Page 61 of The Last Wish of Bristol Keats
He stepped up to where the light had been and tossed a rock. The spot lit up again briefly, illuminating a massive entrance to the glade in Timbercrest.
“Holy loving shitcakes,” Sashka mumbled.
“Concur,” Cully said.
Quin stared, his eyes wide. “I’ve never seen one that big.”
“None of us have,” Kasta replied.
Bristol glanced at Tyghan and shrugged playfully, trying to act like it was no big deal, but giddiness bubbled inside her. She was just as awed as everyone watching. “Is that what you had in mind?”
Tyghan’s mouth circled into an O. “I think I need to test this,” he finally said. He called for August and settled into his saddle, circling and positioning himself in front of the portal.
“What? Wait,” Bristol said, concern rapidly deflating her awe. “You’re going to go through it? It won’t light up from the other end! How will you find—”
“Now!” Tyghan shouted, and August bolted forward. The portal lit up as they sailed through it, and then they were swallowed whole. Light, man, and beast. Gone.
The silence was jolting. The officers, even Commander Maddox and Officer Ailes, moved closer, peering at the place where the portal had been, as shocked as Bristol. She stared, uncertain what to do. Terror clutched her. What if he didn’t come back? Her knees weakened. What if she got the coordinates wrong? What if—
And then the portal lit up again. Tyghan and August raced through it, the Timbercrest glade visible behind them, and they leapt back onto the training grounds.
A round of cheers went up, but Bristol’s heart still hammered against her ribs. Tyghan slid from his saddle and officers closed in, clasping hands overhead, ecstatic. Bristol remained planted where she was, still trying to catch up with her own emotions. Tyghan noticed, and in a few long strides, was beside her. Instead of offering him similar congratulations, she shoved both of her hands into his shoulders. “What do you think you were doing? You could have—”
Tyghan laughed and grabbed her before she could shove him again. “Have more faith in yourself,” he said. “Don’t you realize what this means? I don’t have to worry about moving twenty thousand troops into place on the day of the ceremony. With portals of this size, whole regiments can jump straight from the garrison to the valley. Fomoria won’t know what hit them.” When she still just stared at him, he added, “This is huge, Bristol. You can smile.”
Her initial fright subsided, and the news sank in.Huge. A small laugh finally shook her chest, and she threw her arms around his neck. “But don’t ever do something like that again, without warning me first.”
“Got it. But before we experiment any more—” He grabbed her hand and began dragging her to the supply hut. “We need a little talk.” As soon as he closed the door behind them, he began kissing her and pulling his jacket off at the same time. Talk? His zeal resulted in a shovel and two shields crashing to the floor. “Ignore it,” he said.
Bristol laughed between kisses. “Everyone’s out there waiting.”
“Ten minutes max, I promise,” he said.
She scoffed. “You better count on fifteen,” she said as she shed her tunic and he snapped her bra free. In seconds, his trousers dropped to his ankles.
“What is this?” she asked, both amused and aroused by his eagerness. “Celebration sex?”
“Could be,” he said as his mouth slid down her throat. “How many kinds of sex are there?”
“Oh, I’m guessing a hundred at least.”
“Then we better pick up the pace, Keats.”
CHAPTER 45
Knights surrounded August near the watering trough, reveling in his performance, and August soaked it in. They acknowledged the king’s small role too, but it was August who had done all the magnificent running and leaping.
They praised the feat and patted August on his hindquarters.Rather undignified, he thought, but they were celebrating, and he could understand that—though he’d much prefer a good brushing down, or better yet, a juicy red apple. The reds were his favorites.
But then their attention was drawn away by six royal destriers just arriving at the Badbe stables, being delivered by Master Woodhouse. One for each of the new arrivals. Now that they were officially knights, they would no longer be using borrowed horses but would have their own Royal Tuatha de horses. Not quite as grand as August, but horses like himself only came along once in a lifetime. Still, these destriers weren’t a shabby lot, and skilled in their own ways, but the new knights gushed over them like they were made of spring clover. This was only an initial meeting, though. Above all, the horses had to be pleased with the prospects first, as it should be.
Even though she wasn’t royalty, he would miss the one named Breeze, or was it Bri? She appreciated him in ways most commoners didn’t. He was about to join the newcomers, but it was then that August spotted the shadow lurking nearby. An odd shadow, unanchored to any object, and he immediately knew it was trouble. He reared on his back legs and charged. The shadow couldn’t get away from him. August reared back, again and again, trampling it beneath his massive hooves, and the knights around him shouted, calling for August’s master, the king.
Tyghan was just putting his last boot back on when the shouts rang out. He and Bristol rushed out of the supply hut, and his eyes first darted to the sky, but then he saw knights circled around something. They ran to the group and saw a shadow at its center, barely rippling over the rough earth, slower to transform than other shadows he had encountered. But the changes were proof it was dying. Death was the only escape from the torturous limbo existence inflicted by hyagen claws.
“August trampled it,” Kasta said, but she had her sword drawn, in case the shadow made a run for it—or had to be put out of its misery.
Every knight held their breath, waiting. It was an anguish none of them would ever get used to, seeing the hapless victims used as spies. Would it be a knight one of them knew?
