67
Rosalina
Windtearsatthestrands of my hair as Amalthea streaks across the fields outside of Coppershire. Hands shaking on the reins, I gulp down a breath, feeling the power of my mount beneath me. I’ve never taken a horse beyond a cantor before, but now I urge my steed forward, barely holding on.
I need to find him.
Normally, mornings in the Autumn Realm are filled with cool sunshine, painting the hills in orange and red. But dark clouds cover the sky, and a crack sounds in the distance.
After I changed into proper travel gear and quickly packed a bag of clothes for Farron, Dominic and Billagin snuck me and my horse out of Coppershire. They’ve returned to join my father in the remains of the burned library. Maybe, just maybe, they can find something amidst the wreckage.
Where is he?Farron’s wolf had torn off through the city and up the hills, but dawn has long spread over the Autumn Realm. I can only imagine him, naked and afraid, huddled into himself.
It doesn’t matter. It’s like I can feel it in my chest: the grief, the terror, the sadness. He’s alone out here, and I won’t stop until he’s in my arms.
A trail of burned grass leading up a hill alerts me that I’m on the right track, but it’s deeper than that. An invisible tether pulls me forward.This way, this way, this way,the wind seems to whisper, tugging at my braid.This way, this way, this way,the rhythm of my horse’s hooves says.This way, this way, this way,rings in every beat of my heart.
We crest the top of a hill when I see the ruined Shrine of Nymphia, the forest, and the graves of the fallen soldiers among the chrysanthemums. I pull to a stop. We were here two months ago when we first learned of the winter wraiths. My horse paces anxiously. A dark shadow creeps over my heart, weaving around that unseen string. Now, I can’t hear the heartsong guiding me forward. Now, the world seems to scream at me to stay away.
The clouds crack open, and rain trembles to the earth.
I blink the water out of my eyes, staring deep into the ruins. “Come on,” I urge Amalthea. “This way.”
But my mount will have none of it. She whinnies frantically and shuffles on the spot.
“Come on. To the ruins,” I say with more command this time, giving the reins a snap for good measure. My horse responds with a desperate bray.
“Fine then.” I slip off, pulling my pack with me. Somehow, I know I’ve found what I’m looking for.
As soon as I’m on the ground, Amalthea turns and sprints away from the ruins.
I shiver in the growing downpour. With only the wild realmlands surrounding me, I am truly alone.
Taking careful steps, I make my way over to Nymphia’s ancient shrine. A putrid smell wafts through the air, the stench of decay and molding earth. I gag and cover my mouth. It’s like I cantasteit, an acrid metallic tang of blood and rot that clings to my tongue.What is that?
I step into the ruins, my travel boots sinking into the layer of water pooling on the stony ground. “Farron?” I whisper, but my voice has no power.
Then I hear it: deep, guttural breathing like the bellows of a roaring fire. My heart hammers against my ribs, and my mouth has gone dry. I tuck my body tight to a pillar and peek around.
And there he is. The beast of Autumn.
Farron.
My hands lurch to my lips to cover my scream. Because despite it being day, the fae man is nowhere in sight. There’s not even the usual brown wolf I’ve become accustomed to.
There is only a monster.
This wolf is a repulsive behemoth of death and decay. Matted fur the color of rusted iron bristles with each ragged breath. Rotten chunks of apple and pear tangle in its coat, their sickly scent mixing with the other stenches. Cobwebs stretch across the mass of his body, and I swear I see the skitter of bugs around his ears. Patches of molding leaves create a hideous tapestry over its face.
I swallow down vomit, my fingers gripping tightly into the stone so I don’t fall apart. Where is he? Where is Farron?
Maybe the grief was too much. Maybe it was his own self-loathing. Or maybe his rose has finally given up. But this monster is not my Farron.
I need to get out of here before it sees me. My calf throbs from a long-healed wound. I saw what it did to Dayton, and there is no one here to save me if the beast sets its sights on me. Slowly, I creep away from the pillar.
I’m nearly out of the ruins when something blue flashes in my peripheral. That invisible tether snaps taut in my chest, and I turn one last time to stare at the beast.
It’s staring back at me.
