They left the Court of Stars like thieves in the night, which Lyra supposed they technically were.
"I can't believe I'm stealing from the High Council," she whispered as they crept through corridors that shifted around them in the pre-dawn darkness. She clutched a pack filled with supplies Rowan had somehow procured food, water, changes of clothes, and several items that glowed with their own internal magic.
"You're not stealing," Kieran murmured back, his hand warm and steady on her lower back. "You're reclaiming your inheritance."
"My inheritance?"
"The pendant, the books Rowan grabbed from the Council archives, the focus crystals they all belonged to your grandmother originally. The Council was just... holding them for you."
"That's a very creative interpretation of theft."
"I prefer to think of it as creative interpretation of justice."
They turned a corner and nearly ran into Sage Rowan, who was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed and a smug expression on her face.
"About time," she said, pushing off from the wall. "I was starting to think you'd changed your minds."
"We're here, aren't we?" Lyra said, adjusting her pack. The weight of it felt strange everything she owned in this world could fit in a single bag. "How are we getting out of here without being seen?"
"The same way I got into your room last night. Fire channels." Rowan gestured toward what looked like a perfectly ordinary decorative fireplace. "The Court's heating system extends throughout the entire structure and connects to natural flame sources outside the walls."
Kieran was shaking his head. "Lyra can't travel through fire. She's not a Flame Wielder."
"No, but she's bonded to a Shadow Walker," Rowan said with a grin. "And shadows and flames have more in common than most people realize. Besides, I'll be guiding the journey. All she has to do is trust me."
"Trust you to do what, exactly?" Lyra asked, eyeing the fireplace with deep suspicion.
"Trust me to get you out of here before the Council realizes you're gone and locks down the entire Court." Rowan's expression grew serious. "Because once they know you've run, they'll pull out all the stops to bring you back. And I do mean all the stops."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning tracking spells, scrying bowls, hunter constructs, and probably a few favors called in from some very unsavory types who owe the Council debts." Rowan stepped toward the fireplace, and flames began to dance around her body. "The longer we wait, the harder it gets to stay ahead of them."
Lyra looked at Kieran, who nodded grimly. "She's right. Once we're declared rogue, the full resources of the realm will be turned toward finding us."
"And that doesn't worry you?"
"Everything about this worries me," he admitted. "But the alternative worries me more."
Lyra took a deep breath, trying to calm the butterflies in her stomach. "All right. What do I need to do?"
"Hold tight to your mate and let me do the work," Rowan said. "The fire will feel hot, but it won't burn you. Shadow Walkers are naturally resistant to flame magic, and the mate bond will extend that protection to you."
"That's it?"
"That's it. Simple as breathing." Rowan's grin turned wicked. "Well, breathing while moving at impossible speeds through a network of magical fire channels that exist in a parallel dimension adjacent to normal reality."
"You could have just said 'hold on tight,'" Lyra muttered.
Kieran wrapped his arms around her from behind, and immediately she felt safer, more grounded. The mate bond hummed between them, and she could sense his confidence in Rowan's abilities, his trust in her skills.
"Ready?" Rowan asked.
"No," Lyra said honestly. "But let's do it anyway."
Rowan laughed and stepped into the fireplace. The flames rose around her, but instead of consuming her, they seemed to welcome her, wrapping around her body like living silk. She gestured for them to follow.
Kieran stepped forward, carrying Lyra with him, and suddenly they were surrounded by fire.
It should have been agony. Instead, it felt like being embraced by liquid sunlight. The flames were warm but not burning, alive but not threatening. Lyra could feel them moving at incredible speed through spaces that couldn't possibly exist, rushing through tunnels of fire that stretched between the walls of reality.
It was terrifying and exhilarating and absolutely, completely insane.
She loved every second of it.
They burst out of a natural cave opening somewhere in what looked like deep forest, tumbling onto moss-covered rocks beside a stream that glowed with soft silver light. Lyra landed hard, her knees buckling, but Kieran caught her before she could fall.
"That," she gasped, "was incredible."
"That was the easy part," Rowan said, brushing ash from her leather jacket. "Now we have to get to the Sanctuary before the search parties catch up with us."
"How far is it?" Kieran asked, helping Lyra find her balance.
"Three days hard travel through the Whispering Woods, assuming we don't run into anything that wants to eat us." Rowan shouldered her own pack, which seemed to contain far more than should have been physically possible. "Or five days if we stick to the safe paths."
"Define 'anything that wants to eat us,'" Lyra said weakly.
"Oh, the usual. Dire wolves, shadow cats, the occasional dragon, forest spirits with questionable intentions toward pretty young mortals..." Rowan waved a hand dismissively. "Nothing we can't handle."
"Dragons," Lyra repeated. "There are actual dragons."
"Just little ones in this part of the forest," Kieran said, as if that was supposed to be reassuring. "Crystal dragons, mostly. They're more curious than aggressive."
"Crystal. Dragons."
"Beautiful creatures, actually. You'll probably like them."
Lyra stared at him. "I'm sorry, did you just tell me I'll probably like the dragons?"
"Well, you liked the shadow hounds well enough once you figured out how to stop them from trying to kill you."
"I did not like the shadow hounds!"
"You thought they were magnificent. I could feel it through the bond."
Lyra opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again. He was right there had been something beautiful about the shadow hounds, something wild and free that had called to something deep in her chest.
"I'm going to blame that on magical creature magnetism," she said finally.
"If it makes you feel better," Kieran said with a grin that showed his fangs.
"Can we save the philosophical discussion about Lyra's attraction to dangerous magical creatures for later?" Rowan interrupted. "We need to put some distance between us and the Court before the morning patrol sweeps start."
They set off into the forest, following what might have been a path if you were feeling generous. Lyra found herself between Kieran and Rowan, with Kieran taking point and Rowan guarding the rear. The trees around them were unlike anything she'd ever seen tall as skyscrapers, with bark that seemed to contain entire galaxies and leaves that chimed softly in the breeze.
"The Whispering Woods," Rowan explained when she noticed Lyra staring. "One of the oldest forests in the realm. The trees here have been alive since before the first fae walked between worlds."
"They're beautiful," Lyra breathed, reaching out to touch one of the massive trunks. The moment her skin made contact with the bark, she gasped.
Images flooded her mind centuries of growth and change, seasons beyond counting, the rise and fall of civilizations, the birth and death of stars. And underneath it all, a vast, slow consciousness that recognized her as something precious and rare.
Bridge-daughter, the tree whispered in her mind. Child of two worlds. We have been waiting for you.
"Lyra?" Kieran's voice seemed to come from very far away. "Are you all right?"
She blinked, pulling her hand back from the bark. "The trees they're talking to me."
"That's not unusual for someone with your bloodline," Rowan said matter-of-factly. "Ancient forests like this one remember the old magic, when the barriers between species were thinner. They recognize power when they see it."
"What did they say?"
"That they've been waiting for me." Lyra looked around at the towering trees with new understanding. "This whole forest knows what I am."
"Which means Valdris's creatures will have a harder time tracking us here," Kieran said with satisfaction. "The trees will hide our passage, maybe even misdirect pursuit."
As if in response to his words, the path ahead shifted slightly, becoming clearer and easier to follow. Branches that had been hanging low lifted out of their way, and roots that might have caught their feet smoothed themselves into the earth.
"Definitely showing off now," Rowan said with amusement. "I've never seen the Whispering Woods this eager to help travelers."
They walked in companionable silence for a while, following the ever-changing path deeper into the forest. Lyra found herself relaxing despite the danger they were in, despite the uncertainty of what lay ahead. There was something deeply peaceful about walking through this ancient place, surrounded by consciousness older than civilization.
It was Kieran who first sensed they weren't alone.
"We're being followed," he said quietly, his hand moving to his sword.
"Pursuit from the Court?" Rowan asked, flames beginning to dance around her fingertips.
"No. Something else. Something..." He paused, his silver eyes scanning the trees around them. "Something that doesn't feel entirely hostile."
"Should I be reassured by the 'entirely' part of that?" Lyra asked.
Before Kieran could answer, a voice spoke from somewhere above them.
"Well, well, well. What have we here?"
They looked up to see a figure perched on a branch that should have been too thin to support any weight. At first glance, it looked like a young man with pointed ears and an angular face. But there was something wrong with the proportions, something unsettling about the way he moved as he dropped down to land in front of them.
"A rogue Guardian, a traitorous Council member, and..." His eyes fixed on Lyra, and she saw them widen with something like recognition. "Oh, my. Oh, this is unexpected."
"Who are you?" Rowan demanded, fire flaring around her body.
"I am Puck," the strange figure said with an elaborate bow. "Court jester, forest guide, occasional chaos agent, and loyal servant of the Winter King. And you, my dear bridge-daughter, are exactly who I've been waiting for."
"I'm getting really tired of people saying that," Lyra muttered.
Puck laughed, and the sound was like wind chimes and breaking glass. "I imagine you are. But I'm not here to worship at the altar of prophecy, little moon-child. I'm here to offer you a deal."
"What kind of deal?" Kieran asked suspiciously.
"Safe passage through the woods, protection from the Court's search parties, and a direct route to the Sanctuary of Lost Things." Puck's grin was all sharp edges and mischief. "In exchange for a small favor."
"There's no such thing as a small favor when dealing with Winter Court fae," Rowan said grimly.
"True," Puck agreed cheerfully. "But there's also no such thing as safe passage through these woods without Winter Court protection. The choice is yours trust me, or try to outrun the hunting parties on your own."
"What's the favor?" Lyra asked, ignoring Kieran's sharp look of warning.
"Nothing terrible, I promise. I simply want you to carry a message to the Guardian of the Sanctuary. A message from my king to an old friend."
"That's it? You just want me to be a mail carrier?"
"That's it," Puck said, though his eyes were bright with secrets. "Deliver the message, and my debt to you is paid."
Lyra looked at Kieran and Rowan, reading the tension in both their faces. They clearly didn't trust Puck, and she couldn't blame them. Everything about him screamed 'dangerous trickster.' But she could also sense their desperation, their knowledge that they needed help.
"What happens if I refuse?" she asked.
"Then you continue on your way, and I wish you the best of luck avoiding the crystal dragons, the dire wolves, the shadow cats, and the three separate hunting parties that are currently converging on this forest."
"Three hunting parties?"
"One from the Council, one from the Shadow King's forces, and one from..." Puck's expression grew troubled. "Well, let's just say there are other interested parties who would very much like to get their hands on a newly awakened bridge-child."
"Other interested parties?"
"The Winter King isn't the only one who's been waiting for you to surface, little moon-child. There are powers in this realm that predate the Council, forces that remember the old ways and the old bargains. Not all of them are friendly."
Lyra felt a chill that had nothing to do with the forest air. "And your king's protection would keep us safe from all of them?"
"Within these woods, yes. The Winter King's word is law here, and he has decreed that anyone who harms his messengers will face his personal displeasure." Puck's grin turned predatory. "Trust me, that's not something anyone wants to experience."
"We don't have a choice," Kieran said quietly. "Three hunting parties, plus whatever other threats are out there, we'll never make it to the Sanctuary on our own."
"Agreed," Rowan said reluctantly. "And Puck's right about the Winter King's protection. It's genuine, as far as it goes."
"As far as it goes?"
"Winter Court bargains are always binding, but they're also always specific. He'll protect us while we're carrying his message, but once it's delivered..." She shrugged. "All bets are off."
Lyra studied Puck's sharp, inhuman face, trying to read the intentions behind his bright eyes. Everything about this felt like a trap waiting to spring, but she could also sense the truth in his words about the hunting parties. And if the alternative was facing three different groups of enemies while stumbling blind through an enchanted forest...
"All right," she said. "I'll carry your message. But I want your word your actual, binding word that you'll get us safely to the Sanctuary of Lost Things."
"You have it," Puck said solemnly, and suddenly the air around them shimmered with the weight of a magical oath. "I, Puck of the Winter Court, do swear by ice and starlight that I will guide Lyra Nightwhisper and her companions safely through the Whispering Woods to the Sanctuary of Lost Things, protecting them from all harm until my message is delivered."
The oath settled around them like invisible chains, and Lyra felt the certainty of it in her bones. Whatever else Puck might be, he was now magically bound to keep them safe.
"Excellent!" Puck clapped his hands together, and the sound echoed strangely through the trees. "Now, shall we be off? The first hunting party should reach this clearing in about an hour, and I'd rather not be here when they arrive."
He set off through the trees at a pace that should have been impossible to maintain, but somehow Lyra found herself keeping up easily. The mate bond seemed to be enhancing her physical abilities as well as her magical ones, giving her strength and speed she'd never possessed before.
"So," she said, falling into step beside their strange guide, "what exactly is this message I'm supposed to deliver?"
"Nothing dramatic," Puck said airily. "Just a simple 'hello' from one old friend to another. The Winter King and the Guardian of the Sanctuary have a... complicated history."
"What kind of complicated?"
"The kind that involves a woman, a betrayal, and a curse that's lasted for three centuries." Puck's grin was sharp as a blade. "You know, the usual fae drama."
"Great," Lyra muttered. "I'm walking into the middle of a centuries-old love triangle."
"Not exactly a love triangle," Puck said thoughtfully. "More like a love... dodecahedron. Much more complex, much more interesting."
Behind them, Kieran and Rowan exchanged glances that clearly said 'we are so screwed.'
But they kept walking, following their chaotic guide deeper into the Whispering Woods, while somewhere behind them, hunting parties closed in on an empty clearing and began the serious business of tracking three fugitives who had just accepted help from one of the most unpredictable forces in the realm.
Lyra was beginning to understand that 'complicated' was going to be the theme of her new life.
She was also beginning to understand that she didn't mind nearly as much as she probably should.
After all, simple was overrated. And if she was going to save two worlds, she might as well have an adventure doing it.
Even if that adventure involved crystal dragons, ancient curses, and a guide who looked like he'd stepped out of a fever dream.
Especially then.