Page 136 of Where Darkness Falls

One minute she’s colder than the Galrosan mountains, and the next she’s a ray of sunshine.

“Besides, Danté loves me,” she adds.

“You’re strong enough to mount him yourself, Rosey,” I say, crossing my arms.

Any playfulness that was there moments ago quickly fades away as her arms drop back down to her sides.

What’s wrong with you?I chastise myself.

Maeva studies me for a moment, then she lifts her chin and attempts to climb onto Danté’s back. Though her training has helped her gain muscle, her height is still an obstacle that stops her from mounting my enormous horse. Danté snorts, stomping his front hoof when she’s unsuccessful a second time.

“Virgil,” she calls sweetly. “Would you be so kind as to help me onto Danté’s back?”

Virgil swings off of his own mount. “My pleasure, Little Star,” he replies.

Apparently, that’s all the encouragement I need to move into action. Before he lays a finger on her, my traitorous hands lift her up and gently place her onto the front of the saddle. There’s a slight tick in Virgil’s jaw that’s so subtle, I would’ve missed it if I hadn’t been watching him the entire time.

“Is there a problem, High General?” he asks disdainfully.

“None at all, Fourth Commander,” I reply, swinging myself over onto Danté behind Maeva. This is the closest I’ve been to her in weeks, with the exception of helping her heal Virgil’s arm in the courtyard. The sweet scent of flowers drifts from her hair in the breeze, making me move closer to her. I wrap one of my arms around her waist, pulling her close against me… for safety purposes, of course.

Virgil’s gaze swings between us once before returning to his own steed. Laisren and Riordan mount their horses, as well. Then we set off for the drawbridge leading to the woods—where our journey will begin.

As the horses trot down the path, Maeva suddenly jumps—looking back at the palace. I turn my head, scanning the exterior until I find Domhnall and the king watching us leave on one of the balconies. Tiernan waves a gloved hand, to which Maeva waves back, her face ashen.

“Are you okay?” I whisper.

Her throat bobs as she nods, then she turns back around.

We ride in silence until we reach the outskirts of the ominous woods. The gnarled trees tower above us, their long, decaying limbs reaching toward the gray sky as if warning to stay away and not tarry longer than necessary. The mist shrouds the woods like a dark cloak, hiding the atrocities within. We hear all manners of unseen creatures screeching or howling.

As a boy, I made the trek from Zulgalros to Malvoria through these very woods with my parents. However, the woods were vibrant back then, and the creatures weren’t cursed or wicked. Since the Drakhul’s descent, I haven’t dared to enter. Many have tried over the years, but none have returned. There’s something to be said about avoiding cursed places, but what choice do we have? This is the quickest route to Zulgalros and the Abyss.

Maeva’s quivering body rattles against me as she stares at the trees. Her hands move restlessly over the saddle horn in an attempt to calm her nerves. Instinctively, I pull her closer to my chest, which causes a gasp to escape from her lips. “Is this okay?” I ask softly.

She stiffly rests her head against my torso. “Yes,” she whispers.

“Good,” I say. “I wouldn’t want Danté to get spooked and accidentally throw you off.”

Her body goes rigid as she sits forward once more. “Indeed,” she replies coldly.

However, she doesn’t push my arm away. I take that as a sign that she desires my comfort even if I’ve angered her.

Turning my head to the side, I’m met with the not-so-shocked stares of Laisren and Riordan, while Virgil grimaces like he’d very much enjoy cutting off my air supply.

“We stay close,” I say. “If anyone detects trouble, give a low whistle. We need to remain undetected, as well as keep Maeva safe. These woods are full of tomfoolery and trickery, so be watchful. Understood?”

“Yes, High General,” theysay in unison.

“Siorai, save us,” Maeva murmurs.

We nod solemnly, repeating the sentiment.

Then, one by one, we set off into the shroud of mist that coats the woodland floor—praying to the silent god that what lurks in the darkness doesn’t seek us out.

“Serve me well, my darling.”

Tiernan’s words replay in my idle mind. The shadow horses have been navigating through the stygian woods in complete silence for several hours now. This has given me ample time for my thoughts to wander, searching for answers that I know I won’t find. Yet, it’s hard not to ponder such things when I’m afraid of my own shadow—even with the Galrosan soldiers here.

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