But as she walked behind the tethered horses, her gaze alighted on a tall cloaked figure standing on the northern edge of their camp. Her pulse skittered. She hadn’t realized someone else was taking their turn at the watch. They hadn’t been there earlier.
As she walked by, the individual turned. Torchlight gilded a pale face with chiseled features. A sharp gaze glanced off her. Wynn Sablebane.
His expression was impassive, yet her cheeks burned even hotter. The things she and Alar had just said to each other were private. They’d kept their voices low, yet there had been moments when they’d both forgotten themselves.
Had Sablebane heard Alar’s story too?
Alar surveyed the magnificent red stag. It stood with regal stillness. The first glimmers of dawn highlighted a coat of deep russet red dappled with patches of burnished gold and cream—a masterwork of autumn hues. His massive antlers crowned him, twelve points of polished bone spreading wide enough to frame his noble head.
Tearing his gaze from the stag, Alar glanced over at where the Raven Queen looked on from astride her white elk. Dorka sat next to her, oddly placid this morning. “You’re giving him to me?”
“For the time being,” Mor answered.
“He wasn’t with you yesterday … where did he come from?”
“I hailed him.”
“We thought you might like to ride a stag,” Vyr added. “You are half Shee, after all.”
Surprised, Alar shifted his attention to Mor’s cousin. Unlike Sablebane and Fern, who both watched him with shuttered expressions from atop their own stags, Vyr was smiling. His face was slightly drawn this morning though—no doubt since he’d ended up warding the perimeter for most of the night. Mor had risen from the fire pit near dawn and taken her turn, yet her cousin had done most of the work.
Alar tensed, searching the male’s face for mockery or scorn. He found none. Vyr was in earnest, it seemed. His sincerity made Alar wary.
“Go on, mount,” Vyr urged, leaping up onto his elk’s back.
Alar hesitated. The stag was eyeing him with its head lowered, as if considering whether to charge him. These beasts likely only permitted Shee to ride them. Was this a test he was about to fail? He was also aware that the rest of their company—Lara and her escort—had already mounted and were watching him. Was he about to be humiliated?
“There’s no saddle or bridle,” he replied.
“You won’t need them,” Vyr assured him.
“You do realize I can’t touch minds with animals?”
“You won’t need to,” Mor said, amusement flickering across her face. Upon her shoulder, Eagal gave a short, barking caw. “Reedav will follow the rest of us … and if you speak to him, he will understand.”
“Aye … although he may not choose to obey,” Fern quipped, her tone cutting.
Alar glanced back at the waiting beast.Stag king—the name was a noble one. His dark liquid eyes, full of sharp intelligence, held a challenge.
Bracing himself, he moved forward and swung up onto the stag’s back—not easy, for Reedav stood taller than most horses. However, Alar was nimble.
The stag didn’t move, and as Alar settled himself onto the beast’s back, the warmth of its body burned like a furnace through his leather breeches and into his skin. Wonder filtered up, and his breathing grew shallow. It was an honor to travel upon such an animal.
Alar looked around then, his gaze sliding over the surrounding Shee to where Lara and her escort waited. Eithne and Duana observed him with frank fascination, while curiosity gleamed in the gazes of the others, Lara included. Bree even looked a little envious. Of course. He’d heard that she’d once ridden a white stag, one that had run as swiftly as the Four Winds. He wondered if Reedav was just as fast.
He glanced back at Mor then, to find her watching him intently. “Thank you,” he said softly, oddly humbled.
They set off, and like the day before, the Shee quickly outpaced the Marav on their faster steeds. They rode deep into The Goatfells this morning. The huge peaks loomed overhead, blocking out a pale-pink sky. Unfortunately, The Gaulas whirled around them. The air was oddly mild, yet it smelled musky.Rank. The protective net Vyr and Mor had woven overnight had fallen away, and the wind found them immediately.
The first assault came swift and precise, a blade between his ribs.
They only gave you the stag out of pity.
The gift—something that had pleased him—now curdled in Alar’s gut. How easy to please he was. All the Shee had to do was throw the mongrel a bone and watch how he wagged his tail.
He locked his jaw tight enough to ache then, resisting the heckling.
Lara will use the things you told her against you. The voices slammed into him again.She will exploit your weaknesses.
