The feeling of control slipped through her fingers. The only sound she could hear was the pounding of her blood in her ears.
She hated them. She hated their insecurities and cruelty. She wanted to fly from the horse and run back to the village, screaming the songs she had heard the Quotidian sing. Shriek at them until they felt the pain they had inflicted upon her. If she had her voice, nothing could have stopped her. She hated them all.
Erich repositioned the arm he held around her stomach.
The movement brought her attention back to the moment.
His grip was firm and gentle. His head hovered over hers as he leaned forward, cradling her with his body as well as he could.
She placed her arm over his, grasping his wrist for stability.
Maybe she did not hate all of them.
She was thankful for the Quotidian prince, keeping her steady on this horse while they rode away from the most terrifying situation she had ever experienced. She didn’t necessarily feel positively toward him, but his thoughtful actions consistently defied his callous words.
He annoyed her, but he never made her feel the way those men and women in the tavern had. He never made her feel unsafe.
The stress of the last weeks came crashing down on her all at once. Safe. She wanted to be safe. She wanted to run off into the night and disappear.
Tears formed in her eyes and she was too tired to blink them away.
She awoke the next morning, wrapped tightly in her blanket. Her arms were free, and Erich was still sleeping, wrapped in a blanket of his own a short distance away.
If he’d had another nightmare, he hadn’t woken her.
She had no memory of getting off his horse the previous night, but it felt like they had ridden in the darkness for hours.
The trees around her had changed. They were taller, darker. The ground was rockier, covered with various colors of moss rather than grass. They must have gotten far closer to the mountains, though she couldn’t see them through the trees.
There was no sign of a fire. Erich must have been just as exhausted.
Aizel sat up, hugging the blanket around her. The small motion jarred her ankle. She wouldn’t be walking today. Her throat felt tight, as though it was still clinging to the painful words of her unsung song.
Looking at her immediate surroundings, she grabbed at the fallen sticks and leaves to at least start a pile of kindling for a morning fire.
As she disturbed the ground cover, something sparkled beneath it. She pushed away the dirt. The rocks underneath the plants sparkled like gemstones.
The rock was as dark as coal, but its rough edges were formed by countless facets. When she moved her head, they reflected back at her in brilliant purples, blues, and pinks, and even the occasional ruby red.
She pulled the nearest piece she could find from the ground and gently wiped the dirt away from it, watching the beautiful colors dance across it.
The rock reminded her of something she would have seen on the bottom of the ocean. It was beautiful.
“Carborundum.” Erich’s voice startled her.
Confused, she looked up at him.
“I see you’ve found some carborundum,” he clarified, pointing to the rock in her hand.
“Carborundum,” she formed the strange word with her lips. If it was just a rock, such a clunky name would have been perfect. But the colorful reflections gave it an ethereal quality that “carborundum” just didn’t capture. She would come up with a better name later.
She dropped the rock into her bag, adding it to her collection.
Erich was sitting up, wrapped in his blanket. “I would love to suggest we remain here for the day and just rest. I think we both could use it.”
Aizel tilted her head. That sounded wonderful, but she wasn’t sure she could fully relax until they were a little further away from that village.
“But it might be smarter to put a little more distance between ourselves and... last night.” Erich faltered over the last words, watching her closely.
