“Halt,” the slightly older one says, jumping in front of me and making my Hazel flinch.
I feel anger rising within me. “No.”
I trot on. The younger snaps at my heels.
“I am warning you. If you want your blood spilt, you’ll continue. If you want to be able to eat solid food, then you’ll go and tell Reavely I’m here.”
“Stupid Brag,” the younger snarls. “You’re just a trickster. We will not be bothering the king with your demands.”
“Oh dear.” I come to a halt. “If you will forgive me, my sweet mate.” I turn to Hazel. “I need to teach these young pups a thing or two about monsters.”
I strike out with my rear left hoof and send the first wolf spiralling through the air until he lands with a soggy plop in the river. He howls as he is taken downstream by the current. The second comes in to bite me, but I lift my hoof and put it down on his head.
“Don’t hurt him!” Hazel leans over my side to gaze at the Barghest.
“I will not. He merely needs to learn who to attack and who to respect.” I bend to look at the pup. “Do you know who to respect?”
“Yes, Brag. You,” he says, his voice muffled.
“I’m going to release you. Go and tell Reavely that Warden is here to see him, and don’t get distracted on the way,” I say, pushing down a little harder, but not enough so Hazel might see.
“Yes,” he responds.
“Yes, Warden,” I suggest.
“Yes, Warden,” he repeats.
I lift my hoof and he scampers away.
“Barghests.” I shake my head. “I preferred it when they were ghosts.”
HAZEL
Ghosts? Is that why I remember this castle on a hill? We get closer and my confusion deepens. I don’t think I’ve been here, but I can’t shake the feeling I have. Like I’m seeing a dreamscape made real. As we wind our way up the steep path to the imposing gatehouse, we are surrounded by howls. Warden tuts under his breath.
“Barghests love a bit of drama,” he grumbles.
The gate is already open by the time we reach it and make our way into the main courtyard. The place is filled with life, men and women stoking braziers, making weapons, shifting animal fodder, spinning wool.
Warden reaches the stone steps which lead up to the vast Keep, and he swirls himself into his human form, catching me, as always, in his arms.
“That was easy,” I say. I’m not sure if those in the courtyard have even looked up at our passage through their domain.
“This won’t be,” Warden murmurs.
“The Brag.” A strong female voice has my head spinning.
A tall, statuesque woman stands at the top of the steps. She wears a long dress in a deep moss-green with gold edging. Herlips are drawn back to reveal fangs and her tawny hair tumbles down her back in a plait shot through with gold thread.
“Princess Ellie,” Warden says, making his way up the steps and not putting me down. “Is he in?”
“What is this?” the woman asks. “You did not need to bring Reavely a gift.” She narrows her eyes and inspects me. “He has a female.”
“I am not a gift!” I exclaim.
“Queen Wynter is a human like this one,” the princess says. “Which is why Reavely won’t want another.”
“Barghests sometimes take more than one mate,” Warden says to me. “Although it’s usually the female’s prerogative, isn’t it, Princess?”
