Page 139 of Faeling
Except…
Vallek frowned when he realized there was nothing beneath his arm but bedding. Finally peeling an eye open, he let out a long sigh to find himself alone in their bed. Her spot beside him was cold, indicating his mischief-maker had long since slipped away.
Not only did that mean he’d have to wait to delight in her warm little body until this evening, but he likely now needed to extricate her from whatever scheme she’d gotten herself into. Of course, if he was lucky, she was merely up and about with the unicorns or even chatting at—atnotwith—Mattias, but experience told him Ravenna’s penchant for mischief was toogreat to hope for such banality.
With another sigh, Vallek rose from the warm, cozy bed and stretched out his back. Three days of marching had seen them departing the southern Griegens for the colorful swathe of the coastal foothills. The rolling hills were blanketed by thick forests, many of the trees wearing their autumn colors. The forest was sweet with the smell of decaying leaves, sometimes obscuring the path that led from the mountains out to the coast.
When Vallek stepped from the tent, he found camp a bit soggy from an overnight bout of rain. Morning mist clung to the hills, shrouding them in a damp cloak that moved heavily through the nostrils. His fellow early risers were bundled in cowls and scarves, huddling near stoked fires.
He never liked fog. It was the perfect place to suffer an ambush. The coastal hills were notorious for their soupy mornings, and if Vallek could’ve made Amaranthe’s meeting date by following the coast of Dyfan Bay, he would have. Instead, to make the Fae Queen’s meeting, just four days hence, on time, their party had to cut through the sparsely populated hills. And the fog.
Looking around, Vallek found Asta in the crowd but no Ravenna.
Keeping an eye out for his mate, should she materialize from the mist like the mysterious creature she was, Vallek approached his sister.
Asta nodded in greeting, offering him a bowl of breakfast mash.
Shaking his head to decline, he asked, “Where’s Ravenna?”
Asta’s eyes went wide before they slid away from him. “Uhmm…”
“Never mind. Keep mine warm.”
Shrugging further into his fur-lined cloak, Vallek allowed his instinct to lead him. There were far too many smells in camp to track her by scent, but his instinct proved correct when he spotted one of her guards hovering near the west side of camp.
Bowing her head in deference, the guard pointed him onwards.
Through the brush he went, following a newly made path. Every so often, he came upon another guard, who pointed him on his way to the next.
He’d walked nearly half a league and was thoroughly bewildered by the time he came to the sixth guard. The orc nodded in the direction of a bramble of blackberry bushes. There, along the lower branches, was the unmistakable silvery tail of Oberon.
Well, at least she’d taken guards and unicorns with her.
Rounding the blackberry bush, Vallek beheld one of the stranger sights he’d ever seen.
Ravenna lay on her belly fully dressed in her leathers, although no surcoat, instead covered in her blue cloak. She had a set of manacles in one hand and what looked to be a small club in the other. Oberon lay on his own belly beside her, his long head stretched out low to conceal him behind the bush. Although, the last few inches of his wicked horn rose above the leaves.
“What is it exactly you’re doing?” he asked.
He expected a laugh or a flush of embarrassment—not for both Ravenna and Oberon to swing mighty glares at him.
“Shh!” she hissed. “Get down.”
Bemused, Vallek sank to the ground, sitting with his legs crossed in front of him.
“And the reason we’re sitting in brambles is…?”
“A vision,” she whispered, “and be quiet, we don’t want to scare them away.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Ah ha.”
We’ve been out here for over an hour waiting,Oberon pouted.
The vision didn’t show when I needed to be here, just that I did,she grumbled.
