“Thank you, my lady. There is an old trade route north-east of here,” he said to Zev as he turned the pages to the map. “It is steep terrain, not favorable for heavy caravans, and less likely we will meet other travelers there.”
“Well, I found a quicker way to the port,” Zev said
“Have you? I do not recall a shorter path in these lands.”
Zev crouched beside him and pointed at a large body of water on the map, on the north of the range. “We can cross through the Saxe Fjord that cuts through the mountains. This way, we don’t have to go around it and the route is secluded. It’ll make up for lost time.”
“Ah.” Rawn rubbed his jaw. “I would not advise it. Allegedly, grindylows dwell within the fjord. They are carnivorous creatures that take pleasure in drowning their victims before consuming them.”
“It’s merely a rumor. Some say it’s grindylows. Others say it’s kelpies or selkies. Have you crossed the Saxe River or the Saxe Fjord before?”
Rawn frowned as he closed the journal. “I traversed the Saxe River whilst passing through the western peaks of the Zafiro Mountains to reach Landcaster.”
“Did you see any grindylows?”
“I did not.”
“Then it must only be rumors.” Zev shrugged and took the journal so he could study the map tonight.
“It’s not.” Lucenna lurked in the shadow of her tent, watching them.
She had stood so motionless and quiet, neither of them had noticed her there until now. Zev inwardly groaned. How much had she heard?
“A nest of grindylows lie in the Saxe Fjord,” she said.
“How do you know?” he asked, shifting his stance to hide the journal behind him.
“Because that is exactly where I’m headed. I need one of their scales.”
“Whatever for?” Rawn asked.
The astonishment taking over his expression matched the one on Zev’s face. What could she possibly want with that?
Lucenna crossed her arms, observing them each for a stretch of a moment, calculating something. The firelight glinted on her medallion, reflecting in her lilac eyes. Whatever she saw in them seemed to lead to a decision.
“The scale isn’t for me,” she said, her mouth curling in a puckish smile. “It’s for the Druid.”
Chapter 9
Dynalya
Several questions rushed to the tip of Dyna’s tongue, but she held them back, waiting for the sorceress to answer them on her own. Lucenna’s silvery-white hair flowed around her as she cocked her head at their silence.
Cassiel broke the quiet first. “Should we know who you speak of?”
“You may not have heard of him,” she said, shrugging. “The Druid of the Moors is a seer of sorts.”
“You speak of Leoake,” Rawn said.
“You know him?” Dyna asked.
Rawn nodded. “I have met him in passing. Interesting fellow. He lives in the Court of the Phantasmic Moors if memory serves. Home of the Wild Fae.”
Dyna caught her cousin subtly handing Cassiel the journal before Lucenna noticed. He slid it behind his back, hidden by his wings.
Zev stood, drawing the sorceress’s attention. “That’s nearby.”
“Precisely.”
