Mountains?”
“Yes,” Horatio said, wondering to himself what other mountains were worth talking about. “But she’s in excellent hands, I can promise you that. The redheaded fellow is a sure shot, and the young woman can wield a blade better than a warlord. Between the two of them, I don’t think there’ll be — Countess? Are you feeling all right?”
D’Mere’s face was suddenly the color of new-fallen snow. She gripped her middle and took an involuntary step backwards. “Yes, I’m fine,” she said after a moment, though her eyes seemed distant. “I suppose I’m just a little sore from traveling. The boy had red hair, you say? And what about the girl — what did she look like?”
Horatio sputtered a bit as he tried to find the words to describe her. “Ah, well, she wasn’t really like anyone I’ve ever seen, Countess. She had dark hair, green eyes — and the men spent more time staring at her than they did actually working.” When the color left her face completely, Horatio’s worry gave him the courage to speak. “What is it, My Countess? What’s gone wrong?”
But D’Mere didn’t reply. She turned and swept out of the room, the forest girl following close behind her.
Horatio listened to her footsteps as they went down the hall. The moment he heard the front door close, he stumbled over to the desk and collapsed in the chair, gripping his chest. It would be several long moments before his breathing steadied, and several moments more before the sick feeling in his gut stopped the bile from climbing up his throat.
But it would be many months before he found peace again. He didn’t know what that look on the Countess’s face had meant, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d somehow put Aerilyn in danger.
It would haunt him day and night.
*******
The carriage rolled for three miles down the road before D’Mere found her voice. “It’s her,” she said, more to herself than anybody. “Aerilyn travels with the Dragongirl.” The carriage bounced beneath her, jolting the end of her sentence.
“What does this mean, My Countess?”
Of course, Elena had heard her. She’d sat so quietly for miles that D’Mere had actually forgotten she was there. But when she looked up, she saw that the forest girl watched her calmly. The movement of the carriage didn’t seem to bother her — she sat as neatly under the motion as she might’ve sat at a dining room table.
“It means we have to move quickly,” D’Mere said. She mulled the problem over, watching as the trees whipped by her window. “I wish Reginald would answer my letter. I can’t imagine what that fool has gotten himself into.”
“I could find out, Countess.”
“You might have to,” D’Mere admitted. “But there’s a task I need you to do first. The cook was reading something when we came in —”
“The letters were from Miss Aerilyn, Countess. I saw her name written on the envelope,” Elena supplied.
“Good, I hoped they might be. I need you to retrieve them,” D’Mere leaned forward, “tonight.”
“Yes, Countess,” Elena said, as if it was no more difficult a chore than running down to market. And perhaps for her, it wasn’t.
Elena wore her pretty face like a mask, to hide the predator behind it. D’Mere watched as she stood and unbuttoned her skirt from her tunic, thinking how appropriate it was for a dress to be a cover for what lay beneath: boots, black leggings, and the two slender, deadly-looking knives strapped to the bands on her thighs.
Elena opened the carriage door and leaned out. D’Mere grabbed her before she could leap. “Return to the castle as quickly as possible. Time is not our ally.”
Elena nodded. Then she sprang from the carriage like a cat out of a box, rolling gracefully, catching herself on her feet.
When D’Mere turned to watch her, she’d already vanished.
Chapter 2
The Endless Plains
Sweet mercy, it was hot — so horribly,
“Yes,” Horatio said, wondering to himself what other mountains were worth talking about. “But she’s in excellent hands, I can promise you that. The redheaded fellow is a sure shot, and the young woman can wield a blade better than a warlord. Between the two of them, I don’t think there’ll be — Countess? Are you feeling all right?”
D’Mere’s face was suddenly the color of new-fallen snow. She gripped her middle and took an involuntary step backwards. “Yes, I’m fine,” she said after a moment, though her eyes seemed distant. “I suppose I’m just a little sore from traveling. The boy had red hair, you say? And what about the girl — what did she look like?”
Horatio sputtered a bit as he tried to find the words to describe her. “Ah, well, she wasn’t really like anyone I’ve ever seen, Countess. She had dark hair, green eyes — and the men spent more time staring at her than they did actually working.” When the color left her face completely, Horatio’s worry gave him the courage to speak. “What is it, My Countess? What’s gone wrong?”
But D’Mere didn’t reply. She turned and swept out of the room, the forest girl following close behind her.
Horatio listened to her footsteps as they went down the hall. The moment he heard the front door close, he stumbled over to the desk and collapsed in the chair, gripping his chest. It would be several long moments before his breathing steadied, and several moments more before the sick feeling in his gut stopped the bile from climbing up his throat.
But it would be many months before he found peace again. He didn’t know what that look on the Countess’s face had meant, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d somehow put Aerilyn in danger.
It would haunt him day and night.
*******
The carriage rolled for three miles down the road before D’Mere found her voice. “It’s her,” she said, more to herself than anybody. “Aerilyn travels with the Dragongirl.” The carriage bounced beneath her, jolting the end of her sentence.
“What does this mean, My Countess?”
Of course, Elena had heard her. She’d sat so quietly for miles that D’Mere had actually forgotten she was there. But when she looked up, she saw that the forest girl watched her calmly. The movement of the carriage didn’t seem to bother her — she sat as neatly under the motion as she might’ve sat at a dining room table.
“It means we have to move quickly,” D’Mere said. She mulled the problem over, watching as the trees whipped by her window. “I wish Reginald would answer my letter. I can’t imagine what that fool has gotten himself into.”
“I could find out, Countess.”
“You might have to,” D’Mere admitted. “But there’s a task I need you to do first. The cook was reading something when we came in —”
“The letters were from Miss Aerilyn, Countess. I saw her name written on the envelope,” Elena supplied.
“Good, I hoped they might be. I need you to retrieve them,” D’Mere leaned forward, “tonight.”
“Yes, Countess,” Elena said, as if it was no more difficult a chore than running down to market. And perhaps for her, it wasn’t.
Elena wore her pretty face like a mask, to hide the predator behind it. D’Mere watched as she stood and unbuttoned her skirt from her tunic, thinking how appropriate it was for a dress to be a cover for what lay beneath: boots, black leggings, and the two slender, deadly-looking knives strapped to the bands on her thighs.
Elena opened the carriage door and leaned out. D’Mere grabbed her before she could leap. “Return to the castle as quickly as possible. Time is not our ally.”
Elena nodded. Then she sprang from the carriage like a cat out of a box, rolling gracefully, catching herself on her feet.
When D’Mere turned to watch her, she’d already vanished.
Chapter 2
The Endless Plains
Sweet mercy, it was hot — so horribly,
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