“Although,” Linton says, “I did come to find her sister, which is what she wants.”
“The Thegn has her.”
“Then I suppose I should go with you to the Thegn,” Linton says with a sigh as he inspects his claws. “Do I get to ride you?”
“If you attempt to get on me in any way, I will ensure you end up beneath my hooves before you can draw another breath. Is that clear?”
I fix the creature with a stare which could double as a weapon. Linton is unperturbed. Not surprising, I lost count ofhow often we used to have to threaten him with physical violence in the Night Lands. It never worked.
“Fine,” he responds in a way which I know means he’s still thinking about doing the thing I threatened him not to do. “Where are we going? Where is the Thegn?”
He looks around us at the open pasture and the clear stream running through it. Smooth hills rise on one side, climbing towards the sky.
I’m already growling under my breath. “I don’t know.”
“Then where are you going?”
“I don’t know that either. To kill something, I expect.”
Linton grins. He senses my chaos.
“Good. Killing things is good.” His antennae swing left and right. “But the best place to find a Thegn is at a fortress. They like fortresses.”
“This is the Yeavering, Linton,” I grumble. “There are more castles, keeps, and fortresses than either of us can count.”
“You can scent her then?” he suggests.
“I can’t scent her. I wish I could,” I rasp. “I need a scry stone.”
The moment I say the words, I feel the familiar shiver down my spine. It turns me in the opposite direction to the one I’m facing. My hooves lift almost unbidden. I have to let it take me, not resist, even if the entire of me wants to.
This small piece of magic will bring me to my Hazel. A piece of magic I’ve never liked, but today it serves a purpose.
“Fyr-bæth - Here-Wulf - Wuldres Thegn - Gast-Bona - Sund-Hengest,”Linton intones behind me.
“There is no need to invokeisten-scur,” I snarl. “I am all the Yeavering needs. There will be no more war.”
Linton shakes himself violently.
“What?” he says, the colour coming back into his eyes.
He did not know what he was saying. The Yeavering is, yet again, playing me, like it always has.
“It doesn’t matter.” I clap my hand on Linton’s shoulder and a cloud of his shed rises up to me. Something I’m sure he’s done on purpose. “I have located a scry stone through the ley lines. Let’s go see where this Thegn has taken my mate. And where he will meet his maker.”
“Mate?” Linton’s antennae prick up. “This human is your mate?”
“Hazel is my everything.” I move away from the annoying Bluecap, the tingle over my skin drawing me onwards to the stone which should be able to give me a clue to where the Thegn has taken my lady. “She is the wind under my hooves, the sun on my hide, the brightness of my dawn.”
“I didn’t think Brags could mate,” Linton says, following me. “You’re all…hooves.”
“And you’re a Bluecap, but apparently you can mate.”
“I can. It’s very good.” Linton chuckles. “I get to put my spicket…”
“Enough,” I roar, trotting further away from Linton.
Of all the creatures, in all the Yeavering…I have to end up with Linton.
