Page 24 of The Last Daughter

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Her wide stare glanced at Ivor, but the wolven had already shut her eyes, refusing to watch for another moment. She clutched the railing and hung her head as if she were going to be sick.

“Seela, we’re going to go over the Edge! Have you fae completely lost your minds?” she all but shrieked over the roar of the ocean falling into space beyond them. But Seela appeared to be in a trance, her gaze remaining fixed and motionless. Even Vali was now glowing like a torch in the night and similarly distracted.

Ailsa only had time to betray a small squeal as the ship groaned, slightly tipping forward. She used both arms to clutch the handrailing as the boat met free air, her view now completely swallowed by a realm of nothingness.

There was a splitting snap like lightning, and the sky above them and below bled into crimson. From black to red, the world bathed in a bloody filter until fading into a spectrum of colors. Each time she blinked they came into clearer focus—the outline of the river, the shades of green forming a landscape, the muted grey sketch of distant mountains.

Her mind reeled with explanations, how in the few blinks of her eyes they had fallen seamlessly into a different place, a different realm entirely. The air was lighter, laced with a humming sensation she could only articulate as pure magic. A small star above burned light across the river lined by wilderness on each side. Wherever they had landed, they were no longer in Midgard.

The realization struck Ailsa cold in the heart. She gripped the handrail when her head started to lighten, the skin over her knuckles stretching against the tension and blanching white. She heard someone call her name behind her, muffled like she was under water, before her knees gave out. The vibrant world glazed over as the back of her skull hit the deck and stars clouded her vision, darkness tailing their brilliance.

* * *

“Ailsa, wake up!”

Ivor’s voice was followed by a gentle shake. Ailsa’s eyes fluttered open, and she found herself back in her cabin, the back of her head throbbing obnoxiously. She groaned, sitting up, and gingerly touched the tender spot.

“What happened?”

“You passed out after we crossed over, and Vali carried you back to the room.”

Ailsa blinked Ivor into better focus. “Valicarriedme? You let him touch me?” The idea of the elfin with his hands on her body, her face against his chest, it was enough to make a part of her heart twitch with an annoying flutter.

“Never mind him,” Ivor waved the thought away. “We docked twenty minutes ago, everyone’s waiting for us to get off. I’ve already packed our things.”

“We’ve docked? Where?” she asked, throwing her legs over the side of the bed. Forgetting Vali with the promise of seeing land again.

“Oh, as if anyone told the wolven! Enough questions, let’s go see for ourselves.”

Ivor carried both their bags as Ailsa was still feeling dizzy from the fall. The elves regarded her with not-so-subtle amusement as she crossed the ship to the docking port, and she paid careful mind not to touch the sore spot on the back of her skull. Sorrin stood near the gangplank taking stock of the wares being toted off by the crew, while Seela and Vali stood off to the side. Feeling the weight of her stare, his eyes found hers.

“How’s your head?” he asked, crossing the width of the ship.

“Fine,” Ailsa looked past him to gain a glimpse of where they docked. A heavy mist settled over the landscape, obscuring the details. “Where are we?”

“Everywhere and nowhere, all at once.” He spread his arms wide, gesturing to the milky world beyond. The forest green cloak he wore flared at the bottom and skimmed the top of his leather boots, gold leafing threaded over the shoulders in an immaculate design. He replaced his sea attire with unnervingly tight pants and a black tunic. The neckline was cut into a deep V, revealing short-lived peeks of his bare chest and the hard lines defining him. “We are still in the Lower Branches. The river from the trunk of the Tree thins into smaller underground springs where it feeds into the Highest, so we are unable to travel by ship from here. The wells supplying the Tree and all the Nine Realms flow through these rivers, and we will follow them until we reach the fae realms.”

“On foot?” Ailsa replied dryly. It was difficult to climb her humble cliffside much less trek the wilderness of the World Tree. There were tales of monsters who roamed the Realm Hidden Between Realms, and with little but Vali to protect her, she felt more exposed out here than she did in the Great Sea.

“It is not a far journey—a few days at most. We will take our time and rest as often as you need.”

“You mean as often as wecan.” Seela approached their small group, her lavender eyes falling on Ivor as she spoke. “Not even I want to be in the wilderness of the Lower Branches longer than necessary. It is said the Tree speaks to those who walk between worlds, and it is not kind to those who listen.”

“Well, the heathen should be just fine then,” Vali muttered before reaching into a fold in his coat. He pulled out the gilded dagger she had used to stab him and offered it to her. “Take it,” he said when she did nothing but stare.

She tentatively reached for the dagger now sheathed in a holster with leather straps. “Why are you giving me this?”

“Just in case you need it. I cannot leave you defenseless.”

Ailsa flipped the weapon in between her fingers, testing the weight. “And you trust me not to use this on you?”

This made him smirk, and she despised that no matter what she said it always seemed to amuse him. “I’m counting on it, Jarl Ailsa. If anyone can discover how to put me out of my misery, it’ll be you.”

“What do you mean?” she asked. But he had already turned his back to her, his commander at his heels.

“Strange, those two. Always together.” Ivor muttered.

Ailsa nodded. “Do you think they’re…”


Tags: Alexis L. Menard Fantasy