Page 42 of The Beauty and the Griffin

“Nobody asked me to keep watch,” I observed.

“—we might as well start walking again.”

With minimal discussion, I shifted the swaddled silver egg into her sling, giving his shell another caress when the girl wasn’t watching, and we set off into the darkness. Winifred imitated my way of choosing a path, using her egg’s brightness as our guide.

I couldn’t really blame her for being angry—I’d broken almost every rule she’d laid out. She held no authority over me, but we might both pay a terrible price for my impulsive choices, which wasn’t fair to her. I really should repress the snark and behave like the adult in the room . . . cave . . . whatever.

I cradled my egg while we walked. Was she asleep? When I sneaked one hand beneath her wrappings, the glow instantly brightened, and her purring resumed.

“You’re touching it again. I hear the noise,” Win said, her voice like lead.

“We can’t possibly die more gruesomely than you’ve already predicted,” I pointed out. “And light is useful in a cave.”

She growled something unintelligible.

I deservedsomesnark. She’d interrupted my first kiss.

I couldn’t help wondering what had happened on Niel’s end when Win woke me up. Did I fade away or vanish suddenly? What would he do? He’d said he’d find a way to be with me . . .

Falling in love with a dream sounded crazy, or at best foolish. Yet he’d felt so . . .real.

We walked with only our footsteps and the music of running or dripping water to interrupt the deep silence. The tunnel was all uphill now. I couldn’t begin to guess which direction we traveled, but Win seemed confident. Was her egg brighter than before?

The breathless wonder of my dream gradually faded into sadness. No actual human could possibly compete with a romantic dream. And if Niel ever had been a real person, he’d be dead of old age. Even if he’d somehow managed to extend his life, he would be ancient.

Sudden curiosity gripped me. If I were to research Siegfried III, King of Adelboden, what might I learn?

Winifred and I started taking shorter but more frequent breaks. I felt a growing sense of urgency. I suspect she did too, though she tried to hide it. We nibbled trail mix and protein bars along the way; I mostly ate to calm my nerves . . . with no success whatsoever. Once, when Winifred made a sharp turn, I glimpsed her hand tucked inside her sling. No wonder the egg’s silvery glow was so bright. A wry smile curled my lips.

Walking in darkness allowed my random thoughts far too much leeway. The Gamekeeper knew about my childhood visit to Othniel’s garden, but what would he think of my romantic interlude with the adult king? My face scrunched. I couldn’t imagine telling him about it. Not after he’d proposed marriage. My impressions of his form were hazy. But when I was with him, I felt understood and loved . . . and he never seemed to mind when I talked about myself.

Now that I thought about it, I did too much of that: talking about myself. When had I ever asked about his past or his feelings? Had he tried to talk about himself? If he ever did, I hadn’t listened well enough to remember. A blend of longing and guilt washed through me. If . . .Whenhe came back, I needed to do more listening and less blathering about my insecurities and frustrations.

I couldn’t imagine talking to a man the one-sided way I’d talked at the Gamekeeper. I couldn’t imagine any mantoleratingsuch self-absorbed blather. If I ever got the chance, I would listen for a change. He was my best friend ever.

I knew he was real—I wasn’t the only person at Faraway Castle who talked with him. But Niel? Men as perfect as Niel don’t exist. Apparently, I was the type of girl who had to dream up her ideal man. For that matter, the woman I’d been in my dream wasn’t real either. I could never be that self-confident and flirtatious.

If I didn’t stop moping, I would soon be sobbing as I walked.Not that it mattered. Win seemed lost in her own thoughts.

Until she stopped short, and I almost crashed into her.

Light from our two eggs revealed the rough tunnel walls ending at a large wooden door.

“Looks like we made it,” I observed.

“The door might be enspelled.” Win’s voice trembled. “There’s no latch.”

I sensed powerful magic emanating from the door, but it didn’t threaten us. It merely . . . waited. Which left everything to the imagination. Which was freaky.

I squared my aching shoulders. “I’m willing to risk it if you are.”

She shrugged. “Either we stand around here in the dark or we enter the Forbidden Palace. Thanks to you, either way, we’ll face the Beast.”

“My egg doesn’t seem worried.” Mustering my waning courage, I stepped past her, released a deep breath, then laid my hand on the door.

It creaked open. Light that seemed blinding after so many hours of near darkness made us both cringe. Win ducked behind me, gripping my arm with both hands.

When nothing else happened, we simultaneously heaved sighs of relief. “Well, go on,” Win ordered with an edge of impatience.

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