Escape to the Sea (Tangled Hearts #1)

Chapter 7 Into the Woods

Tomlyn

I am so fucked.

First of all, I was fucked as soon as I said yes to Benny. I figured this was a trap. Sylf told me it was a trap. I thought I could get around it. Now, Benny and I will absolutely not be square after this. I really hope that my ‘quick thinking’ didn’t put the church in harm’s way.

Second, we are lost in the fucking woods, in the heat of Swane. It’s miserable out, and the flying hellions are out for my blood. I spend most of our trek trying and failing to destroy those bastard mosquitoes, and the rest healing the small welts they leave behind.

Third, I’m walking in the woods with an Aurelian noble that I forced to follow me out of danger. The crown already despises thieves. But kidnappers? I’ll be definitely hanged instead of only maybe hanged. Said Aurelian noble is pissed to hell and won’t stop making these indignant little huffs and muttering under his breath. The only time he stops huffing and muttering is when he goes on and on about his precious Lady Emeria, who can’t possibly be real with how incredible and perfect she is.

Eventually, I try to snap back and complain, but every time I do, the words fall away from me. And why is that?

Fourth, E has got to be the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.

I get lost in him, in the curly golden hair pulled back from his face. In his eyes that are just as golden. In his high, defined cheekbones and his jaw sharp enough to cut glass. I keep sneaking glances at his warm golden skin that peeks out from clothes that hide what has to be an incredible body that I can’t stop thinking about. How can I stop, after that stunt by the carriage?

When I turn back, he glares at me again. I give him a wink before looking away, spotting a mosquito on my hand and swatting it. But there’s already a smear of ruby red against my dark skin, and I sigh. “Fucker,” I mutter, healing the welt before it can form.

I look up to a forked path, take a stab in the dark, and start to head to the right.

“Okay, this is enough!” E snaps shrilly behind me.

I turn and face him, the sun beating down through the lightweight hood I have on. He really is the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. Even when he’s clearly furious, he’s still so pretty.

“Yeah, cutie?”

I am, again, so fucked.

He crosses his arms over his chest, the creases in the fitted shirt doing little to make my mind stop wandering, thinking about what’s underneath. I flick my eyes down to his trousers, seeing the subtle swell of his thighs in the tighter-fitting fabric and… fuck. Fuck .

“You are sending us in circles. Do you even know where we’re going?” he demands.

No, not at all, not even a little bit. “Yeah, of course.”

He raises his chin, his face shifting into the snobby scrutiny that only nobles seem capable of. I think my oldest sister Elain wears it best, though.

“I’m not a complete fool,” he snaps. “Going with you may have been my initial mistake, but I’m not going to make a second.”

Why is it so hard for him to believe that I didn’t want him to get hurt? I’ve said it a thousand times and he still huffs in that way that makes me want to scream. I cross my arms, mirroring his posture. “Oh yeah? And what’s the second mistake?”

“Believing you know what you’re doing! You’re having us go in circles on purpose!”

This time, I do sigh, rubbing my eyes at how stupid this accusation is. “E, I hate the sun, I hate the bugs, I hate the heat. I hate everything about being here. Why would I want to prolong this any more than I have to, when I’d rather—” I spot another bug closing in and slap my hand against my forearm, smashing it beneath my palm. “Hah! I got you, you miserable shit!”

He rolls his eyes. “Gods above and below, I cannot believe this! What exactly is the game, then?”

“There is no game, okay? Here’s the truth. I have no idea where the fuck we’re going. I hate the woods. Do you see me?” I gesture up and down to my figure, and watch his eyes track, lingering a little too long in all the right places. “I know you do,” I grin.

His flushes, roses under golden skin, but he keeps his chin raised, snapping his gaze to mine as if he weren’t ogling me a second ago.

I continue. “Good, dark skin, white hair. Karstian, yeah? I grew up in the caves. If you wanna go muck around in caves and fight off nasty crawlies, I’m your guy. But in the woods? It’s a miracle I managed to survive this long.”

E stares at me, baffled. “Then why lead us around aimlessly, if you didn’t know where we were going?”

I shrug. “I did think I knew the way. I walked past it to get here. Apparently, it wasn’t that easy.”

E throws up his hands. “That’s it. I’m taking over.”

“No, I have my bearings now. We need to continue eastward.”

He gives me a long look, that sharp jawline working. He points in a direction perpendicular to mine. “ That ,” he says flatly, “is east. If we do manage to actually go in that direction, we should find a small river where we can rest and regroup. But, if you’d rather go in your version of eastward, let me know so I can start saving my energy to fight off the bog stalkers. It’s their mating season.”

I let out a long sigh. Periti give me peace. I’ve only been out of the city for two days and I never want to see another tree for as long as I live. “Fine, you lead the way.”

Hopefully not right into the hangman’s noose.

He immediately turns in the direction he pointed, moving at a quick clip. I follow behind him as the trees begin to thin out. E confidently strides forward, not bothering to check around him for anything that might ambush us. He stops every so often to check bushes or plants nearby. Sometimes, he slows to a stop, bending down to pluck some wiry sprouts out of the ground. Other times he pauses to bend down and grab a handful of wild purple flowers, or pluck a few blue-black berries to tuck away into his makeshift pack.

“Do you want me to grab some too?” I ask after he pulls some soft green shoots out of the ground.

“I do not,” he replies curtly.

It’s easy enough to follow his lead, so I pick up a few anyway. They smell like a mild onion, which would go well with a stew or some fish. I spot a few mushrooms as we walk, but he doesn’t bother to slow. I can tell that most of the ones through this thatch are poisonous. The few that I do identify as edible, I tuck into my own pack.

As he passes by a bush with bright red berries, I pause. “I think I can carry some. Is your pack full?”

“Those ones are poisonous,” he says, not even slowing down.

“It’s so much easier in Karst. Everything there is trying to kill you. You don’t have to pick and choose.”

E turns to me, giving me a hard look, but I don’t elaborate. “Well, don’t pick them. We’ll both be miserable and die if we try it. And I have every intention of getting out of this mess alive.”

E keeps us moving at a steady pace that doesn’t wear either of us out. Not that he’s showing any signs of fatigue. So he’s athletic, can move well, and has stamina for days; that is a dangerously attractive combination. It reminds me of Sylf, the last time we went out to the woods. But it’s a little different. Sylf walks through the forest the same way a shadow charger slips in and out of the void. She moves through effortlessly, without a second thought. I feel clumsy in comparison. Still, Sylf makes sure to stay close, even if she chides me for complaining all the time. I’m sure she would be fussing over me by now, wanting to keep us mostly in the shade.

I take another swig from my water canteen, noticing how little water is left as the sun rises higher in the sky. As much fun as it is having E walk in front of me, the sun-sickness is starting to set in. I’m going to pass out soon if I don’t get some shade and some cool water. I need to find something to focus on other than the sweat running down my back.

“So, what’s the deal with this Lady Emeria of yours. Have you been seeing her long?”

E sighs dramatically.

Truth be told, I really don’t need to hear any more about this woman, but at least him talking about her will give me something else to focus on.

“It was a clandestine meeting,” he replies dreamily. “A chance occurrence, a coincidence of fate that our paths crossed when and how they did.”

I nearly trip over my feet in surprise. “Wait, all this longing, and you’ve only seen her once?”

“Once was enough,” he replies airily.

Periti’s Balls, this is ridiculous. I should have picked another topic. Like plants or something. He continues, undeterred. “I spotted her from across the room. Beautiful skin, like jacarandas in bloom. Her hair is the color of globe thistle, and her eyes were bright and green, like healthy grape leaves at the golden hour.”

“Please tell me you didn’t compare her eyes to leaves to her face. That is hardly romantic,” I say, barely keeping it together.

The tips of his slightly pointed ears pinken and he looks away. Goddess, it’s so easy to fluster him. Too cute. “There aren’t really any blooms that are that color green. Although, eyes of climbing vines, endless in their depths and sprawl, that might be more fitting.”

“You’re welcome. Credit me in your next poem. I think she might actually come around to vines. Better than leaves.”

E purses his lips. “You wouldn’t understand. We connected .”

“Is that what they call it up there? Wonders never cease,” I laugh, unable to help myself.

“I did nothing untoward!” he says, his voice jumping at least half an octave.

“Oh, another metaphor, then. Fancy words for flower folk,” I say, shoving my hands into my pockets.

“Not a metaphor. We connected intellectually. Not that I’d expect a termite from the Trunk to understand.”

I stalk past him, annoyed. I know I’m not the best or brightest, but I understand connections. Periti help me, the sooner I’m rid of this brat the better. He takes the lead a few seconds later, and as, if it never happened, he starts to go on and on about her, the way she listened to him talk about his gardens, about the sweetness and heat of her kiss. It sounds straight out of one of Sylf’s books, full of lusting and moaning and corsets ripping.

I start to tune him out again, letting him prattle and fend off the bloodsuckers and keeping an ear out for any other unwanted attention.

With my water drained, his words start to run together even more, the cadence of his musical tenor in flowery metaphors enough to put me to sleep. I put one foot in front of the other, the words falling away for what seems like hours until we finally reach an outcropping by the river.

“Fuck, I thought we’d never reach this damn stream.” I sprint for the shallows. I collapse near the bank, dropping my pack and splashing water onto my face. I take a few moments of bliss to enjoy the water. It’s deliciously cold and I make quick work of refilling my canteen and pouring it over my head, then refilling it again.

By the time I pull myself out of the river, E is already halfway through preparing a campfire. I lean down to my pack and grab the small bundle of foragables that I gathered during our hike. “Here, these may pair well with a stew. I may be able to set a trap and catch a few rabbits.”

E looks at the bundle and assesses it. “Are you sure those are all edible?”

“I’ve eaten a lot of wild mushrooms. A lot of these also grow near the mouth of the caves.”

“And you’ve hunted rabbits before? I can make the snares, if you want?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll handle the traps. You handle the fire. I think I may pass out if I have to sit that close to the heat.”

At that, E’s brow furrowed. “Are you all right? We can rest for longer if you need.”

I wave him off as I start to head back to the trees. “Just a little dehydrated was all. I’ll be much better with more water in me. I’ll be back in a chime.”

I head into the woods, conjuring a few traps and using vines to supplement. After about twenty minutes or so of stomping around in the bushes, I hear a few catches and feel the magic of at least two of my traps dispel.

I end up back in camp with two good rabbits and reach into the aether for a brass cookpot to store them in until I get back. When I return, E is setting up the tinder for the fire.

“Soup’s on!” I say cheerfully, plunking it down on a flat stone nearby.

E stares at the cookpot, and then back to me. “Where did you get the pot?”

“Magic,” I reply.

He gives me an annoyed look as he holds a hand out. “Knife?”

I pull one from my pack and hand it to him. He shoos me back beneath a large tree for shade and starts fussing over the pot, filling it with water and then starting to add pieces of rabbit, the onions, and mushrooms into the pot.

In the lazy sun of the afternoon, the heat exhaustion finally catches up with me, and I drift off to the sound of fire crackling.

When I come to, it takes me a moment to gather my bearings. E is seated cross-legged near the fire, tending to the soup, lost in thought. It smells heavenly, but we won’t be able to eat it straight out of the pot. I reach into the aether again, pulling out a pair of bowls and spoons, and join him next to the fire.

E starts to say something but stops when he sees the bowls. “How—”

“Magic. Sorry for dozing off. Here, let me stir for a bit.”

“It’s done anyway. And no need to apologize. If you’re not used to the heat it can lay you out. You needed the rest.” After a moment, he quietly adds. “I suppose it’s true that Karstians don’t take well to the sun?”

“We don’t. The sun is awful. And we don’t get red like you all do. It’s hard to know until you’ve pushed yourself way too hard.”

E nods, pulling the pot off the fire and starting to pour out an equal measure for both of us. “You did mention you grew up in the caves. Next time you should say something, instead of simply soldiering on.”

“It’s fine, I’ve dealt with worse.”

“It’s not fine. If you pass out unexpectedly, I have no charms to help levitate you, and we’re at least sixty miles from Vinitore. It’s dangerous to be out this far from anyone and not listen to your body. You could seriously hurt yourself.” He pauses, turning to stir a few of the purple flowers into the fire.

“My gal would say the same,” I reply. “What are those? I can’t place them.”

“Cat’s mint. It’s a natural repellent for mosquitoes. I set aside some for you to sleep next to tonight, but tossing a few in the soup can’t hurt.” He gives me a wry smile, his golden eyes glinting in the flickering light of the flames. “They don’t seem as interested in me, but I’d prefer not to come home with a dozen mosquito bites. And they’re most active at night and near water.”

“I really appreciate that, E.”

He chuckles. “Admittedly, it’s more for my sanity than yours.” He finishes portioning out the soup and hands it to me.

Spending time next to him, even in the silence of the evening, is nice. Maybe he’s not so bad when he’s not, I don’t know, being robbed and kidnapped in the middle of the woods. We finish off the stew and I clean out the pot and tuck it away so no larger predators get attracted to the smell. “We should probably put out the fire—if they’re still looking for us, I don’t want to make it too easy.”

“I suppose you’re right,” E replies, quickly tossing dirt over it until the flames are snuffed out.

I kneel over the still warm fire and channel some darklights, baubles of purple and teal starting to float in a lazy spiral within the stones.

“Oh,” E says gently, eyes widening in delight as he watches them.

“They aren’t quite as bright as firelight, but it’ll stop us from having to sit in the darkness all night, yeah?”

“It’s beautiful,” E says, and then sits next to me, tucking underneath the tree where he’s gathered leaves and moss to prevent us from sleeping directly on the ground. With the fire snuffed out, the stars start to break through, twinkling in all their glory.

It reminds me of the first night, when I crawled out of that hole in the middle of nowhere. The relief and awe of the never-ending sky above me. Realizing that I had escaped.

“First cave mushrooms, then traps and hunting rabbits. Are these things you picked up in Karst? Does everyone know how?”

“Gods, no. It’s something I learned in my work there, but it’s not common.”

I can’t imagine any of my sisters, Elain, Tillia, or Eden, foraging in the caves in their ornate silk dresses. Adeana… she would have loved it. She would have loved this too.

“Can I ask another question, Tommy?”

“It’s Tomlyn. My name is Tomlyn.”

E pauses for a moment, and his eyes light up, then, he cracks a smile. “Wait, so your real name is Tomlyn, and your alias is Tommy. Seriously?”

“I never said I was clever, E.” I chuckle, kicking back and looking up at the stars.

“Well, mine is Ephraim,” he replies. “I suppose it’s not much better than Tommy.”

“Ephraim.” I sound out the words in my mouth, tasting it like a fine whiskey. “Seems so old fashioned for someone like you. I like it, though.”

“Old fashioned?”

“In a good way!”

“Preposterous,” Ephraim protests, and then chuckles again. “I can’t believe it. Tomlyn. Incredible.”

“I panicked,” I admit, amused.

“All right, Tomlyn,” he says, tasting my name in return. “I’m curious about the mushrooms, and the other flora you have down there. I’ve heard that everything glows in the dark, with bright pinks and blues and teals. All this bioluminescent light.”

Ephraim grows more excited as he plows on. “Do you use it for lighting? The petals from the flowers? Are they crushed to provide light to your homes or the caves, or are they used for inks, perhaps?”

Wait. Didn’t I just have this conversation with Sylf?

“No, not really,” I say slowly and gesture to the darklights. “Most of our places are lit with darklights. And our vision is better than on the surface. There’s no need.”

Ephraim deflates for a moment, but then he’s off on another trail, like an eager dog with a scent. Again, too cute. “But has anyone researched it? That’s a huge untapped well of potential.”

“Cutie, I have no idea. My family weren’t really farmers.”

Ephraim nods, looking out to the stars, lost in his own head again. Then, his eyes draw upwards. “Look, there’s Saint Danna’s Axe!”

I follow his finger up to the stars, confused. “An axe?”

“Yes, those red stars all in a line there? That’s the hilt, and then you can follow the stars there and there, making the head of the axe.”

“Gardening, fighting, stargazing. Is this something all royal children do?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “No, no. I’m not much good at it, but most people can spot Saint Danna’s Axe. My father taught me a few of these, when we went camping.”

“Was that a punishment?”

“A punishment?” Ephraim looks at me, tilting his head. “Why would that be a punishment?”

I chuckle again, tucking my arms behind my head to prop it up. “Because the woods suck and no one sane should come out here, let alone drag their kids out here.”

Ephraim laughs, warm, open and honest. I want to lean over and kiss him, to drink in that laugh and let him fill me with his warm golden light. Instead, I force my gaze back to the sky.

“You say that, but you’re out here willingly.”

“I did say no one ‘sane’, didn’t I?”

“You could have left,” Ephraim chides.

“And let those morons chop off your finger? Or your ear? I don’t think so.”

Ephraim doesn’t reply to that, and we both turn back to the stars.

At church, Keeper Abe says that Periti shows favor to Her chosen. I’m not sure if it’s a good thing that we’re sleeping under the stars of a Peritian saint who went into a mad rage and burned down a sacred forest. Periti came down from the heavens and turned Danna into a pillar of ash to stop him before his insanity could get any worse.

Maybe she’s trying to tell me I’m crazy too.

I’m in the woods, sleeping next to a kidnapped noble I can’t stop flirting with. Maybe she’ll come down here and smite me too.

“Hey… What other star-pictures can you see?”

He gives another soft laugh, making me melt down into the leaves. “Constellations. And sure, over there, I think you can make out Gratzio’s Cornucopia.”

He points to another and another, and I relax, sinking into the sound of his voice.

Even if I am crazy, at least I’m in reasonable company. And if this does end with a noose around my neck, at least I’m having a decent time before I go.