Page 73 of Sweetling
Oh, yes, I’m coming for you now. Run, run while you can,Bellarand taunted.
More than a few acorns and twigs came sailing at them from above. Molly yelped when the sharp end of an acorn poked her head.
“All right, that’s it!” Covering her head, she retreated away from the line of fire.
You see? Menaces, all of them.
Molly would’ve said something about the squirrels just defending their homes, but all her thoughts were wiped away at the sight of Bellarand climbing the stepstool. It creaked under his weight, but still he climbed, gaining ground.
Acorns came flying in vicious volleys, but he didn’t stop, his red eyes burning as more and more squirrels gathered in the branches above.
The tip of his horn had just reached the first den when an ominouscrackechoed through the forest.
From one moment to the next, the stepstool collapsed under his weight, splintering into a hundred small pieces. Bellarand whinnied in outrage as his horn scraped down the bark then sank into the tree.
He landed on his front hooves, but when he went to shake his mane, his horn stuck in the tree.
The squirrels barked in triumph as Bellarand bucked and pulled, trying to free his horn.
Molly pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating.
“D-do you need help?” she called, trying to contain her giggling.
No,he grumbled.Leave me.
“Are you sure—”
YES,he bit out, twisting his head to start working the horn loose.
Biting her lips together, Molly did as she was told, her peal of laughter joining the squirrels’. She wiped at her eyes, wet with how hard she laughed.
But as her boots crunched leaves and the breeze rustled her unbound hair, Molly’s laughter slowly died in her throat.
Coming to a stop, she realized she’d been watching her feet, not the way, as she followed Bellarand here. They’d gone deepenough that she couldn’t see the house beyond the trees—only more forest.
Her laughter turned to trepidation as she turned in a circle. She could faintly hear the chatter of the squirrels, but the trees cut the sound. Turning, turning, she couldn’t tell which direction Bellarand was, nor where the house would be.
Molly was a creature of the city and house—she’d never spent any real time in the wilderness. Give her crowded buildings and overpopulated city squares, that she could handle. As she stood alone in the forest, the trees seemed to lean nearer, the ferns rustling with the wind as if they whispered to her.
The cool dampness of the air clogged Molly’s nose as her heart nearly beat out of her chest. The exposed nape of her neck prickled with awareness of dozens, if not hundreds of eyes, watching her, waiting…
She was about to open her mouth and call for Bellarand when the ferns parted. Molly stared as the leafy fronds created a pathway for her between the trees.
A warm weight settled at her back, as if to push her along.
Was it…the house? The estate?
Allarion.
Sucking in a breath, Molly tried to be smarter and chipped off bark from trees she passed, marking the way she’d come. Not that her previous spot hadn’t been entirely lost, but at least she knew it was somewhat close to where Bellarand and the squirrels did battle.
As Molly went, heart caught in her throat, the dense foliage continued to part, easing her way. That feeling of assurance didn’t leave her, a gentle press on her shoulder that seemed to say,that’s the way.
When the trees began to thin and the forest lightened, Molly quickened her pace. For a hopeful moment, she thought the forest had led her back out to the house.
Instead, Molly found herself walking into a clearing—a meadow, blanketed in soft grass and bordered on two sides by moss-covered boulders. Berry bushes crowded round what sounded like a babbling stream on another side. And at the center lay a figure covered in roots and vines.
The bottom fell out of Molly’s stomach.
