go.
"Ashavee! Ulric," I scream, glancing behind me at the empty forest.
Other than the spotted cat before me, I'm alone. Panic knots in my gut, and I pull harder on my skirt. With its ass in the air and tail swaying side to side, the cat focuses on me. I have no question what it intends to do. Like the fierce predator it is, it studies my every movement. Waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. I remember the sword at my side. My next move needs to be just as swift and unpredictable, or I'm dead.
My opponent and I go still while staring each other in the eyes. The rattling of the leaves above is the only sound. No pounding feet. No flapping wings. No menacing growls. It's just the leopard and me.
I bypass my sword and yank free the dagger at my thigh. Plunging the blade forward, I miss the center of the leopard's throat and slice the side of its neck. It roars in pain, releasing my skirt, and I run. Charged by pure adrenaline, I bolt for the shoreline. My skin prickles and the short pale hairs on my arms stand on end. It's like an electric pulse is buzzing through me, and beneath the sizzle is something warm and dark—a familiar sensation. It draws me in like an old friend's embrace. I haven't felt like this since...
I push the thought away, chalking it up to my fear getting the better of me. My brain is in survival mode, racing as franticly as my feet. Trying to guard my mental state, it wants me to believe I stand a chance against the Allaji. It is conjuring up memories from when I could hold my own against creatures like the ones stalking me. The Eporri has been a phantom piece of me for days. Sometimes I feel the tingling sensation it sparked when a Khiros was nearby. I reveled in those moments until I remembered it's impossible. I'm powerless, so fucking powerless.
A raspy growl comes from behind me, followed by the slash of claws on my calf. My feet move faster, hitting the ground hard. Sticks stab through my slipper's soft soles, every muscle burns, and each joint screams in pain. I fight to fill my lungs, but my breathing is so fast that the air is in and out before it fuels me. The edges of my vision blur, and I fight through the light-headedness. I only have seconds left before I pass out and the Allaji shred me to ribbons.
My motions are sloppy as I drop the dagger and draw my sword. I spin around, slashing the blade in front of me. The unsuspecting cat charges forward and ducks at the last second. It swipes at my leg. A scream tears from my throat as the sharp claws tear across my calf. Before I fall to my knees, I swing my blade. It slices through the air, hitting the cat with a crack to the skull. It skitters back, but I only gained seconds on my life. Three more massive predators step out of the brush.
On trembling legs, I stand and lift my chin. The hilt of the sword digs into my palm as I clutch it before me. The blade shakes in my unsteady hands. With a deep breath of sea salted air, I face my killers. I call on the power I no longer have, not expecting it to fill me the way it once did. No, what I need right now is the courage it gave me. Warmth spreads throughout my body, and a sure caress sweeps over the nape of my neck. I hold tight to the ghost of that power, a power which always felt like it belonged to me alone.
Cats, wolves, and bears, all have their eyes trained on me. I should run before they pounce, but I smile instead. My strength is not in a stone or a crown. If this is my final battle, I will not fall with my back to my enemy. I will look them in the eyes and fight.