Stolen Away (25 page)

Antonia dropped her sword, the ribbon unfurling from her wrist. It fluttered out of reach.

Second bell.

I wouldn’t let Lucas die in vain. He’d want me to keep fighting.

I dove for the ribbon, narrowly losing it to a swan boy with sharp teeth. I drove a nail into the back of his hand. White feathers popped out of his arm as he screamed.

Now I had the ribbon. So what the hell was I supposed to do with it?

Third bell.

Eldric bent very slowly, scooped up the crown. Only his eyes burned wildly; the rest of his face was set in its usual mocking lines.

Fourth bell.

Strahan looked at his son triumphantly. It was suddenly
so hot, it was hard to breathe. Flowers bloomed everywhere—roses, hyacinths, bluebells; in empty chairs, between boots, tumbling out of bustles and pockets and mouths. The perfume was so thick and cloying it clogged my throat. The summer king was pleased, and his power surged.

Fifth bell.

Eldric stepped forward, the hawthorn crown still in his hands. His wrist was raw, painful from the iron. He didn’t appear to notice.

Strahan made an imperious gesture. “Give it to me.”

Eldric’s fingers tightened.

Strahan looked nervous for the first time. “I command you.”

Eldric lifted the crown. The battle stopped. The silence was like molasses, sticky, binding us all together. Jo was suddenly beside me, slipping her hand into mine, silent tears running down her face. I didn’t know if she was crying for Lucas or for Eldric.

Sixth bell.

Everyone looked at me, at the red velvet ribbon looped around my fingers. Except for Eldric, who had glanced down at Jo so quickly I might have imagined it.

We could try and take the crown, somehow get it to Antonia, so she could break Strahan’s rule. Or I could trust Jo’s instinct and give the ribbon to Eldric.

I looked at Antonia. “He’s my son,” she whispered.

Seventh bell.

Eldric goggled at her. “You admit it?”

“I’ve never denied it,” she murmured softly, sadly.

“She’s lying,” Strahan seethed. “She abandoned you. She doesn’t love you any more than she loves me. I took care of you.”

Antonia drew herself up. “I didn’t leave you behind, Eldric,” she said. “He stole you from me. I tried to get you back but once you were old enough to show me partiality, I knew I had to stop trying. He’d have killed you for it.”

“You left me alone.”

Eighth bell.

“Not for a single moment,” she told him. “Malik was always with you.”

I wasn’t sure who looked more stunned, Strahan or Eldric.

“Why else would I have returned every year? And run so far?” She shook her head. “Not for him, not for these courts, or that crown. For you.”

“Enough of these games,” Strahan finally said. “I am the rightful king.”

Ninth bell.

“You
were
the rightful king,” Eldric’s torn sleeve revealed burn scars on his arm.

“I trust you,” Jo whispered so that only I could hear. I wasn’t even sure if she knew she was speaking out loud.

Eldric put the crown on his own head, the wildly flickering candles catching the embroidery of his frock coat. Malik looked proud, like a real father ought to.

I shoved the ribbon at Eldric before I could change my mind.

Tenth bell.

Strahan pounced on me like an enraged cat. He scratched at my face, pushed a ruby dagger under my chin so that my head fell back. “Destroy it,” I yelled to Eldric, trying not to move my throat.

Eleventh bell.

Eldric threw the ribbon into the Samhain fire, the silver crown on his brow and the blood of both his parents giving him the power to break the binding spell.

The tip of Strahan’s knife cut into me, drawing blood. It felt like a bee sting. My mother made no sound but every part of her screamed. The knife cut deeper and deeper and then jerked loose. Strahan gurgled, blood staining his teeth.

Nicodemus’s antlers were shoved straight through Strahan’s back and into his chest. My gentle poet friend looked grim, satisfied.

Twelfth bell.

Behind him, Lucas stirred. One arm shifted to a giant hawk’s wing, shifted back. He coughed, groaning.

He was alive.

I burst into tears.

He smiled. “That’s a rather soggy reception,” he croaked.

“I thought you were dead.”

“Not dead.” He winced, pain lancing through him when
he tried to move his shoulder. “Just out cold. Though I hear a kiss from a pretty girl can heal anything.”

“Isn’t that a kiss from a prince?”

“Let’s try it the other way. I don’t fancy kissing Eldric.”

I chuckled, kissing his face, his jaw, his hair. My mouth finally closed over his, and it was a slow dance of lips, so slow and thorough I couldn’t help but fall into it. For a long, delicious moment, the world narrowed down to his tongue touching mine, to the feel of his hair under my fingers, the press of his chest against me.

When I pulled back he smiled. “Better already.”

I hadn’t seen Eldric since the night he became king of the Seelie courts.

He’d said good-bye; taking the crown didn’t change that. If anything, it made things more complicated. I was trying not to think about it.

Eloise’s aunt was finally free. In fact, she had just signed the lease on her first apartment. Eldric was apparently slow to trust Antonia, having been raised to believe she had purposely abandoned him. The Hart tattoo on his arm had been one of his rebellions when he wanted to anger Strahan. Antonia and Lucas both told Eloise about Eldric, and she told me. Secondhand details hurt, but they were better than nothing at all.

“Eloise just shared her chocolate with me voluntarily,”
Devin said from behind me. We were at the farm, eating everything we could get our hands on. I was at the kitchen window, watching the rain soak into the fields.

“You deserve it,” I agreed, glancing over my shoulder at him. His arm was in a cast. “You were brilliant.”

He frowned. “You two have been nice to me all week,” he said suspiciously. It was true. After he had his arm set, we’d been extra nice to him. “It’s freaking me out,” he added. “Stop it.”

Eloise grabbed the chocolate, stuffed it into her mouth. “Better?” she asked, chewing.

He looked satisfied. “Yes.”

I turned back to the window. The weather was cold and damp. A constant, dreary drizzle of rain coated the trees and the fields. It was miserable and wet and we loved it. In the misty gray shadows of the apple orchard, I saw a silhouette.

My heart leaped.

I raced outside, not bothering with a raincoat or rubber boots. Mud squelched under my shoes. I burst through the gate, searching the rows of wet trees. The smell of rotting fruit was thicker than usual, almost like cider. I could get dizzy off the fumes. I checked the last row. My shoulders slumped.

I’d imagined it.

There was no one in the orchard. Eldric was somewhere in the Fae lands, doing whatever it was Fae kings did. I turned around, sighing.

“Looking for someone?”

I’d know that voice anywhere. Eldric leaned back against a tree, drops of water clinging to his hair and his eyelashes. He wasn’t wearing the crown or a silk coat, just his usual T-shirt and torn jeans. My dress didn’t change, but it suddenly felt like a velvet gown.

I swallowed. “You’re here.”

“And where else would I be?” He pushed away, coming toward me. I felt nervous suddenly for some reason. He ran his fingers through my hair, dislodging raindrops. “It’s raining,” he said.

My smile trembled. “I
told
you you were the good guy.”

“Nothing’s changed,” he said softly.

I paused. “Then why did you come?”

“Because everything’s changed,” he said, with the wicked grin that always made me lean toward him, like a sunflower to the sun. “No one can know about us,” he murmured. “Not until I’m a stronger king and know what I’m doing. The Seelie courts are gathering under my banner, but I can’t be sure yet who will be loyal. And not until you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“
Is
there an us?” I whispered.

“There’ll
always
be an us,” he said, sliding his hand down to my lower back and pulling me against him.

I felt like laughing, like there were too many emotions inside me. “Are we done with the talking yet?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his neck.

He bent his head, stayed there with his lips just barely touching mine. “I thought girls liked to talk.”

I nipped at his mouth.

“I have something better in mind.”

They say a village raises a child and it’s much the same with books. I may be the writer working alone in her studio, but there are many hands that made this book better. Many thanks to my editor, Emily Easton, who helps me improve my stories, and to all the known and unknown assistants, publicists (props to Deb Shapiro and Emma Bradshaw!), copy-editors, art directors, bookshops, and librarians. Thanks also go to Marlene Stringer, agent extraordinaire.

And to my friends and family. I wrote the first draft of
Stolen Away
by hand in a notebook over the month of December while holiday madness thrummed around me. Thanks especially to my husband who brought me dinner two hours before midnight on New Year’s Eve so I could finish the last chapter before the year ended!

Also by Alyxandra Harvey

Hearts at Stake
Blood Feud
Out for Blood
Bleeding Hearts

Haunting Violet

Copyright © 2012 by Alexandra Harvey
All rights reserved. You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (including without limitation electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, printing, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

First published in the United States of America in January 2012
by Walker Publishing Company, Inc., a division of Bloomsbury Publishing, Inc.
Electronic edition published in 2012
www.bloomsburyteens.com

For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to
Permissions, Walker BFYR, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10010

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Harvey, Alyxandra.
Stolen away / by Alyxandra Harvey.
p. cm.

Summary: Abducted and trapped in an alternate world in which a despotic ruler
threatens both faery and human realms, seventeen-year-old Eloise must battle to
save her aunt, herself, and a society in danger.
ISBN 978 0 8027 2390 1 (ebook)
[1. Fantasy.] I. Title.
PZ7.H267448St 2012 [Fic]—dc23 2011025043