Lies of Murk by Eva Chase

29

Talia

The second I scramble out into the thin light of what’s either early morning or evening, Madoc jerks the lid shut over the passage behind me. I sway on my feet, overwhelmed by the rush of sensations.

The fresh air gushes into my lungs like a drug. The open space around me feels eerily vast compared to the narrow tunnels I’ve spent most of the past several days in. And then comes a jolt of awareness inside me, the abrupt recognition of Corwin’s presence somewhere distant but filled with hurried joy.

My soul! Can you hear me?

I can, I think back at him, nearly choking on my relief. I can. I’m here.

I’m coming as quickly as I can, Talia. I was by the Heart—it’ll take a little time to reach the fringes. Where are you?

That… is a very good question. I stare around me, taking a few hesitant steps and struggling through the mental upheaval of my sudden change in surroundings to take in the details of the space around me.

I’ve come out into a courtyard of stone tiles in what appears to be a park. A few stone benches border the wide circle, and grassy fields and small hills dotted with occasional trees spread out around it. I spot a playground with a slide and climbing equipment in the distance.

None of that tells me where here is, though.

Another jolt races through my chest, this one less pleasant. Madoc told me to get away from here, to hide. How quickly will the Murk reach this spot to search for me? Will his attempt at diverting them work at all?

I set off as fast as I can limp, hugging myself. There’s a path winding between the trees, and I make out the rooftops of buildings in the near distance. If I can check street signs or a map or a local newspaper, I should be able to figure out where I am.

I should have asked Madoc before he sent me out here so I’d know right away—but it’s too late for that now.

Corwin can read my impressions and the emotions they stir up as well as he always could. Even at my fastest, it’ll take a few hours. Get yourself to safety and you can confirm exactly where you are afterward.

I’m not totally sure where is safe. Where might the rat shifters be lurking in the human world? Are there others around—would they recognize me?

I wish I had some way to at least cover my hair, my most distinctive feature.

I hustle faster, ignoring the reawakened pain in my foot. A rustling sound makes me jump, but it’s only a shift in the wind rippling through the branches of the nearby trees.

No one else is around. The light is gradually brightening, a pinkish tint hazing the sky. It must be very early in the morning here—no one’s really up and about yet.

As I get closer to the edge of the park, I make out a wrought-iron gate up ahead and a road beyond it. Occasional cars are already cruising by. Even though I’m no longer used to the rumble of engines that was so familiar when I was a kid, seeing them gives me a flash of reassurance.

I’m not totally alone here, even if I can’t ask any of the people in those cars where exactly I am.

As long as I can reach you, you’re never alone at all, Corwin says through our bond, with an impression of his arms wrapping around me.

My heart tugs with a desperate longing to be in those arms for real. It’s been too long since I was with my soul-twined mate—with any of them, really, but the bond between Corwin and me makes the pain particularly acute. My skin is quivering with the need to fully reconnect with him. The same urgency ripples from him into me.

If I could be there in an instant—oh, my soul, I’ve missed you so much.

I’ve missed you too.Thoughts of all the things I’ve been through without him start to rise up, but I shove them down. He’s worried enough without knowing how the Murk treated me or the reason they stole me away. I’ll be able to explain everything better and more coherently when we can talk face to face—and all the other arch-lords need to know too.

But there’s one warning I have to give him now. When you get here, you’ll need to be careful. The Murk have a lot more magic than we thought. It’s hard to explain, but they may be able to overpower even a true-blooded fae like you when you’re so far from the Heart of the Mists.

I can feel the truth of what you’re saying, even if I can’t understand how it’s possible, he responds. But we can deal with the Murk themselves later—once you’re safely home. I’ll avoid tangling with them. I only want to reach you and bring you back.

Yes. The start of a sob clogs my throat. Yes, I want that too.

As I come up on the gate, the thought of one specific other arch-lord and his cadre grips me. Are my other mates okay? Has the next full moon already passed? I lost track of the days…

Corwin’s voice washes over me, managing to be soothing even in its urgency. Don’t worry about any of that. Nothing matters until you’re back with us. But the full moon hasn’t arrived yet, and the others are—

There’s a moment’s hesitation, and I can tell he’s muffling impressions he doesn’t want to pass on to me. Enough slips through for me to get the sense of an injury. Were they hurt? I ask with a flare of panic. What—

Focus on making sure you’re not hurt for now, Corwin says firmly. Sylas, August, and Whitt are all well—they’re following behind me as quickly as they were able to get themselves together. There was only a… brief conflict that’s now dealt with, which did no lasting harm to any of them.

I know he’s not lying, but that there’s a lot more he isn’t saying as well. Unfortunately, he’s also right that this isn’t the best time to discuss what’s been going on in the Mists any more than it is for chatting about everything I’ve experienced.

I step through the park’s gate and glance around. The street signs on the corner don’t reveal anything about my larger location other than the names appear to be in a language I don’t know. I wait for a break in the sparse traffic, dart across the road, and start glancing through the windows of the shops and restaurants lining the other side of the street.

Their names are all in that other language and so are the smaller signs hanging in some of the windows. But a café on the far corner has a laminated newspaper clipping pasted next to the door that includes an English quote: “The best croissants in Munich!”

Germany, Corwin says, catching my observation before I need to purposefully pass it on. I know which portal to look for. It won’t take long at all once I’ve reached the fringelands. Can you find somewhere you’ll be out of danger to wait?

I don’t know. I dart a glance around and hurry onward, my heart thumping. Where can I go that I’ll be sure the Murk won’t track me down in the hours it’s going to take Corwin to make it here? I don’t know how to speak the local language—even if I did, the humans around me can’t fend off fae magic.

I’ve got a head start, at least. That’s something. As long as I can stay ahead of them…

But now that the initial burst of adrenaline is wearing off, I can’t help noticing how tired I am. I’d barely gotten any sleep when Madoc woke me up to help me escape. My warped foot is aching, and my other limbs are starting to stiffen from all the walking and climbing and the stress that’s gripped me for much longer than that.

Besides, as long as I’m out wandering the streets, there’s more chance of a search party spotting me. I need somewhere I can take shelter and stay out of view. Somewhere I won’t get kicked out of by the local citizens either.

I hobble onward, looking over a bus shelter, an alley, a coffee shop that’s just opening for the day. None of them seem like ideal options. I can’t shake the sense that I’m running out of time.

I turn one corner and then another, taking a weaving path so at least I’m not directly down the street from the park. How well will the Murk be able to sniff me out and know which route I took? Is there a bus I can hop on to give myself more distance?

How can I when I don’t have any money to pay for the ride?

That thought has just passed through my mind when footsteps tap against the sidewalk somewhere nearby. Instinctively, I throw myself down behind the low wall around the patio of a restaurant that’s currently closed.

I reacted not a moment too soon. As I peek through a small gap between panels in the wall, two figures come around a bend at the other end of the block—perfectly human-looking, but with a feral glint in their gazes that makes my muscles tense. One of them sniffs the air and heads my way. That and the intensity of their stares as they scan the street convinces me that they’re Murk.

How did they get here so quickly? Or does Orion just have so many followers that they’re everywhere? They clearly are sniffing me out, though. In a matter of seconds, they’ll be on top of me.

I scramble for a solution and abruptly remember Madoc taking my hair and blowing his magic into the vent.

Can I push my scent away from me? I know the true name for air. I’ve used it to carry sound to me, so why not smells away from me?

It’s the only real chance I have.

“Briss-gow-aft,” I murmur in as quiet a voice as I can manage, summoning the memories of leaping to August as he taught me the syllables.

The breeze stirs around me. I whisper the word again, compelling the current away from me, to wash over the ground where I walked and waft across the street in the opposite direction. Pick up every trace of my presence and disperse it elsewhere. Carry it away. Please.

The Murk keep walking toward me. I risk one more hissed repetition, putting all the mental energy I can into the magic—and they hesitate.

The one who sniffed before raises his nose. “That way,” he says, pointing away from me in the direction I sent the breeze. They trot across the road and hustle around the next corner.

You did so well, my soul,Corwin says, with a tremor of distraught emotion that he isn’t here to protect me.

But he’s coming. I just have to hold out a little longer.

I don’t know how long my trick with the air will divert my pursuers. I wait only a minute, until I’m sure they’re well on their way, and then I backtrack the way I came, hoping any fresh scent I leave behind will mingle with the old and confuse my trail. I also mumble “Briss-gow-aft” under my breath at regular intervals, washing away whatever traces I can.

What else do I know about the Murk that might help? They’re used to enclosed spaces, like I was starting to become… They’re used to slinking through dimness and darkness, avoiding the full light of day, which is creeping up on us even now. That might help me.

And maybe they’d be less likely to look up rather than along the streets at the level where they’re in the habit of finding things.

I spot a building with a metal staircase running up the brick wall to a side door on the third floor and scramble over to it. Wincing at every soft clink of my boots against the metal steps, I make my way up to the highest point and tuck myself behind a solid wall in one section of the landing that hides me from view.

I murmur the true name for air over and over, dispelling any trace of my scent from the area, until my throat starts to get hoarse and an ache spreads through my skull. Surely I’ve blown away enough traces of my path by now?

My head droops against the metal wall.

I’m almost there, Talia, Corwin says. Hold on just a little longer.

I can do that. I can. I fight back my weariness, scanning the terrain below for any sign of pursuers.

A yawn stretches my jaw. The sun beams down over me, draping me in more warmth than I’ve felt in days. My head lists to the side again, my eyelids drooping—

And a raven dives out of the sky.

Corwin lands next to me, shifting into the form of a man with his wings still spread, and pulls me into his arms. My hands shoot up to cling to him. The sob I’ve been holding in for what feels like days now tumbles out of me.

“I’ve got you, my soul,” he says out loud, the same sentiment echoing through our inner connection. “We’re going home.”