Page 131 of Sweetling
You’ve done your part, titmouse,Bellarand told her,now let them do theirs.
Quit being nice to me, it’s unnerving.
I know, I don’t like it, either.
Listening to Bellarand’s grumpy tone in her head strangely soothed her, and so Molly did all she could—she put her head down and moved with the unicorn as he galloped.
Their journey took forever and no time at all, the trees narrowing her vision in a green blur. The path lay before them in a dusty, snaking line, but Molly sensed when they neared Scarborough. The hairs on her arms stood up, and she swore the trees began to bend toward them, as if to whisper their news.
Heart jumping into her throat, Molly leaned even further down on Bellarand’s withers as the unicorn broke formation, thundering onto the estate. She heard someone calling out to them, probably Captain Aodhan reminding them to keep formation, but neither Molly nor Bellarand listened.
Gravel flew from under his black hooves as they pounded the ground, racing up the drive toward the house. Despite the cold but clear winter day, the lampposts all came blazing to life as they passed, burning with an eerie blue flame.
Bellarand flew into the front courtyard of the house, gravel spattering the steps up to the front doors. His nostrils flared as he heaved for breath, and he tossed his mane.
No Allarion to greet them.
He should be here.
Standing up in the stirrups, Molly pulled down her scarf, cupped her hands around her mouth, and shouted, “ALLARION!”
Her entreaty echoed through the quiet trees into the empty sky.
The house shuddered, its shingles clacking.
Soon, the sound of the others coming up behind them filled the silence, but Molly could hardly hear. She looked around desperately for her fae, as if he might materialize from the shadows or come strutting out the front door.
“Is Allarion here?” Molly called out to the house.
Nothing.
Her stomach dropped.
“Has he returned at all?”
Silence.
“Miss Molly, who do you talk to?” asked Lord Hakon.
“The house,” she replied, not stopping to explain. There wasn’t time. “Is he somewhere on the estate?”
The shingles clapped softly. Not a confident answer.
Do you feel him?
Molly frowned at the back of Bellarand’s head, but before she could grumble that no, of course she didn’t if he wasn’t here, she stopped to reallyfeel.
She drew in a deep breath, feeling the air around her, how it rustled through the pine needles and cedar leaves. The tree limbs swayed and the berry bushes rustled—all northward.
And Molly knew, as surely as she’d known anything, although not sure how but not really caring either, thatHe’s to the north.
Bellarand shook out his mane, and Molly swore his horn began to glow purple.That’s what I thought. Hold on!
She’d just enough time to grab onto his mane before he leapt back into motion.
“He’s this way!” Molly called over her shoulder.
Bellarand led the charge around the house, catching the rutted footpath past the garden up into the wilderness of the northern part of the estate. Molly had seen it only once, hiking through trees and foliage with Allarion just for the sake of some exercise and seeing what all the corners of Scarborough looked like.
