Hazel
“Ihave sent word to the Bluecap we will be joining him soon,” Warden says, stuffing a sack filled with apples into his saddlebags.
He thinks I haven’t seen them. But I know Warden and apples, which is why I also have some in the pretty embroidered backpack one of the witches has given me.
Our stay here, for the last week, has been nothing short of amazing. I can’t remember the last time I felt so…happy.
I want to get to my sister as well as wanting to get back to the tavern, but knowing they are all out there is enough for me to be able to relax, to enjoy my time with Warden, my big bad Brag who has been more than happy himself to indulge not just me, but the locals in their suggestions for places we can be intimate.
Fortunately, they are happy to know we are doing the act, so we don’t end up with an audience. Even if there is occasional applause as we re-enter the castle ruins.
Or rather the fully functioning castle which looks like a ruin.
The Night Lands didn’t seem to have so much in the way of magic, and it’s taking a bit of getting used to.
Meg is, according to the other witches, extremely powerful as her magic is old earth magic, not derived from having a Faerie parent like most of them.
It would seem they all have their specific specialities.
The witch dressed in green, Bethany, is fantastic at making cures for just about any ill.
The witch who seemed to be a fifties throwback, Mary, has a talent for making clever machines powered by the wind or water to make all of their lives easier.
All of them use their magic to benefit the community, and at the very heart is Meg of Maldon. A witch I know has answers and who is not yet ready to impart any of them.
“What binds you is ancient,” she said. “It will unravel in its own time.”
I want to say I’ve had more than enough surprises for the time being, given I have regained my memory and my sister, as well as collected a large, monstrous mate in the form of Warden.
However, I do not respond.
Warden and I enter the courtyard, and there is a considerable crowd to see us off. I absolutely should have got used to the attention by now, but my cheeks still colour, as if no one knows what we’ve been doing for the last few days and I’d like to run away and hide.
But Lady Ryle, landlady of the Dark Gibbet doesn’t run away and so I channel who I thought I would be as Warden takes my hand, gives me an indulgent smile, and we walk out of the open gates into the farmland beyond.
“We should reach the Blucap’s lair by nightfall,” Warden says. “Providing we get over the moors and avoid the armies.”
“The armies? What armies? I thought all the wars were in the Night Lands,” I say, feeling the sword tingling at my side.
“Not all wars were in the Night Lands,” Warden replies. “The Yeavering is an ancient place, and there have been battles for centuries on its ground.”
“So, there are just roaming armies on the moors.”
“They are not…alive,” Warden says, a pained look on his face. “Not like you and me.”
“Zombie armies?”
“I do not know what a zombie is.”
“It’s, well, it’s a sort of reanimated corpse, just out for blood…and brains.”
Warden wrinkles his nose. “Humans are strange creatures. Do you have many zombies beyond the veil?”
I think for a while. “No. I think they’re made up. But then we didn’t believe the Faerie were real until the virus came.”
All this information was stored somewhere in my head, and it’s all coming out in an absolute flood.
“These armies are spectres,” Warden says. “But deadly.”
“I don’t really like the sound of any of that.”
“No one does.” Warden digs in his saddlebag and brings out two apples, giving one to me and taking a huge bite out of his. “Which is why we need to get over the moors before dark.”
“Okay.”
“I mean, they also move around during the day, but they’re easier to spot.”
“So, still just as dangerous?”
“Just as dangerous.” Warden raises an eyebrow. “But you have me.” He gazes at me with his dark eyes. “And I have you.” He grins widely before taking another bite and his apple is gone.
“Are you saying I’m dangerous?” I ask, attempting to keep the mirth from my voice.
“I wouldn’t want you to be anything else, my lady,” he replies. “No magic and yet you are in control of a sword which has slaughtered thousands? That’s the sort of danger I like.”
His words send a shiver through me. “Meg told you?”
“She didn’t need to. For all being immortal has taken from me, it has given as well, and I could tell immediately there was something about your weapon,” he says confidently.
“You didn’t mention it.”
“I didn’t need to.”
“Meg told you, didn’t she?” I take a bite of my apple, and even though he tries to hide it, Warden’s stride changes.
“Meg might have mentioned it in passing,” he says. “While you were recovering. She insisted it stay by your side. Your life force and it are inextricably linked.”
“What? She didn’t say anything like that to me.”
Warden slows his pace briefly and tugs at his left horn.
“Um…maybe that was the part I wasn’t supposed to tell you?” he suggests.
“I’m pleased you did,” I grumble. “I’ve enough secrets being kept by my own mind without you having to keep them from me.”
Warden speeds up again and I spot something unusual.
“Is that your…tail?” I ask, watching the great fluff swish back and forth excitedly.
Warden spins as he attempts to look at his own behind.
“Yes,” he says, happily. “It is.”