Page 7 of Amidst the Insidious Courts
“If you think I’m going to apologise for ensuring your Goddess-damned safety…” The high fae growls, body stiff behind me.
The heavy scent of smoke fills the air, and Drystan curses loudly, telling me without looking that he’s lost control of his magic again. I half flinch before I can stop myself, wings flattening along my spine in response to the perceived threat. My skittishness only makes his hands clench harder on the reins, but I refuse to be cowed.
“I don’t. And I’m not reversing the charm.” There it is. Our lines drawn.
Drystan has openly admitted that he will do whatever it takes to protect me. I will do whatever it takes to protect those I love. I understand his point, and I’m pretty sure he understands mine, but neither of us will budge.
Which leaves us here, caught in a stalemate neither of us knows how to navigate.
Three
Rhoswyn
The rest of the ride is quiet, punctuated only by Drystan’s occasional sneeze and the inevitable muttered curse which follows. The road is well maintained, but narrow, and so we ride in single file through the countryside.
In the four hours since we left Marlen, I’ve begun to grow restless. The endless meadows of wildflowers and pretty blossom groves are becoming repetitive. Without anyone to talk to, all I can focus on is the way my skin chafes beneath my clothes. If Drystan finds my constant scratching and twisting odd, he doesn’t mention it. Perhaps he’s too busy trying to focus past my aura to notice.
At the reminder, I pull back my sleeve and start squinting, trying to see the field of energy that he claims is gold.
I may be angry with him—and even that has started to wane the tiniest bit—but it’s unfair for him to be blinded by the sight of me. We’re stuck riding together because my guides might spook another horse, and he can’t even see properly because I have yet to master what should be simple magic.
I can still pick up his aura easily enough. It flickers around him in orange and black flames, yet mine remains elusive.
“We’re here,” he announces, before I can figure out how to broach the subject.
I’ve been focused on my arm for so long that I’ve lost track of our surroundings. ‘Here’ turns out to be…
“A rock?” I ask, confused.
The boulder dominates the small woodland glade. Stretching as tall as the trees around it, its immense height is precariously balanced on a narrow base, forming a large overhang which blocks the midday sun. The massive granite face is carved with words written in fae which could be prayers or defacement for all I know. Like the tree in the Marlen temple sanctum, the rock has been wrapped with a long rope which is hung with hundreds of colourful ribbons, fluttering softly in the breeze.
“A very big rock,” Lore confirms, blinking next to me, and then blinking us both to stand directly beneath it.
It’s a sacred place, filled with the same soothing energy I felt at the temple, but I don’t understand why.
“Fae who are desperate tie the ribbons onto the ropes while making wishes,” Bram explains, stretching his arms as he walks up beside us. “The rock is special because it shouldn’t be here. The scholars estimate that thousands of years ago, before the fae were created, a melting glacier carried it here from the Winter Court.”
The sheer amount of water needed to carry such an enormous rock must have been… I can’t even imagine it.
“Before Danu created Faerie, the entire realm was a wasteland,” my brother continues, echoing my thoughts. “Fae scholars gifted with psychometry have identified a point in history called the fossil cut-off, because there were no plants or animals—” He stops abruptly, twisting his hands together. “Sorry. I… enjoy geology and got carried away.”
“Why should you apologise for that?” I reply. “It’s interesting.”
“It’s dead boring,” Lore retorts. “The rock is here. And it’s a rock. Hey, want to climb to the top? I’ll race—”
A hand on his collar captures him before he can go any farther. I half expect it to be Drystan, but he’s still fussing over Blizzard.
Jaro looms over the redcap, mouth turned down. “No climbing the sacred shrine.”
“You should bless it so we can move on quickly,” Kitarni adds, smoothing the folds of her dress down. “The next shrine is the standing circle at the sacred spring of Ellen, and that’s still hours away.”
I suck in a deep breath, not enjoying the thought of more hours in the saddle with Drystan. Still, I am here to do a job.
Placing a hand to the granite, I smile as a ribbon brushes my wrist, close my eyes and centre myself, then speak the blessing. “May all of Danu’s children find strength, shelter, and safety beneath this stone.”
The same soothing throb echoes down the bond to Danu, and I smile.
CRACK!My eyes fly open as Lore’s hands wrap around my waist, yanking me out of the way. He blinks us, and we reappear back beside the horses, which are pawing the ground nervously.
