I moved. Marshen had no choice but to follow. We were forced to walk for long minutes, hours perhaps.
It was silent, other than the crunching terrain beneath us and the nocturnal birds hidden somewhere in the trees that surrounded us. I wished one of them were Eldric, coming to our rescue.
“Should we wake her tonight?” I overheard Tall One ask.
Wake who, exactly?
“We can keep them in the pit until tomorrow,” Arrow replied.
The pit?What in the names of the gods is to happen to us?
“No, we’ll wake her,” Big One asserted. “Especially because ofhistype.”
“Head forward!” Arrow bellowed the second I tried to glance at Marshen over my shoulder.
It was already exhausting, walking towards the unknown tied to another person, but the elevated terrain along a narrow valley made it even harder. We finally reached the peak. It overlooked an open spread of grass.
“Move.”
I could make out the shadows of small wooden huts built all over the rolling stretch. The lack of burning candles told me the people who resided there were sleeping.
As soon as I got the urge to shout for help, Arrow warned, “A sound comes out of your mouth and I swear I’ll let go of the arrow.” It angered me, the way he threatened me using my favourite weapon.
We were dragged around what looked like a small village, a settlement, which I imagined would look beautiful in the morning. The landscape was hilly, and the homes were all scattered around at different heights.
One of the buildings stood out, a two-storey cottage. Flowers—what colour they were I couldn’t tell at night—adorned its front, and plenty of trees surrounded its wooden fenced perimeter. We moved towards it.
The Strongmen led us into a small entryway, and we were ordered to stand with our backs against the wall.
“Go wake her,” Big One ordered to Young One.
“Me?”
“Yes, you. Go.”
Then I heard a woman’s voice. “Aegir? My dear, is that you?”
CHAPTER 61
Just from her tone of voice, I could tell that she was old and frail.
“You came back to visit so soon?”
The woman staggered out of the room, tying the strings of her green robe around her slender waist. Young One was in tow, cane in hand, yet the woman kept her stare pinned on mine as she limped my way.
Her wrinkles were carved deep into her furrowed brow, visible on that milk-white skin of hers. Her long hair was just as pale. I imagined it being like that even when she was young. Then I noticed a pointed ear peeking out of it.
“My god, girl, don’t you have a scent of your own?” I noticed her eyes reflected bright blue when she moved closer. “Untie her. Now!” she demanded.
That’s when I realised that this old lady was not frail at all.
“Untie them,” she repeated, even though the Strongmen were already on it.
Then she made the four of them apologise to us as if they were not Strongmen from Myrkvein, but three-year-olds who had just disappointed their teacher. Apparently, they thought we were the bobcats that had been eating their chickens and rabbits. It was the bobcat’s trap that we fell into, or rather were lifted onto. Then they figured we were bandits. Still, it wasn’t necessary to treat us the way they did, but I said nothing. I couldn’t risk getting us back on their bad side.
“My dear girl, will you tell me your name?” she asked as she poured us a hot cup of the most delicious tea. She said it was blueberry-infused.
“I’m Delia. Cordelia Wildheart, and this is—”
