Her Cinder Throne (Completed)

Chapter 52

After another hour of traipsing through the yellow flowers, Cole stopped to catch her breath. She couldn't lower Tanwyn otherwise she knew she'd never get him back up again, so she let him lean into her and wrapped both her arms around his torso to keep him upright.

"How much further is this stupid village," she muttered, resting her chin on his black hair and not even caring about what it might look like to her mother. She was exhausted and she wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and fall asleep.

"It's there," her mother said. Cole's gaze swung to take in a small blur on the horizon. She hadn't noticed it before, but now that her mother had pointed it out, it seemed to slowly dissolve into being. At first it was just shapes, but soon she could see the light yellow of thatched roofs, and the glint of moonlight on shining cobblestone paths. It would be a few more minutes walking, but they were close.

Wrestling Tanwyn into a better position, Cole pressed on until they reached the edge of the town. It was silent as a grave, with no lights in any windows, and no building that looked as if it might belong to a healer. She began to wonder if she should just begin pounding on doors, hoping to find a faerie that would take pity on one of their own.

"Take him to that barn over there," her mother whispered. "I'll find some herbs to help him."

Cole's eyebrows tilted up, but she didn't argue or question her mother. She was just glad to hear her voice and see the spark in her eye as she slipped away from them and bustled down a side street. While Cole worried about letting her leave alone, she knew she had to put Tanwyn down somewhere before they both collapsed.

She dragged him a few more feet down the road to where a barn sat against the road. Its doors were open and as Cole stepped in, she realized it was a stable for horses and cattle. She hadn't been aware that the fae had such animals, but she guessed it wasn't that unusual. They had the same needs as humans, after all, which would mean that they needed animals just as much.

One of the stalls was empty near the back, and Cole dumped Tanwyn into the straw against the back wall. She flopped down beside him, unable to move another inch. Her arms and legs burned and she felt like she'd spent a full day working in the Sparkstone mines.

Tanwyn's head rested against the edge of her shoulder and she felt the heat pouring off him. She turned, looking at his face in the dimness. His hair was plastered in tendrils to his cheeks, and his eyes fluttered in his restless sleep. She reached over, brushing his hair behind his ears before she even realized what she was doing. He looked somehow frighteningly in need of protection. Once he had threatened her and her mother's life, and yet now she felt as if she was responsible for keeping him safe.

She sighed and placed her hand on his cheek, pushing his head so that it was resting in a better position on her shoulder. He was now near her neck and his breath ran across her collarbone. She let her own head loll against the top of his, breathing in and out in a slow rhythm to try and guide his down from its labored heights. She wanted to stay awake, make sure her mother made it back safe and that they bandaged Tanwyn in time, but soon her eyes were closing, surrendering her to the inevitable sleep that came from the bone-tired exhaustion that washed over her.

It barely felt like any time had passed when she opened her eyes again, yet the sun was streaming into the barn and the bustle of village life buzzed outside the doors. She flung herself up, wildly scanning the stall to make sure that no one had discovered them. Thankfully the stall door was shut, and enough shadows remained that they would not be immediately obvious in the straw unless someone had a reason to step inside. Tanwyn lay a few feet away, wrapped in a thin blanket and looking more rested. His color had returned to his face, though his cheeks were flushed. But he did not look as close to death as he had last night.

Her mother was sleeping sitting against the wall on his other side, her lank hair cascading in front of her face. It gave Cole horrid memories of the dungeon, and she had to shake her head to rid herself of the image of her mother buried down there for all these years.

While she waited for the others to wake, Cole stretched her arms into the air and her legs out. She wanted to walk around, but she was covered in filth, wearing a ragged shift dress, and with badly shorn hair. She would stick out in the faerie village more than snow in summer, and she knew they would report her to the nearest royal guard station as soon as they saw her. Humans had no business in Avallen.

"Where are we?"

Cole turned to see Tanwyn squinting from under his blanket, a pout on his lips and his eyebrows drawn together. "It smells like manure," he said.

"It is manure and you should be grateful. You were a right pain in the side to lug all this way. I feel like I was run over by a wagon."

Tanwyn rolled his eyes. "I didn't ask you to not finish your mission and get yourself out of the castle," he said. "You were supposed to use the ring to escape right away."

Cole snarled. "You better be glad that I didn't, otherwise you'd be dead right now."

"We're all probably dead anyway," Tanwyn said, his expression turning suddenly serious. "I was banking on getting forgiveness for going behind my aunt's back by actually succeeding."

Cole's eyes narrowed. "Maybe you shouldn't try and go behind your aunt's back and try to fix problems that she obviously doesn't want fixed."

Tanwyn glared. "Her council is the one holding her back, speaking of treaties and caution. She only needed someone to give her the opportunity to do what she wants without the council making a mess of it."

"Right, you're the hero of this story," Cole bit back. "You rush in and do it all on your own. Put other people in danger because you think you know best. Do your little followers know that you're acting alone? Mistress and Meegan? Do they know their faith was pinned on some fussy fae boy who doesn't even have his own pair of wings?"

Rage flashed in Tanwyn's eyes as he surged upward. He made toward her, but his wound sent him reeling back down to his knees. He was too unsteady to make much headway, so he sat down and glared holes into her. "Don't talk about what you don't know," he said.

"Well, now I know not to trust you," Cole retorted.

A whimpering drew Cole's attention to the corner where her mother sat huddled in the shadows. Her gaze was once more blank and vacant, her mind wandering somewhere else. Cole's heart sunk as she realized that she had missed an opportunity to talk to her real mother. The woman who would have recognized her and spoken on the time they missed. Yet now she was as weak and fragile as a newborn baby.

"My mother doesn't like this arguing," Cole said, trying to calm her voice down. "I'm indebted to you for freeing my mother, but I won't forgive you for lying to me."

Tanwyn sighed. "I don't need your forgiveness."

Cole bit down, staring at her mother. The woman was hunched over, rocking back and forth, looking more like a wounded animal than a person. This was not someone that Tanwyn would see any advantage in having on his side. What could she offer him?

She turned to Tanwyn, narrowing her eyes. "Why did you rescue my mother?"

"It was part of our deal, wasn't it?"

"No. You wouldn't rescue her before you saw that I had completed my side. And, besides, Meegan already told me that my assassination attempt was merely a cover."

Tanwyn stilled, looking like a rabbit that had sensed a wolf approaching. He looked away from Cole and his voice was quiet. "Don't repeat that ever again. She shouldn't have told you anything about that."

"Why not repeat it?" she asked, anger prickling. "You lied to me twice and you want me to just forget it?"

Tanwyn's head whipped around and he glared at her. "It's not for your sake. No one around here can know that your mother is with us. We shouldn't have come to Avallen with her, and we shouldn't be staying." He pushed the blanket off his legs and attempted to stand once again. "We need to leave now."