This close, I can see silvery flecks in the stone, shimmering from the remnants of sunlight. I imagine Analla being in complete awe of this place. She loves castles and has always dreamed of stepping inside one. One of her lifelong dreams is to attend a ball and dance the night away in a beautiful silk gown.
The thought of her causes a bittersweet feeling to stir in my gut. I smile at the idea of her in a gown, yet my heart aches when I think of her never being able to live out that dream if I fail.
I shove my emotions aside as we approach a set of colossal wooden doors. More beastials patrol here, well suited, heavily armed, and not looking nearly as silly as the set at the front gates.
“All of you wait here.” Rynthea drops her rucksack on the ground close to my feet. She gently places her scythesword down, too, then marches toward the guards. They stiffen when they notice her coming and tighten their grips around the handles of their spears.
Well, all but one—a female white tiger beastial whose silvery eyes lock on Rynthea as she saunters forward. Two beautiful ears spring from her head, and her fur and hair are an even mixture of white with black stripes. That same hair on her head is braided neatly and laid over her shoulder.
Her deep-purple military uniform is capped with gold at the shoulders and decorated with medals. She carries a sheathed sword at her waist with a gleaming gold hilt. Her boots make deliberate thuds as she marches across the walkway until she’s face-to-face with Rynthea.
They stare at each other for a while, eyes narrowed, heads tilting as they size each other up. Then a sharp-toothed grin spreads across the tiger’s face as she throws her hands in the air.
“Rynthea Kamtaur! It’s been far too long! I didn’t think I’d ever see you again!”
Rynthea smiles back, seeming relieved. “How are you, Sheera?”
“I’m well. I would hug you, but you smellawfuland look like you’ve been dragged through the Shadow Realm.” She looks at Rynthea from head to toe. “What happened to you?”
“We were attacked by a swamp monster, and before you ask”—Rynthea throws up a hand just as Sheera is about to interrupt—“yes, I’m serious. We walked through Delchester to get here.”
“Why on Thelanor would you do that?” Sheera asks with utter disbelief.
“Quickest route. We don’t have a lot of time to spare.”
“I see.” Sheera peeks over Rynthea’s shoulder at me, then Algar, but focuses the most on Thane. He hasn’t put his mask on since the swamp (probably because of the smell), but his swords are still strapped to his back and his buffers and dagger-lined vest are a clear indicator that he’s the fighting type. He looks like a walking weapon. “Surely you wouldn’t have traveled through Delchester unless it was urgent. Why are you here?” She places her attention on Rynthea again. “Is Torjack okay?”
“Yes, Torjack is fine. I’m just hoping to have a quick word with King Draedor.”
At that, Sheera stiffens, her smile lost. “The king is preparing for the fete. He has requested that he not be disturbed unless the matter is urgent.”
“I wouldn’t be asking if it weren’t important, Sheera.”
The tiger shifts on her feet, studying Rynthea for several seconds. She sighs, shoulders softening. “Who are the travelers with you?”
Rynthea gestures to us. “They seek his help and insight, too.”
Sheera’s brows knit together. “Rynthea, you know that I always want to help you, but the king does not care for strangers. Especially not tonight.”
“Not even if these strangers require his help about a journey to the Temple of Elphar?”
“Elphar?”Sheera’s striking eyes expand. “Did that swamp monster eat your brain?”
“King Draedor is the only person I know who has survived The Shallows,” Rynthea goes on.
“Yes,barely!”
“Hestillsurvived, and that’s what matters.”
Sheera steps back. “It isn’t wise to pester the king with those troubling memories.”
“Just tell him I’m here.Please, Sheera?” Rynthea pleads. “He’ll make time. Plus, he owes me.”
Sheera lifts her chin. “Owes youfor what?”
Rynthea crosses her arms with a smirk. “Ask him and find out.”
Okay…now I know she can’t be bluffing.
