Page 31 of Pippa of Lauramore
I follow him back the way we came, and he doesn’t speak as we ride.
Is he upset? I should have listened to him.
“Do you think Galinor’s found anything?” I ask when I can’t take the silence any longer.
Archer looks over, but he doesn’t look angry. “He had all day yesterday. Let’s hope he’s foundsomething.”
“I showed him the maid-of-the-shadows when I took him to the cave. He will have found those,” I answer, confident I’m right.
“Let’s hope so.”
We continue in silence. The morning is almost over, and we still haven’t found Galinor.
I startle when I finally hear the hawk’s shrill cry. Archer glances at me, but he doesn’t have to tell me.
“I’ll wait here,” I offer.
He smiles, looking like he’s going to laugh, butcontinues on the path without a word. I’ve counted fifteen butterflies and two terrace sparrows when I finally spot him again.
And he’s not alone.
“You haven’t foundanything?”I stare at Galinor, stunned.
This is the second day of the scavenger hunt. What’s he been doing?
“Didn’t you get my message?” I told him where to find everything except the fifth item.
Galinor nods, and his handsome forehead creases in frustration.
“It’s all right.” I take his hand to comfort him. “We’ll help.”
The prince looks like he wants to turn down my offer, but once he thinks about it, he nods.
Archer lounges against a rock and frowns at the ground. I turn toward him. “What should we start with? Maid-of-the-shadows?”
Honestly, I’m a little baffled Galinor doesn’t have one yet. All he had to do was find a cave. Around here, that’s not terribly difficult.
I stamp down my irritation. It’s not his fault. He’s not familiar with the area.
Archer glances up the canyon wall not far from us. “There’s a cave there.”
I don’t see it, but I don’t doubt he’s right.
“With any luck, we’ll run into a grim boar on our way,” Archer says.
A strange look crosses Galinor’s face, and I don’t think he believes we’ll be lucky to find a boar.
We mount our horses and choose a trail that looks like it might lead us to the canyon wall. The sun is high in the sky, and it won’t be much longer before Archer and I will have to turn back.
“We passed a patch of waspnettle on the way here. Did you notice it, Archer?”
“I did.”
“Do you think you can find it on our way back?” I hope we may find an inger nest in it.
He doesn’t answer. We’ve come to a river running through the bottom of the canyon. The bridge looks questionable, and just as Archer’s mare is crossing, the rotted side support gives way. His horse lunges for the opposite bank.
“Archer!” I cry as the bridge crashes into the river, sweeping the planks and rope away with the rushing waters.
