Sitting on a wagon, Vadde jostled when dainty fingers touched her tender bruises. She wasn’t sure of much, but one voice brought her back from the great beyond.

“Thank you. Can you heal the rest?”

Wyrn.

“Yes. Hold on,” Aggu begged. Gentle hands smeared a cold paste against Vadde’s face and neck. Her skin tingled. Every bruise that mended left a dull ache where the wound once was. “Please be careful,” Aggu said. “It’s dangerous if nightfall catches you. So stay close to the path and keep your dagger at the ready. You have twice the usual offering so it should be more than enough.”

“Mother….” Wyrn hesitated.

“Don’t worry about your father. Of course, he wouldn’t let you go without an offering. He acts contrary but he wants you to succeed. We all do.” After a moment, she held Vadde’s face. “Good luck.”

Vadde still kept her head hung as the wagon started to move. They didn’t head down into the village, but instead in the opposite direction, further into the forest.

Time and life came back to Vadde and she took in the last of the huts as they passed. The sound of rushing water closed in. It was when they crossed the river that she reached out to hold the reins.

Wyrn allowed the mule to come to a halt. They were ages from their home.

He shivered. Vadde feared he wouldn’t allow her to hold his hand but he held hers instead.

“We don’t have much time,” he muttered. When she didn’t answer, he brushed her hair back, worried. “Are you still hurt?”

Vadde’s body began to tremble as well. A deep sense of shame washed over her.

The prince was here. Orm. That man was here. And she struggled to understand how or why. But then a thought made that anguish all the more shameful. Orm’d seen. He’d seen Wyrn’s people because of her. Because of her and the damn fairies.

“Princess, please.” Wyrn held her face, gentle but firm. “We must reach The Living Goddess before night catches us.”

She turned from his grip and he didn’t counter her action.

“How dangerous is this for you?”

His attempt at holding her hand yet again came with more determination. It contrasted his soft voice. “As dangerous as someone who couldn’t hear what we are now knowing it.”

At his words, Vadde tensed.

He knew.

Her mind raced as she tried to find out when he’d discovered that secret.

“You know,” he said. “You know what we are. So please, let’s continue on before my father catches wind of it. Because then, there’s no more chances or talk. He’ll take action. These are all laws of The Living Goddess. He will not—cannot afford to offend her yet again.” His dire warning came with a squeeze of the hand. “So please…. Let’s continue on.”

But she grabbed his arm before he could do just that.

Vadde tightened her hold. As of now, her concern was the damn fairy and less so for herself and more so for what the one below the shield might do. “I’m sorry,” was all she could manage.

“So long as you take the oath before we meet her, you’ll be safe. We’ll be all right then.”

She turned those words over in her head then formed one conclusion. “My slight to the Fae comes to all of you?”

Per his habit, he hesitated but for once, he was forthright. “That’s what it means to be a couple. We face things together.”

Breathing heavy, Vadde paced herself and asked, “Where is Orm?”

That one name stole all the air from between them.

Wyrn’s voice no longer held worry and panic when he asked, “Why do you care?”

Vadde cared because the bastard was a prince—a prince who’d stumbled upon a family of giants. Maybe not a family, an entire valley of them. A valley of giants harboring a princess. That should have been Wyrn’s concern. Not her.

“Where is he?” Vadde asked again.

In this silence, Wyrn whispered through the heartbreak, “And I’ve asked you, why do you care?” He swallowed hard, fearful. “You can’t leave with him. You and I have already consummated.”

Vadde closed her eyes tighter. How foolish. She didn’t want to leave. She’d fight the bastard to stay but….

“Please. Your father was right. I’m no prize. I’ve only caused trouble. And—and now the business with the Fae. Your family won’t forgive me after that. I think my father gave me to you because you were gentle.” Her throat tightened. “And you are kind of simple, I suppose.”

“Don’t,” Wyrn begged. “Don’t provoke me. I can hear it in your voice. We’ll discuss this once we’ve reached the temple.”

There would be no rest for Wyrn’s family with Orm now in the know. And what of the fairies? What of this curse?

From the start this was something she was holding onto that she shouldn’t.

“Where is the prince?” she asked again.

Wyrn turned her to him, begging, “Please stop asking about another man and at least look at me. Explain to me what’s happened—what I’ve risked!”

Vadde trembled. Flashes of him growing only to be struck by a flaming catapult came and went. Giants had size and power but not endurance. Eventually they’d sleep, far longer than a normal person. All legends had said.

A massacre now or a massacre later. It was still death. Giving their identity to someone who could not hear freely went contrary to the goddess. Would that mean losing her protection?

She tried to climb out of the wagon but his hand held her shoulder.

“Princess….”

Vadde’s body shook as she shut her eyes tighter. “It’s not right of me to impose on your family any longer.”

His coarse fingers ran along her chin, guiding her to meet eyes with him. The kiss was soft and held longing and she didn’t respond to it.

“What is wrong? Just yesterday we were so different. We were perfect. Don’t you remember it? Why won’t you fight for us?”

“You should follow your laws.”

He wouldn’t move.

The warm hand on her face made her cringe. “Please,” she whispered.

But she wasn’t the only one begging, “Explain it to me. Tell me what I’ve done wrong. What mistake I’ve made. I’ll correct it. You’re talking as if you want to leave.”

A tear fell from Vadde’s right eye, traveling down her cheek until Wyrn brushed it aside. Now a second tear came, and he caught that one as well. But he couldn’t contend with the others that began tumbling down.

“Princess.”

His effort to guide her chin this time was fruitless as she resisted. He was more than strong enough to grip her face and make her meet eyes with him. But he didn’t.

Instead, he kissed her throat, the side not injured by the fairy, then made an attempt to hold her.

Hands on his chest, she kept him back.

“Please stop pushing me away. I’m trying my best for you,” he insisted. “You don’t know what I risk—what I’ve already risked.”

“Where’s the prince?”

At the silence that time, she regretted her words.

His voice sounded equally as shaky as he pressed his body to hers and kissed her cheek then mouth, whispering, “You don’t need a prince. You have me.”

Her grip on his shirt was steady even as he ran his hands up her torso. For eons, Vadde didn’t dare open her mouth. When space and time stopped, she’d already whispered, “I’m cursed. My father gave me to you because I’m cursed.”

Wyrn’s breathing slowed. His grip started to loosen but he corrected his action and held her steady. “All right. What’s the curse do? What are the terms?”

In this Vadde was ashamed. She found herself useless. Nothing. She knew absolutely nothing. From the very basics of life to even her own demise. Not a thing. Like driftwood flung into the sea, she was simply floating along like a fool.

So, when Wyrn pulled her close in a tight embrace, she felt rescued. “Jaffo are good with curses. We’re good with correcting magic. So long as you know who cursed you. Do you know that much?”

Vadde was relieved she could be of some use. “The Living Goddess.”

His hands fell away.

It wasn’t slow or with hesitation. It was a retreat. A desertion.

When their eyes met, he looked ready to cry. “That’s why you couldn’t hear our true form,” he marveled. “And you never once told me that you’ve brought a curse from the deity we serve into our very homes! You’d moved from house to house without ever telling anyone?”

A hollow formed where her heart used to be. For months now, she hadn’t felt like she had back home. No one had scurried away whenever she neared. No one cast salt about them after giving her a daily lesson. No one hurried to the shrine after working in the palace where she roamed.

Until now.

Defeated, Vadde tried to climb down. The grip on her waist made her feel weak.

“We’ll go and correct it.”

“Let me go.”

“We can correct it. We’ll find a sacrifice—we have a sacrifice. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have scorned you. I know how that feels. I was simply shocked. I’m sorry.”

She wanted to twist free—she thought to. There were so many problems she caused. So when gray skies rolled in, she almost felt responsible for that as well. “What would you have done if I’d have said it sooner?”

He chose his words with care, “If Father had known, he would have driven you out.”

“If you had known—you specifically.”

This answer came softer. “I would have panicked at the thought of being humiliated, so I would have blown up and told you to go.” He ran his fingers down her arm and took hold of her hand. “And then I would have come to my senses and chased after you.” When she gave no response, he leaned to the right to see her face but had little success. “We’ll correct it,” he promised. “But you must help me lighten my load. The fairy. Where is it?”

“Will the curse transfer to you? Become the responsibility of you and your people?”

“You are my responsibility. Where is it?”

But it hardly seemed fair. “Please answer me first.”

Instead of his usual words of comfort, Wyrn repeated, “Where is the fairy?”

She sat defiant. This was no longer some simple mistake of her dropping a bucket of milk. People’s lives were involved. What justified her selfishly dragging them into this? In her heart, she felt fractured, but on the surface, she wore the defiance of a princess. She prayed it would deter him. The little fairy might have been dead and as of now, it was only Vadde who stood to lose from it. What would that mean for them?

Wyrn’s expression was somber. He leaned to the right until he could catch her gaze. “Do you know when I leave this place, whatever I come back with is never the best of what the shopkeeper had to offer. In the valley, I have no trouble—these are my father’s people. But outside of it—I was always afraid to venture further. No matter the task my father gave me, I knew, guaranteed, I’d be cheated.” He ran his fingers down her arms then took hold of her hand. “For a time, I saw you that way, too.”

A tear escaped Vadde’s strong façade.

“But I don’t anymore. Even when I go somewhere and come back with over half my supply spoiled, I don’t mind. The good bits just look a hundred times better. And that’s because of you. I don’t see you as something less. And yes, I—I’ve faltered today a bit but…. The day I met you, I came back defeated. But you’re the good lot. It’s because of you why I can see the good of my cargo. You’re the good and I’ll protect you. But I can’t do that if you won’t let me. Don’t lie to me anymore. Don’t keep anything from me anymore. Please. I don’t have much time. Please let me fight for what we have.” He hesitated then whispered, “Where’s the fairy?”

Vadde trembled. She searched for some courage to make him angry—angry enough to abandon her to whatever punishment resulted from her foolish actions. When she opened her mouth, that was the intent. Instead, a sob came, and words tumbled out with it. “I’m sorry. I hadn’t meant for this to happen. I should have told you.”

Wyrn ran his fingers down her skin again, soothing. “Where is it?”

“Your shield. It’s as I’ve said; it’s in your shield.”

It took some time for him to lean away to take her in. “Yes, you have said that….”

“You think I’m a liar.”

“No. But maybe confused. It’s not supposed to open without me awake. And I’m not—I’m not allowed to open it,” Wyrn insisted.

“But you had intended to.”

“I had. I was willing to do whatever necessary. We’re only supposed to show our form after the oath.” He squeezed her hand. “And I chose to go against that for you. I don’t know if I should go against it now, especially before meeting The Living Goddess.”

Vadde shed a tear. “You don’t believe me.”

Wyrn took a deep breath before looking her in the eye. “The rules are there to protect us. I’ve already broken one and allowed you to see us without telling my father. I—I hesitate to betray our ways yet again. But…but I will. But you must tell me something else.”

Swallowing hard, Vadde nodded.

“How did you call for the prince?”

All life left Vadde’s body, leaving a shell in the shock. “I hadn’t,” she whispered. When he didn’t answer, she took insult. “Of course, I hadn’t. Why would I? How could you accuse me of this?”

Wyrn wet his bottom lip then explained, “It’s not easy for him to find us.”

“And how am I supposed to send word?”

“With—with someone from the village, perhaps.”

“A village I can’t enter! Are you forgetting that?”

In her fury, she seethed but he appeared frail. “I thought you’d said you’d never attempted to go there.”

She had to focus on his collar to escape the heartbreak in his eyes. “I never said that.”

“Never?”

The accusation had her confessing. “No. I never said that. I…I just made you believe that.”

“If you’d wanted to leave—”

“I never wanted to leave.” She picked her head up and shouted, “You’re the one constantly pushing me away. You’re the one always trying to cast me aside.” Though she calmed, her chest still heaved. “You were the one who’d said you’d sent for him. Not I.”

Instead of answering her directly, he sounded on the verge of tears when he asked, “You had not called for him? You swear this?”

Vadde was the one to shed a tear. He didn’t believe her. But with the conviction of his words, she started to doubt all she’d known as well. These questions were his way of testing her loyalty—to see if she was worth the risk. So much for good cargo. Thick clouds crept across the sky, dulling the sun.

“It’s in your shield.”

He kept his eyes on her. “All right,” he breathed out. “You want me to open it. Then I’ll open it.”

With a shaky breath, Vadde thought to plead her case. Despite the dull sunlight at his back, her vision blurred. Smoke seeped in from all directions. Something was familiar about it.

By the time she focused on Wyrn again, he’d shed his shirt.

The words wouldn’t come, so he put both hands on the buckles and the leather glowed blue. The first seal broke. Wyrn glanced at it. The light illuminated against his face at the second seal’s release. Wyrn trembled when he shrugged the shield off. It fell from his back and landed in the dirt with a dull clang.

After that, he didn’t move. “Princess….”

The worry in his eyes was why Vadde tried to reach for him. At the brush of her fingers across his cheek, his body crumbled, and he slipped off the wagon.

“Wyrn!”

He struck the ground without a sound and Vadde jumped down and rushed around to him. More smoke filled her vision. She could still make him out. Her voice came out gargled and strangled. “Wyrn?”

Vadde held Wyrn’s face, but he wouldn’t rouse. That wasn’t all, he looked bigger. With every second she knelt there with him, he grew. And grew. Amazed, she watched his stature grow until she was barely the size of his hand.

She would have marveled about that if not for a scraping sound. Something dragged in the dirt. Wyrn wasn’t the only one massive.

The shield. It had a life of its own, uprooting the soil as it tried to get to its master. Despite its metal, it moved from side to side like some giant parasitic beast. It was revolting but it was also magic.

Vadde swallowed down her disgusted scream. She wanted to keep it away, to fight it off. It had already done its job of allowing Wyrn to grow. But how could the shield grow as well? Even when it passed by, the leather lining drew her focus because those were the bits moving like the belly of a slug. Those were the enchanted areas, not the shield itself.

So why was it so big?

There was no way to get it off. Vadde raced to it, intent on stopping them joining once more, but the shield rose up and sucked itself onto Wyrn’s back. The binds reaffixed.

Now with that, there was nothing left to do but wait.

So, Vadde waited. And waited. Wyrn didn’t shrink down.

“No. No. You must.” Vadde hurried around to the other side of him. Huge rocks lined his body. Regret filled her so quickly that she could hardly move. Now what? The fairy was still gone, consumed by the magic of the shield, and now there was no way to change Wyrn back. She had no idea how.

A gust of wind thinned the smoke. Vadde looked behind her and was horrified to find the wagon now massive as well. She stood to take it in.

Wyrn wasn’t bigger. She…was smaller.

And she wasn’t alone. A pale hand reached down and gripped her. The world teetered off its axis as she rose into the air. Now with her tiny stature, the figure in the smoke was a fright. The face to greet Vadde was a relief until two lips opened and smoke bellowed out. It was thick, forming into gobs of white and black with no end.

The fog rolled in, and she searched it. Because she knew it. It was the same fog from that day….

“You shouldn’t have opened the shield,” a strangled voice said.