CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX #3
“On my own? Why? Where are you going?”
There was a flash of indigo in his eyes. He cocked his head to the side, stretching his neck. “To visit a very old friend. And to see how our girl is doing.”
Our girl. The real Olivay.
“Take me,” I said, suddenly.
He laughed.
“Take me with you,” I demanded.
“So you can what? Scare her again? Feed from her? Is that what you’re craving? A little lifeforce from Olivay? Please tell me that’s not why you choose to starve here.”
“No. Gods, no,” I said. That was the last thing I wanted to do to her. But … she’d been a captive for all of this time. Alone, and scared, and I wanted to make sure she was okay, not just to assuage my own guilt, but because I felt like I owed it to Noemay. “I want to check on her.”
“You check on her, and you’ll scare her half to death.”
I sighed. He was right. Plus, I’d be missed at the lodge.
And there was the female witch, whose words still haunted me.
“We meet again.”
“We’ve never met.”
“Not in this life. Not yours anyway.”
I definitely did not want to see her again. Whatever it was that she saw in me, whether it was the Azete or something else, something worse, she made me nervous.
I shook my head. “Just remember what I said. Olivay’s not to suffer, not any more than can be helped.” I retrieved the library books I’d gathered from the table and handed them to the Hermit. “At least give her these. She likes them.”
The Hermit sighed, looking extraordinarily put out by my request, but he finally nodded. “Fine. She will have them. Behave while I’m gone. I plan to return before dawn.”
He headed back into the hall, just as a cold breeze blew through the opened window with such force, it had nearly extinguished the flames.
The sky darkened, and I shivered. A storm was coming in.
A big one. Hopefully the Hermit would reach the caves before it started.
Hopefully Brennan and his men were safe and able to seek warm, and dry shelter when it did.
I reached for one of the blankets stored in a trunk beside my chair, and sent for Abigail to stock the library and my bedroom with more firewood.
I could tell from the drop in temperature I was going to need it.
She set about on her errand, and when she returned, the flames of the fireplace were stoked, bringing much needed warmth and light to the room.
And then I continued to read until I was too tired to continue.
When my eyes were beginning to close, I set down my book and stood, debating if it was too early or not for Abigail to help me prepare for bed. It wasn’t as late as it looked outside. But the sky was already overcast and dark, bringing the night early to the clearing.
I headed into my bedroom and looked out the window, feeling a chill in the air, and another running down my spine. Suddenly, a new sound burst through the night, blaring out the calls of the birds.
A horn. A hunting horn.
There were screams from women, and cries that sounded male.
“Help me!” It was Rowan. “Help!” he roared. More voices joined him.
I reached for my cloak, and swung it over my shoulders as I left my room and dashed out of the lodge into the clearing. A bonfire had been lit in the center where, just after dinner, a dozen nobles had gathered, listening to a minstrel and drinking wine.
They spread out, jumping out of their seats and racing toward the returning knights, yelling out for help.
Three of the hunters were carrying a man with dark hair, his body stretched out across a blue cape. Several moonstags soared above, their eagle wings spread wide and their movements frantic. They were riderless, all of them.
“They ambushed us!” Rowan cried.
I pushed my way into the crowd. King Dairen and Queen Noemay shouted out in horror, their emotions beginning to burst with love and worry and concern and fear, but none of it was being directed at me.
I moved closer, dread moving like a shadow across my heart, until I could clearly see the man on the cloak, being laid down on the grass, groaning in pain.
Kienan, Olivay’s cousin.
It looked like his armor had been torn in half, ripped right down the center. And oozing from his slashed tunic was blood.
“What happened?” King Tirian demanded. “Where are the others? Where’s my son?”
My heart lurched. Brennan. Where was Brennan?
“Chimera,” Rowan gasped, tears streaming down his face. “It was chimera. We-we managed to kill one. But we lost three men.” He looked up at the riderless moonstags.
“You killed one chimera?” the king asked.
Rowan nodded, his chest heaving. “We did. Fuck, it took all of us, but two more arrived and began dividing us, herding us into groups.”
Two more! There’d been three? Three chimera?
“Where is the prince!” the king roared.
“And my son!” yelled Lady Alena. She’d been at the bonfire, wearing a red and gray shawl in the colors of House Bathiner, her pale hair braided around the crown of her head.
“Brennan and Jaron are still down there with their men, fighting, they sent us back to get help, to save Kienan.”
Brennan stayed back.