“Hmph.” The door slams, rattling the frame.
“I don’t think she likes me very much,” I say, trying to make light of the situation. Somehow, I need to convince him to feel comfortable enough around me to let down his guard, so I can sneak away unnoticed. Preferably tonight.
I don’t much like the idea of making camp with a stranger who’s either a murderer or a spy.
Or both.
“She doesn’t much like me, either. Tried to turn me away this time. Luckily, she’s easy enough to convince with an extra piece of gold.” He cracks the first grin I’ve seen from him.
It unsteadies me, like the ground beneath my feet has tilted an inch.
I force my gaze forward, though I can still see the hint of his smile in the corner of my vision.
I clear my throat. “This time? How many times have you stayed here?”
His smile falters. “A few too many. It’s the only option in this part of the world. I’ve camped out in the hills a time or two. Won’t be making that mistake again.”
A shiver runs through me.
“Care to elaborate?”
His footsteps slow as we reach the door. “The souls of the dead haunt these hills at night. You don’t want to hear their voices.”
My pulse quickens. “I thought that was nothing more than an old folk tale.”
“Trust me. It’s not.” He pushes the door open and waves me through it. I shudder, pushing aside his words, and drift into the crisp morning air laced with petrichor and smoke.
The stableboy waits outside, like he already knew we were coming. Both our horses are saddled and bridled, their coats brushed smooth. The stranger hands the boy a gold coin and swings onto his horse. I follow, and he sets off on the road leading north of the Twin Talons Inn, the cool morning mist fogging the air around us.
Hours blur by. The horses slow as they climb the steep hill, the rocks beneath their hooves sliding with each step. The wind tugs my hair and bites at my cheeks, carrying the scent of salt from the distant sea. By the time we reach the next ridge, the sun has already slid halfway across the sky, burning the mist away.
The cry of seagulls pierces the quiet. It’s been the only sound, other than the crunch of hooves on rocks, for miles.
I steal a glance at stranger. His fingers grip the reins, and his eyes are narrowed on the path ahead, like he suspects the long grass might be hiding some unseen danger.
“You really are worried about rebels, aren’t you?” I ask.
“There’s something wrong up ahead,” he murmurs.
I frown, scanning the road, but see nothing but seagulls circling a lone tree bent sideways from decades spent battling the wind. The road snakes toward the white-capped waves that melt into the horizon. We’re only a few hours, if that, from the border between our kingdom and the exile’s coastal cliffs. Those lands may hide untold dangers, but here, all is calm, quiet...safe.
I nudge my horse sideways, angling to face him. “I see nothing.”
“The seagulls.” His voice is low, like he’s worried the wind might carry his words across the hills. “There’s well over a dozen, and they don’t circle like that unless they’ve found something to eat.”
My stomach dips. He’s right. Even in the city, seagulls only descend when they’ve spotted food. But what prey could lie out here, at the edge of nowhere? A rabbit, maybe…
The horse shifts beneath me, like she can sense my unease. I hold tighter to the reins and nudge her forward. Whatever the seagulls have found stands between me and my mission. Likely, it’s a just carcass…but my pulse hammers out a warning.
“Slow down.” The stranger urges his horse alongside mine, his hand outstretched as if to hold me back. Then he edges ahead, placing his horse between me and whatever waits beyond.
I frown at him. The message is clear. He expects me to follow his lead. Irritation slices through my chest, as cutting as the wind whipping toward us. I don’t like it. I don’t even want him here. But stars save me, I have no choice.
“You know, I’m not a hopeless damsel in distress.”
The words tumble out before I can stop them. Instantly, I want to take them back. He’s not Taliesin Wynn, or a rebel, but he’s clearly some other enemy of the Order. It’s in my best interest for him to underestimate me.
His pale blue eyes sharpen on my face. “Oh, that I can tell, Swynwraig. But we don’t know what awaits us. Orwho. We should leave our horses here, so they don’t hear us coming.”
