Tír na nÓg Trilogy, Book II: The Rising Dark

Fae Ring

Daylight changed the world Emery had fallen asleep in. In fact, she was entirely disoriented upon waking. She lay on the moss, wrapped in Cullen's warm cloak like a fox in its cozy den. When she stirred a little, she realized her head rested on something soft and, lifting herself up a bit, saw it was a brown tartan, folded up neatly into a pillow. She blinked a few times, trying to recall where she was, and as she looked around, she saw the forest in all its morning brightness. It was far different from the black nightmare of the night before. The trees had color, browns and grays and greens. Everything sparkled with moisture, and strange glittering growths across almost every trunk caught the light of the sky above, which fell in fat shafts through the branches. Fungi laced the moss and stones of the forest floor; shelves and stairways of white and red mushrooms dripped with tiny white vines and pale lichens. The roots which had only hindered her the night before looked far friendlier now, breaking up through the rich earth and offering hiding places for a multitude of small creatures, while on the tree limbs overhead were draped shawls of thick gray-green foliage that in some places fell to the ground like curtains. It was no longer the deep sea but a mystical realm, where sparkles flashed in the rays of white light and the silence was laden with muted animal sounds.

A sensation that someone watched her prickled across the back of her neck and shoulders, and she turned to observe the clearing Cullen had led them to, the man himself sitting across the way, back against a huge stone, one of his legs straight out in front of him, the other bent at the knee with an arm resting atop it. And his green eyes--their color vibrant in this light--were squarely on her.

Suddenly incredibly self-conscious, Emery sat all the way up but kept the cloak around herself. She knew she must look a mess. Her throat was dry, but she didn't ache at all; her sleep on the forest floor might've been her most comfortable sleep yet.

"I have water," Cullen said, getting to his feet and crossing the clearing to crouch near her. He handed Emery a hide pouch, and she took it gratefully, painfully aware of how thirsty she was. "When you are able, we'll move on."

Emery passed the pouch back to him, and he secured it to his belt while she huddled into his cloak. "How long do you think it'll take us to get out?"

Cullen turned out his hands in a gesture of uncertainty. "I hope we are out before nightfall; much trouble may come of my absence."

Tired and awkward, Emery thought of what she wore and how much more sheer the attire would look in daylight. "Can you maybe . . . go somewhere for a minute?"

He gave her a somewhat puzzled look.

"Or at least turn around? I just need a few minutes of privacy."

Understanding, Cullen nodded, rose to his feet, stepped up and over some roots to the outside of the clearing, giving her a little space. As tall as he was, he towered over her like a giant, and she knew that as nice as his cloak was, it would be too long for her to wear if they wanted to move a little faster than they had the night before. Once she was sure he was turned away, Emery stood and removed the cloak, looked at her outfit and had an idea. The tartan was still on the ground in pillow form. Picking it up and shaking it out, Emery hung it like a sarong around her body, draping it underneath her left arm and then tying its ends at the top of her right shoulder. That, at least, would cover most of her and be light enough that it wouldn't hinder her movements.

"I'm fine, now," Emery called to him, letting her hair loose from the haphazard styling of the night before. She ran her fingers through her brown waves, shaking out any tangles or bits of plant life that had somehow ended up in it. Then she bent over, tossed all her hair up and over her head, twisted it into a tight ponytail, and, using one of Oonagh's ties, managed to knot it up into a bun. When she stood straight again, she saw Cullen watching her intently and was both annoyed and satisfied. "Can I use a little more water?" she asked, somewhat demurely.