Page 58 of Mountain of Mirrors and Starlight
Aislinn followed her gaze, and found herself inclined to agree. A speckled spray of stars shone against a swirling sky of black, blue, purple and pink. She had no memory for constellations or reading the stars, but what did that matter? Each diamond glittered regardless of its name.
She wished Caer was awake. She hardly knew why, only somehow his presence would add to this, like the honey between layers of pastry.
“Don’t wake him,” Fort said, snapping Aislinn from her thoughts.
“I wasn’t going to—how did youknow?”
Fort smiled. “Your gaze dropped towards him. I’m not a fool. But best let the boy sleep. I don’t think he often rests well.”
Aislinn’s gaze drifted fully to his sleeping form, his face turned away from her, his slumbering form still. “How do you know?” she asked. “About the nightmares? You all seem to sleep so soundly—”
Fort shrugged. “After what he’s been through, how could it be otherwise?”
Aislinn nodded. “Were you having a nightmare, too? Is that why you’re awake?”
“I was dreaming of Avalinth,” she said, “but it was covered by a cloud. And then I dreamed of sleep itself. A strange dream to wake from. I rather liked it.”
“Do you need company?”
She shook her head. “Sleep, young highness. I think you will need it.”
Thunk.Thud.Rumble.
Aislinn jerked out of sleep, awaiting the inevitable clash of thunder.
It didn’t come. Only the slow, hissing snarl of the wargis.
“What’s happening?” Beau murmured beside her, voice thick with sleep. “Is it going to rain?”
Aislinn glanced at the clouds, but there wasn’t a whisper of grey among them. This wasn’t nature.
Several of the wargis shot to their feet. Two barked. Fangs snapped.
Aislinn grabbed her sword.
Caer was up already, reaching for his own. He kicked his bedroll into the bushes. Beau stumbled to his feet, shaking the others. “Wake up!” he hissed. “Come on!”
Caer let out an ear-piercing whistle. A few of them mumbled.
The rumbling got closer.
“Come on!” Aislinn spit. All three of them were tugging at them now, Caer rougher than all of them, more desperate. “Beau—” Aislinn snapped. “Healing magic.”
Beau nodded, understanding. He pressed a hand to Luna’s temple, sparks prickling beneath his fingertips. She woke in an instant, grabbing her rolling pin. “What’s happening—”
Aislinn wasn’t listening. She and Beau moved over the rest of them, forcing them to wake. They fumbled for weapons, Minerva shouting out orders.
“Stay close!” she bellowed quietly. “Stay together!”
The trees in the distance started to move. A great, lumbering shape headed towards them, bending trunks like toothpicks.
Aislinn saw it seconds before the others, and froze.
A giant.
It crashed into the glade, grinning from ear to ear, the earth thundering beneath it. “Dwarves,” he drooled, eyes bright, mouth cavernous. “Tasty, tasty dwarves. Fae, too, and a nice, juicy mortal. A feast. A feast!”
He let out a sound half like a roar, half like a crow.
