“Leave us,” Merecot ordered the courtiers and the guards.
Bowing, the courtiers scurried out, and the guards shut the doors behind them. Jastra clucked her tongue. “You seem nervous. Don’t be. You’ll have one of the court historians on each side of you, and they will feed you all the ritual lines. They know it backwards, forwards, and upside down. Sometimes I think they’re born knowing—”
Shaking her head, Merecot beamed at Jastra. She wasn’t nervous. She felt like dancing! Seizing her mentor’s hands, she squeezed them in excitement. “The Protector is gone, and our guests are nearly here!”
“Splendid!” Jastra said, beaming at her with a beloved parent’s pride. “You do realize they’ll most likely cry. Or even scream. Children often do.”
“I’ll make sure they’re happy here,” Merecot promised. “Semo is the most beautiful land in all of Renthia. Full of delight. They’ll enjoy their stay.”
Jastra patted her hand.
And Merecot added, “And if they’re lucky and both queens of Aratay see reason, I may not even have to kill their mother.”
“I do admire your optimism,” Jastra said fondly.
Erian was terrified.
Or, at least, she had been at first, when the spirits with vicious beaks attacked her and Llor, chasing them as they fled on Bayn. When they’d plucked her away from the wolf, she thought she’d die from fear. She’d screamed so hard that she’d scraped her throat and lost her voice. She was left merely whimpering as the spirits carried them north.
But she couldn’t stay terrified forever. Oh, she was still scared. She wasn’t stupid. She knew what rogue spirits did to people they caught.
Except that the spiritsdidn’ttear her and Llor limb from limb.
Or eat them.
Or skin them.
Or squeeze them.
Or drop them.
And after a few hours, being afraid became... well,boring. She began to notice they were flying between mountains, extraordinary mountains, with peaks so high they vanished between clouds and cliffs so steep and sheer they looked like petrified waterfalls. And the colors! The stone wasn’t just grayish, like on the forest floor. It was shimmery black or as red as the sunset or streaked with glittering white sparkles.
Snow clung to the ridges and peaks, and far below, she saw rivers—great, gushing, white foam rivers—battering the walls of canyons.
The two spirits carried them between the canyon walls, and the only sound was the rush of wind. But that sound was so loud that it was like a steady scream. Erian wondered if, when the flight ended, she’d be able to hear anything else.
Eventually, the flight did end.
As the sun sank, so did the spirits, gliding down into one of the canyons. She saw a dark blotch on a canyon wall, which grew as they flew closer—a cave. And her terror returned as they flew inside, into the darkness.
Now they’ll kill us!
She was dropped a few inches above the rock floor and landed with a thump. It hurt for an instant, but she hadn’t fallen far. She scrambled, trying to get her feet underneath her to run away—she didn’t know where to. The cave was halfway up a cliff. But everything inside her screamed,Away, away, away!
She smacked into a cool leathery body—the spirit!
Screaming, she ran in the other direction and then tripped over something soft. She sprawled forward, scraping her hands on the rocks as she tried to catch herself.
“Erian?”
She’d tripped over Llor. Crawling to him, she wrapped her arms around him tight. He was crying, big heaving sobs that shook his body. “Shh,” she said into his hair. “You’re okay. We’re okay.”
“Are we going to die?”
“No,” she said instantly.
“I don’t want to die. It’ll hurt. And I’ll miss you.”
