They were the dead. And they didn’t give a shit.
Perhaps I wasn’t so tolerant.
Master Niallan should positively kill both of them.
The cave gradually opened to a cliff. Stars twinkled overhead, and waves crashed against the jagged, deadly rocks below. A bridge jutted out from the edge and carried over the Atlantic Ocean and stopped at a familiar road—sans snow storm. The gentle wind caressed my fur, and the scent of salt water pleased my snout.
Master Niallan pointed a finger. “Once we cross the bridge, the Arch of Sight is done. We’ll be beautiful once more.”
I adjusted my heavy bags in my grip. “Is that the road we started on?”
He nodded once in affirmation. “We’ll travel the same path to the heart of my stronghold.”
Awesome. These bags would weigh a ton by then.
The weather was pleasant, at least. Not too hot, not too cold. It was perfectly delightful.
I set my cumbersome bags down and took off my winter jacket. I chucked it at the Original druid—all the Overlords’ hands were full carrying their own luggage. “Hold that for me. And try not to ruin it.”
Master Niallan’s lips curved into a sinful grin. He draped my coat over his jacket on his arm. “Are you positive you don’t want Ysander or Devin to carry your bags?”
“I’m sure.” I didn’t look at them, a shiver already stealing up my spine at their ghastly forms. I lifted my bags again. “I’m ready now.”
He winked. “As long as you’re ready, your majesty.”
I cast a squint in his direction.
The Original druid’s lips twitched. “You actually look frightening when you scowl with that wolf face. Should I be frightened, your majesty?”
“Always,” I grumbled. I shuffled on my feet, weighed down by my bags. “Can we go already?”
He snickered and sauntered onto the bridge. “They really can carry your bags for you.”
“I’d rather take a header into those rocks than have them touch anything of mine.” I huffed and slid beside the “devil” as we walked over the bridge. “Why don’t you have a car waiting for us? Or a helicopter?”
“Because I like nature. It’s in my blood. Automobiles ruin the environment that we live in.”
Damndruid.
We eventually crossed over to the road.
I stumbled, and my hair—not fur—fell down around my face. We were back to normal. I pushed on, griping, “How about some servants? Can’t they take our—”
“Your majesty, give me one of those bags,” Lord Cato stated calmly. “I can carry it, no problem.”
My feet came to an abrupt halt. “Really?”
“Really.” My father set his luggage down and took one of mine from me, somehow, maneuvering it under his left arm and picking up his own luggage too. He didn’t appear hindered by it, and his smile barely showed. “Ready now, your majesty?”
I blinked. “Yes, my lord.”
I turned and hurried to catch up with Lord Belshazzar. The Overlord didn’t glance back, but his pace subtly slowed, allowing me to reach him without running. Neither of us commented on the bitty fact that our vampire senses worked again now that we were here—that I simplywantedto walk next to him, as he did me. We marched back up the same steep hill in companionable silence, while dead leaves crunched under our boots. An owl filled the air with its powerful hoot, the arresting creature hidden up in the limbs of the barren winter trees.
“Is the weather always like this?” I asked curiously.
“The nature around us continues to change with the seasons, but, yes, the temperature is constantly the same in my stronghold,” Master Niallan answered. The stars winked down on our group, lighting our trek up the hill. “The druids here prefer it this way.”
Lord Belshazzar grunted. “Finally, you speak of your people’s wishes.”
