Chapter 3 Ayden #2
He shook his head. “I don’t know. A lot of this doesn’t make sense; but they have an army camped on the other side of these mountains, and battalions with trebuchets ready to cross. Who needs trebuchets for war games?
Or for defensive maneuvers against a neighbor whose police force is stronger than their army?”
I tried to come up with an answer, to argue that all of this was a ruse or mummer’s farce, but I couldn’t. Sil, through her bird, had seen the camps and machines. War was coming.
Declan leaned forward and took my hands in his. I withered beneath his gaze.
“Ayden, swear to me that you will never tell a soul anything from this point forward. Not a word about where we are now or where we are going. Not a word about what you may see when we get there.”
His hands trembled in mine, and that alone stilled all protest.
“On my honor as a Ranger, and by the Phoenix, I swear.”
A smile crept onto Declan’s face. “I’ll take the honor thing, but we both know you think the Phoenix tastes like chicken.”
I spat out a laugh and squeezed his hands. “Chicken? More like snake or lizard. Slimy bastard, she is.”
“Wow. You made the holiest symbol on the whole continent taste bad and blasphemous in one statement. Nice work.”
I gave him a mocking bow.
“Let’s get to the good part now, please.”
His lips pursed. “Fine. We’re going to another cave.”
I waited.
He stared.
The wind howled.
“That’s it? After all that promising and shit, that’s all I get?”
“Yep, lordling, that’s it.” He grinned, then nodded. “Can we eat our lunch in peace now?”
“I still hate you. You know that, right?”
“Hate you more,” he said, ripping off a piece of dried meat and popping it into his mouth.
I dug through my pack and settled on a dinner of dried beef and apples.
As a Ranger, I was used to sparse rations but couldn’t stop images of roasted meats dripping with fat and an ocean of peppery buttered vegetables from invading my mind.
“Never thought I would miss the Academy’s dining hall,” I mused, chewing the meat for the hundredth time without making it the least bit softer.
Declan finished his meat, dusted off his cloak, and leaned against a tree, closing his eyes. Surrounded by trees halfway up a mountain, he looked more peaceful than at any time since we had met. I watched the rise and fall of his chest as I ate.
Is he really mine? How could I ever be so lucky?
A sudden movement to Declan’s right pricked my senses. Slowly, I reached to where my bow rested against the log and readied to nock, then peered into the rustling foliage. What emerged a heartbeat later made a smile crease my face.
Declan’s eyes opened, but he remained frozen.
A fuzzy baby owl, no larger than my balled fist, tottered up to Declan’s foot, hopped a couple of times, and froze.
The feathers around the little bird’s legs were a pale gold and puffed out to resemble a mummer’s pantaloons, while its head was hooded in charcoal plumes with a splash of white that rose to form snowy brows.
Its head swiveled, leaving its body facing Declan. I couldn’t help grinning at the black eyes with golden rings that never wavered in their piercing glare.
When I crouched and scooted forward, the owl turned back to Declan and began hopping up and down and peeping urgently.
“Hi there, little guy.”
Declan sat up and faced the bird with his legs crossed. The peeping and hopping accelerated, so he reached down to where the last of his dried meat lay wrapped in a cloth and tore off a piece, slowly reaching it out.
The owl froze.
It swiveled its head to the right, then to the left, then back to the right.
It turned and looked at me, then spun to stare at Declan and the proffered meat.
In a blink, the owl darted forward, snatched the meat, and raced to perch on Declan’s pack sitting a few paces away.
“Quick little guy, aren’t ya?”
Declan glanced up at me, and my amused gaze mirrored his.
The owl stopped ripping long enough to peep a piece of its little mind in Declan’s direction before resuming its meal.
Declan looked stunned.
“That felt like the bird was speaking to you—or yelling. It didn’t sound happy about something. Although, it could’ve been thanking you for the meat. My owl is a little rusty.”
Declan rolled his eyes, smiled, and looked back at the owl. “Uh, what was that all about? You don’t like the meat?”
The owl focused on its dinner, ignoring Declan.
“So that’s not it. Hmm. You’re not a little guy, are you?”
The owl dropped the meat and hopped a few times.
Blink, blink.
“We’ve hardly been on this trip for a solid day and I’m losing my mind. Did the owl just answer me?”
My eyes were as wide as his. “I think so. Sweet Spirits.”
Declan cocked his head as the owl had done a moment earlier. “All right. Sorry about that . . . uh . . . miss.”
We watched the creature devour her last bite, then hop off the pack, edge closer, then scurry back a step.
She did this several times, each new attempt closing the gap between them by a few inches.
Finally, when I thought she might run away into the safety of the forest, the golden blur darted from the pack and hopped onto Declan’s legs.
He froze.
The owl pecked and scratched, then settled into the crease between his outstretched legs and began cleaning her feathers.
A moment later, preening complete, she nuzzled deeper into the crevice between his shins and closed her eyes, emitting a long whirring sound that reminded me of a cat’s satisfied purr.
“Is it asleep?” I asked.
“She,” he corrected. “And yeah, I think so. Her eyes are closed, and her breathing looks slower. Can you hear that little purr sound?”
I crept closer and sat a pace away.
“You know, we just sorted out that we, well, like each other and all. Do you think it’s too soon to get a pet?”
Declan’s face contorted and turned bright red.
“Don’t make me laugh,” he hissed. “I don’t want to wake her.”
“I’m sorry to tell you, but we don’t have time to let Her Highness nap. We have a mysterious cave to find, remember?”
Declan’s smile faded. “Shit. For a moment, I let myself just enjoy sitting here. Not the smartest thing in the world with half the Kingdom’s scouts roaming the mountains, is it?”
“Half? The King has every scout in the country scouring these forests. We need to move.”