Chapter 11 Reckless Encounter
Reckless Encounter
As Sorcha and Riona stepped beyond the fringes of the Hollow, the tight coil of tension in Sorcha’s chest finally began to unwind.
Riona had just glanced at Sorcha, who trudged beside her in silence, when things shifted abruptly.
A sudden gust carrying a strange chill sent a shiver racing down Sorcha’s spine.
“Not again,” she thought as the air began to thicken.
This wasn’t the same dense, oppressive fog from before but something else entirely.
It was lighter and held an iridescent shimmer as the glow curled around their legs, rising higher with each breath.
Sorcha halted, her hands became sweaty, and a slight heat wave washed over her.
“Riona,” she murmured, her voice strained.
The mist deepened, swallowing the light, muffling all sound. Sorcha turned, reaching into the fog trying to feel for her.
“Riona!” she called, panic lacing her voice. “Where are you?”
A figure emerged from the haze, its silhouette sharp against the swirling clouds. Sorcha’s breathing was labored as Kyron stepped forward. His hair caught the faintest glimmer of light like smoldering embers. She let out a long exhale and met his gaze.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded, annoyance clear in his face. She gripped her dagger’s hilt tighter. The sudden urge to throw it at him flared, and she struggled to stay calm.
“Just taking a stroll through the forest.”
A smirk played across Kyron’s lips, the kind Sorcha wanted to wipe off.
“You and Riona, wandering into the Hollow with only arrows and a dagger? That’s either incredibly brave or incredibly foolish.
” Distant howls echoed through the trees.
Sorcha’s pulse quickened as Kyron glanced at the shadows, then back at her.
“Honestly, I’m betting on foolish, considering the look of your leg.
” He stopped pacing and leaned against a tree, arms crossed, gaze dropping to her leg.
Sorcha’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you care?” she snapped. “You’re the one who keeps vanishing and reappearing like a ghost.”
Kyron inhaled deeply, taking another step. “Just blindly walking—sorry—limping into danger,” he continued, ignoring her question, his voice softer. “You have no idea what you’re getting into.”
Sorcha set her jaw, refusing to back down. “Avoiding the question, I see. I can handle myself.”
Kyron tilted his head, studying her. He was close enough now that she had to look up to meet his eyes. “Can you?” he asked softly. Something in his tone made her breath catch. “You were lucky today.” He stepped closer, mere inches away. “Your birthright saved you.” The words chilled her.
She forced a scoff, shaking her head. “What?”
Kyron gave a low laugh, quiet and mocking. “You really don’t know?” His gaze held hers, unwavering. “Your runes aren’t just ink bound by laws, limits, Sorcha. They’re different, without limits. The kind of power that doesn’t need to be given. I know you feel it.”
Sorcha grew more frustrated with each word. “What are you talking about?”
Kyron took another step. “You’ll find out soon enough,” he murmured. Something in his voice unsettled her, making her feel as if the ground had shifted. Before she could demand more, the clouds swirled around him, twisting and swallowing him. And then, just like before, he was gone.
Loud singing cut through the fog. “Sorcha!”
Riona’s figure emerged from the haze, waving her arms as she called out.
Sorcha blinked, her mind still caught in the moment that had just vanished with Kyron.
Riona raced toward hers, grabbed her arm and practically shouted at her. “What happened?”
Sorcha hesitated, her throat dry. “I… lost sight of you for a second. It must have happened when I looked back.” Her voice trailed off as she tried to sound convincing.
Riona studied her for a moment before clicking her tongue.
“Come on,” she said, whistling for Briar to lead the way back to Lumora.
The ride back was silent. The rhythmic clatter of hooves was the only sound between them.
By the time they reached Lumora, the sky had deepened to indigo, with the warm glow of sap lanterns lining the streets.
The familiar sight of the Circle’s Heart came into view, and as they dismounted, Commander Nethran was already waiting at his desk.
The runes on his forearms flickered faintly in the dim lighting, casting patterns on the stone walls.
“You’re late,” he said, but then his eyes snapped to Sorcha’s leg. “What happened out there?”
Riona hesitated, glancing at Sorcha before answering. “The Wolves of the Wild Hunt is what, but then…”
Sorcha inhaled, then finished for her. “We think the Ceffyl D?r appeared… it was a massive horse made of water. It drove the wolves away.”
Unease crossed Nethran’s face. “A horse,” he repeated flatly. “A water horse. You must have been near a river.”
Sorcha nodded, shifting on her feet. “You definitely saw the Ceffyl D?r,” he said, exhaling through his nose. “Or at least, it let you see it.”
At her frown, he pushed off the table and started pacing. “It’s not a guardian. Not the way you’re probably thinking. The Ceffyl D?r isn’t here to help us. It doesn’t take sides.” He glanced at her. “But it is territorial.”
Riona, arms hanging beside her, raised a brow. “And it doesn’t like wolves in its territory?”
“Exactly. It doesn’t like anything in its territory.
” Nethran stopped near the map, fingers tapping absentmindedly against the edge.
“The old stories say the Ceffyl D?r belongs to the rivers and the mists, neither living nor dead. It doesn’t seek battles, but if something wanders too close into what it considers its own—it will act. Sometimes violently.”
Sorcha’s stomach tightened. “So we weren’t saved. We were just in the right place at the right time?”
He nodded. “Or the wrong place, depending on how you look at it.” He fixed her with a steady gaze. “You were lucky. If that thing had decided you were the intruders, you’d be at the bottom of the river right now.”
Riona scoffed. “Comforting.”
“Don’t mistake it for an ally,” Nethran warned. “It’s a force, not a friend. It moves with the river and shifts with the fog. And if you see it again, be sure you know which side of its waters you stand on.”
Neither Sorcha nor Riona had an answer. “We’ll discuss this further in the morning,” he
decided. “For now, let’s get that cleaned up.”
Sorcha gave a stiff nod as Commander Nethran had gently guided her to a chair. Grabbing medical supplies and rune-stones, he tended to the wound on her leg.
“Ow!” Sorcha yelped as Nethran cleaned the wound.
He chuckled. “Don’t be such a baby. It’s just a scratch.”
Sorcha shot him a glare. “Hell’s teeth, Commander! It hurts.”
He shook his head and finished bandaging it up as he tapped her leg. “All better. Riona, if you would help her out the door”