Page 8 of Anwen of Primewood (The Eldentimber #2)

B right and early, I find Galinor in the stables readying his horse. I clear my throat, and he turns. His eyes drift over me. The expression he wore the first night I met him shadows his face.

I run my hand over the burgundy tunic and admit, “I borrowed it.” The half-gown cinches tight at my waist and flares out to my knees. Under it, I wear a tight set of trousers that fit like a second skin. “Leonora said it would be all right.”

It’s Pippa’s.

The unspoken admission hangs between us. Galinor claims he wasn’t in love with the princess, but the color drains from his face, and I can’t help but wonder.

“If it bothers you, I can change,” I say quietly, looking at the straw on the floor.

Leonora promised Pippa wouldn’t mind since she’s in Errinton now, but I didn’t think how it would bother Galinor.

He meets my eyes. “It’s fine. You look lovely. ”

I bite my lip and look away. “I want to come with you.” I nudge a piece of straw with my foot, pushing it back and forth as I wait for his answer.

The stable smells like horse, but it’s not an unpleasant odor.

Around me, the animals nicker and snort, and if I had the time, I would greet them all.

I say hello to a gray mare in the stall next to Galinor’s.

She lifts her head from her breakfast and nuzzles my hair.

I laugh and give her a pat. Finally, I look back at Galinor.

“Do you have a way to protect yourself should we run into trouble?”

“Well.” I shrug. “I’ll have you.”

Galinor smiles, leaves his horse, and comes to me. “I mean besides me.”

“I scream very loudly.” I give him a wide smile.

He chuckles and plucks a piece of hay from my hair. “You’ll listen to me if there’s trouble? You’ll do exactly as I say?”

“I won’t leave Danver, if that’s what you mean.”

He crosses his arms.

“But other than that, I will.”

“All right. It’s a bad idea, but you may come.” He raises a hand in greeting, looking over my shoulder.

“You can ride with me this time,” Irving says from behind me. He drapes his arm around my shoulders.

I glance at Galinor to see what he will say, but he’s already turned back to his horse.

“What will you do when you return to Primewood?” I ask Irving.

Riding with him isn’t as bad as I thought it would be.

“Well, since I didn’t win the tournament, Father will expect me to choose a bride.”

“That’s natural, Irving. You’re his heir.”

We’re in the woods again, but we have made better time today, and it isn’t nearly as late as it was when we were here before. We’re deep in blue bushes, and I believe we’re in an area we haven’t yet checked.

“I know that,” he says. “I do.”

“You still haven’t found her, have you?” I enjoy these rare talks with Irving, the ones where he’s serious for a change.

“Not yet.”

He sounds so dejected, I laugh. “You’ll find someone, Irving.”

Something bright, just on the edge of my vision, catches my attention, and I turn. “What was that?”

Irving looks into the still trees. “What was what?”

“Let me off.”

“Anwen—”

“Let me down,” I urge, already throwing my leg over.

Irving slows the horse, and I leap to the ground.

I wait, watching for another sign of life, but I see nothing.

I take a step into the woods and then another.

I step over branches and around bushes, going deeper into the forest. Irving rushes behind me, and I wish he’d be quiet. He’ll scare them off.

“What did you see?” Irving asks, taking my arm.

“A floating light. I think it was a fairy. ”

Irving’s fingers tighten. “A fairy…or a will-o-wisp?”

I pause mid-step and take a sharp breath. “I don’t know.”

“Irving!” Galinor calls from the horses.

I don’t see anything glowing now—no sign of fairies or their malevolent cousins. “I might have been seeing things.”

“Anwen, don’t move.” Irving’s voice is suddenly low and controlled.

I look around, my movements frantic. “What is it?”

He pulls me behind him, and we slowly back up the way we came.

“I don’t see anything,” I whisper.

A breeze rustles through the leaves in the trees, but there are no signs of any animals—not even a bird. At this hour, they should be chattering in the trees.

We keep our movements slow and steady, and thankfully, nothing appears to follow us.

“Irving,” Galinor calls again, growing impatient.

Irving nudges me. “Get back to the horses.”

Danver is at my feet, nervous. I scoop him up. Instead of going to Irving’s horse, I hold my hand out to Galinor, who is closer.

Irving continues to scan the forest, but I still don’t see anything. When he turns back, he nods to Galinor. “Let’s keep moving.”

We continue but hear nothing more. After a while, I relax.

“What happened back there?” Galinor asks.

“I thought I saw a fairy.” I twist to look at him. “Irving thought it might have been a will-o-wisp. ”

He taps my shoulder. “You ran back to me when you got spooked?”

I grin. “You’re my protection, remember?”

A smile plays at the corner of his lips. “Yes, I remember.”

“Did you see anything?”

“No.” He looks at something in front of us, and his eyes widen with recognition. “But I see something now.”

I turn back to the front. There, towering over the clearing in front of us, is the eldentimber tree.

“You found it,” I whisper.

The gold leaves shimmer in the afternoon light, and a few swirl in the breeze around us.

Something is missing.

I turn back to Galinor. “Where are the fairies? Do you need to summon them?”

His face falls, and he looks irritated with himself again. “They should be here.”

We wait in silence, watching for something. Anything.

“Hello?” I call, my frustration rising. “If you’re there…” My voice falters. “Please.”

Danver leaps to the ground to sniff around. Now that my hands are free, I lower my face into them.

Galinor’s hand settles on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Anwen.”

We don’t speak as we plod through the forest on our way back to the palace. Even the horses seem to be in no hurry to return. There’s no hope I will find the fairies now.

I will have to begin my search again. Which way will Dimitri have taken his troupe?

I turn to Galinor. “Where are the festivals—”

Something screeches behind us, and the hair stands up on the back of my neck.

“What was that?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer, but his hand moves to the hilt of his sword.

“There it is again,” I whisper.

Galinor draws the horse to a halt, and then he turns to face the trail behind us. “I’m tired of its games.”

Irving follows our lead. He pulls an arrow from his quiver and readies his bow. We wait, our eyes on the woods. Danver stills near Galinor’s horse. He looks down the trail. Then, sensing something we can’t see yet, the hair on his back stands on end.

My heart pounds in my chest, and cold sweat trickles down my shoulder blades. The wind blows through the trees, startling a bird from her perch.

Goosebumps prickle my skin as I scan the woods. From the darkness of a cluster of underbrush, green eyes stare at me.

Then they’re gone.

“I saw something,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

Galinor tenses. “Where?”

“Between the large trees. Something is watching.”

“Tell me—”

A yowl comes from behind us.

The horses spook and swivel around to face their attacker. There, in the path directly in front of us, crouches a creature I have no name for. I inhale sharply, barely able to breathe.

Glossy black fur covers a pony-sized body. His muscles ripple as he twitches forward. Huge, feathered wings lay tucked against his body, but he flips them out now, making himself larger.

He hisses, creeping forward—a cat ready to pounce.

“He’s beautiful,” I breathe.

Galinor’s arm wraps around me, his muscles like bands of steel. “Don’t move.”

I call to the creature, mimicking a stable cat, and then I click my tongue.

“What’s wrong with you?” Galinor demands.

The feline’s ears twitch.

“Pretty kitty,” I coo, and then I click again.

The feline sits back on his haunches, confused. He tilts his head one way and then the next.

Irving sits frozen on his horse next to us. Through clenched teeth, he hisses at Galinor, “What is she doing?”

I inhale, elated at our progress. “You’re a pretty kitty, aren’t you?” I say, and then I turn my head just slightly to speak to Galinor. “Let me down.”

“Not likely,” he says in my ear.

I laugh and continue to call and click and mew. The feline stands, saunters to the nearest tree, and then rubs his side against it. He turns around, sits down, and then he meows back.

The horse is restless under me, shifting back and forth. I struggle away from Galinor, who seems to be too shocked to hold me back. I move slowly, holding my hand out.

The cat calls again, stands, and rubs against the tree. He repeats this action several times as I move closer. Finally, my fingertips touch his fur.

“Oh,” I say at the pleasure of it.

The cat turns his giant head and nudges me in the chest, running his ears along my arm. He promptly bursts out in loud, contented purrs and falls on the ground next to me, where he rubs his body against the grass under him.

I continue to pet him, running my hand down his glossy body in long, slow strokes. I look back at the men. “I think he’s friendly.”

They stare at me, dumbfounded.

“It’s still following us,” Galinor says, his voice tight.

I turn back and look over his shoulder. The cat, which Galinor has informed me is a blood-thirsty, night-dwelling glasseln, is indeed still there. He meows at me and flicks his tail as he pads along behind us.

“Hello, kitty,” I call back, and then I turn to Galinor. “Yes,” I say. “He is.”

“Can’t you make it go away?”

I meet Galinor’s eyes. “I can’t think of how.”

“Perhaps you should stop talking to it?”

I laugh at the idea and Galinor groans. Danver quivers in my arms. He’s not excited about the new addition to our party .

“It can’t follow us much farther. If the guards see it near the palace, they will kill it.”

“Why?” I demand. “He’s not causing any trouble.”

Galinor growls at me, irritated. “It’s a monster.”