A Perfect World

Chapter 18

AELIN POV

They had been hiking for days. Now Aelin wasn't particularly lazy. In fact, she loved a good hike or kicking some ass every now and then. But, she had eaten way too much dried meat at this point. Though it was summer and fruit abounded in the forest through which they travelled, most plants were either poisonous, guarded by something poisonous, or an acquired taste. So dried meat it was for her in the forest of doom. On the off chance that they did run into something edible, Lorcan would offer it to Elide—and though he tried to do so begrudgingly, Aelin wasn't convinced that he held any sort of grudge against Elide. Who could? She was the kindest person Aelin had ever known. That's exactly why Aelin didn't complain about it, or take up Elide's on her offer of whatever food Lorcan had given to her.

"How much longer?" Aelin asked. 

Unsurprisingly, Lorcan ignored her. She looked at Elide for help. If Elide asked him, they were entirely more likely to get an answer. But just as Elide was about to ask, Lorcan suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. They were still in the middle of the forest—no sight of any fortress ahead. Unless... was it maybe glamored? Could they be here already? Relief lit up Aelin's face.

"Don't move," Lorcan said. His voice was soft, barely above a whisper and rigid with tension. 

Aelin froze. 

Lorcan backed himself towards Elide, crouching halfway. Not hesitating, Aelin did the same, the two of them forming a protective ring around Elide. 

"You two have to do exactly what I say," he gritted out. "We have to run. I'll take Elide. Aelin, when I say shift, you shift and run. Mistward—"

"Wait—what? Shift? I can't—" A tidal wave of fear surged through her.

"Fuck. It smelled you—just run!"

Not a half a second later, Lorcan threw up a shield of dark magic and something collided with it. 

"Run!" he yelled. 

Aelin didn't let herself pause to think. She grabbed Elide and just ran. All she felt was fear. Beyond that, nothing. Their surroundings blurred past them as they ran. Her brain was still preoccupied on the image of fangs, wrinkled skin and that gods-awful smell. Her senses were going hazy but she pumped her arms and legs as fast as she could with Elide in tow. 

"Faster!" she urged Elide. 

Elide couldn't even respond. The girl was at her limit, panting sharply. They had only just started running, but Aelin was going fast. Elide, with her still-injured foot, couldn't keep up. 

Aelin swore under her breath. She heard an otherworldly screech behind them. She had no idea how Lorcan was fearing. 

"Elide, I'm going to shift! Keep going. I'll catch up!" Aelin shouted. 

"What—No! Lorcan said to run!" 

"I know, but this way I'll be faster and I could carry you. I promise I'll catch up. Just go!"

So Elide kept running as Aelin slowed her pace. When Elide had passed her and was at least a few yards away, Aelin stopped. She swallowed air, trying to keep her panting down—trying to make as little sound as possible. If that thing slipped past Lorcan, there was no way she would be able to outrun it, unless she managed to shift. 

The last time she had shifted was when they had crossed Terrasen's border into Adarlan. It had been involuntary. It had been painful. Every cell in her human body had cried out against it and the memory of that intrusion of her other self was only slightly less petrifying than her current circumstance.