Chapter 7 #2
Still, I was stumped and slightly concerned at my vivid interest in the warrior. I needed to keep my thoughts clear if I was to save my uncle.
Frowning, I hurried away and continued my travel north, knowing that Kole Swordwielder was falling farther behind me, and I tried as hard as I could not to wonder what the Imperial Warrior was up to now.
On the eve of my fifth day traveling, a bitterly cold wind descended from the north.
I’d been steadily following the seekerill’s direction and could only hope I was on the right path, because one thing had become entirely apparent.
The seekerill wanted me to go north. Far north, it would seem. Which meant cold and snow.
However, the one saving grace was that most fae weren’t searching where I was. I’d inquired with several wildlings the previous evening to learn what they knew, and among their far-reaching chatter, I’d learned that most siltenites were scouring the eastern shores for the Stone.
But that didn’t mean my hunt would be easy. I shivered, thinking what was in store for me. At the very tip of Stonewild Kingdom, the Brashier Sea waited, the iciest and coldest sea in the fae lands. I could only hope the Stone hadn’t landed there.
Since I’d entered Stonewild from its western border, I was already north of Stonewild’s capital, Jaggedston, and well beyond the heat of the Shadow Valley Desert. The Wildland Mountains loomed, and not for the first time since departing Whiteolf, a moment of trepidation hit me.
The farther north one traveled in Stonewild, the wilder the terrain became.
Fierce creatures were said to roam the Wood there, and I hadn’t even seen half of what was to come.
Silventine Wood was on the very tip of Stonewild Kingdom, and I prayed the Stone hadn’t landed there either.
If it had, I would be lucky if I made it back to Whiteolf alive.
Nerves tumbling anew, I tried to concentrate on staying warm.
I had a small fire burning around me by using my elemental magic, and I’d kept it alight all day as I’d flown down the road.
I’d also used my magic to heat my blood, but that was rather tiring, so I’d stopped doing that mid-afternoon and only used the warmth my outward fire produced.
But elemental magic was my weakest magic, so by evening time, my fire was flickering.
My only consolation was that I’d continued to move fast, but by the evening, even my speed didn’t provide comfort despite the fact that I was making good progress.
A storm was brewing. Above, swirling navy and indigo clouds blanketed the pale green sky, the sun hidden entirely. It would be a true gale from the looks of it.
I tried not to worry over what was to come, but I was tired, achy, and my fingertips were numb despite my fire.
It didn’t help that I hadn’t had anything warm to eat since leaving Whiteolf, and the newly formed cold brought that fact back with icy clarity.
The thought of a hot cup of tea and a steaming plate of roasted ustorill and herbed potatoes had my mouth watering and my stomach cramping, so when I came upon a small village south of the mountains, I paused.
Dusk was nearly upon me, and the scent of impending snow filled the air. I hovered silently on my carpet, taking in the small village that, according to a sign, was called Inisville.
Inisville wasn’t large, and I guessed no more than a few hundred fae lived there, but there was a salopas ringing with lively song down the main lane. Lights also burned in houses, and several shops were still open.
The village was so tiny it didn’t fall on any of my maps, but like most Silten villages, the Wood had been welcomed into its fold versus trying to deter it.
Branches wove around siding, leaves sprouted from rooftops, and the scent of the Wood permeated the air.
A few fae were walking through the streets, locals most likely given their casual and unhurried strides.
I bit my lip, contemplating what to do. A village promised a night of shelter. It also promised a hot meal.
But staying here could attract attention. Unwanted attention.
Who knew what other travelers were here or what they would try to do if they knew I was hunting the Stone and that I’d come prepared with weeks of supplies. A memory of the two creeps who’d followed me rose in my mind.
I nibbled my lip and eyed the north again. Jagged peaks that were as black as tar rose from the Wood not far in the distance. Rocky terrain, steep roads, and who knew what kind of creatures waited for me up there.
Another gust of wind hit me, and my flames entirely flickered out.
“Oh Stars, screw it.” I whispered a command, and my carpet leaped forward as I ignored the road heading north toward the mountains and instead flew to Inisville.
Tomorrow I would venture into the Wildland Mountains, but tonight I would have decent sleep, cooked food, and an endless cup of hot tea.
Shivering, I flew slowly down the main street, then stopped at the only inn from the looks of it. A sign declaring Wildlands Inn hung above the door, and across the street, the lively music in its only salopas grew.
I hopped off, stacked my supplies by the door, then rolled up my carpet and tucked it into the outdoor storage space provided by the inn.
Gritting my teeth, I carried all of my supplies into the inn’s entryway in several trips, opting not to use my telekinetic magic, which would only draw attention.
Cold wind blew around me, and with only my pack left, I breathed a sigh of relief. I swung it onto my back and was about to enter the inn to finally check in, but a flash of steel caught my eye.
I swung around just in time to see a pair of sapphire eyes gleaming down at me. My jaw dropped, and I automatically took a step back.
“Kole,” I said, my voice sounding as surprised as I felt. He’d approached me silently, from who knew where, and I hadn’t even realized anyone was about.
Another fierce gust of wind kicked up, causing the dark hair on the top of the warrior’s head to ruffle.
He was dressed in warmer gear than what I’d seen him in previously.
Thick black breeches, tall boots, and a long-sleeved tunic of royal blue with emerald stitching covered his broad frame.
Stonewild colors. He’d had the foresight to change into something the locals were likely to wear, probably to blend in better than I currently was.
But as before, the same sword was strapped to his back, definitely not local.
Kole took a step toward me, closing the distance between us, and if he felt any surprise at seeing me again, he hid it entirely.
Instead, he reached around me, grabbed the handle to the inn’s door, and opened it. “After you.”