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The muffled sound of a twig snapping makes my head whip to the left. I quietly pull an arrow from my quiver and notch the bow. Tilting my head, I listen hard but hear nothing else. It may have been a rabbit or other small creature.
“Princess Snow White of Valderán, I bid you greetings. I am Merlin, most recently from the Principality of Kisfeld. I have heard of your plight, and have come to pledge my aid.”
I shriek, nearly losing my balance. My bow falls to the earth with a clatter as I wrap my arms and legs tightly around the branch. Hanging my head over the side, I peer down. A man stands below me, wearing a long hooded robe. His magnificent white beard is long and thick, trailing down to his stomach. His hair, mostly covered by the hood, is just as white. He carries a staff in one hand, the other hangs loosely by his side. At first glance, he appears to be a harmless old man, but ancient power radiates from him. A tremor runs over my shoulders at the familiar feel, so similar to Morana’s.
“We are about to have company,” he states in a calm voice. I suddenly find myself standing on the forest floor, my bow in my hands. I look around wildly, brows lowered in confusion. “You must calm him,” Merlin continues. “He will not listen to me.”
“Who—“ A roar shatters the stillness of the night. Terrified birds shriek, flocking into the sky. Icy terror claws at my chest and I find it difficult to swallow.
“There,” Merlin murmurs, pointing his staff to the right. I turn, raising my bow. “You won’t need that,” he states matter-of-factly. His calmness soothes me, which is even more disconcerting, considering he is a stranger.
The thick ferns part, and I inadvertently step back, gasping. A low growl emits from the creature before me, followed by a gruff bark-like sound. My eyes widen comically as I look up, and up again. On all fours, he stands close to eight feet tall. His fur is a light-gold color, his thick mane a few shades darker. Spiraled horns grace his head, curving backward and to the side. Wings are tucked tightly against him, and his tail waves agitatedly.
He steps closer, lowering his head, mouth open in a snarl. His teeth are wickedly sharp and as long as my hand. “Greetings, Aren and Cassian. I am Merlin, come to offer my assistance. I mean no harm to you and yours.”
The beast narrows its eyes at Merlin and then turns toward me. He tilts his head, jerking it to the side, clearly indicating for me to move away from Merlin. Well, that’s just like Cassian, trying to protect me. Instead of obeying, I slowly advance toward him, reaching out an arm. My fingers delve into the soft fur on his chest, and a heavy rumble comes from his mouth. He’s purring. I tilt my head back, grinning up at him, and he lowers his head so I can meet his eyes. Even in the darkness, I can see the jewel-like emerald color.
He’s magnificent.
Aren shifts to the left, blocking me from Merlin’s view. “I think we should hear him out,” I murmur, scratching his chest. “We need to start building our army. If he’s willing to help, then we should at least listen.” He chuffs, returning his glare to Merlin. I sigh. Aren seems like he might be even more stubborn than Cassian.
I wasn’t sure that was possible.
Releasing a deep sigh, I put my hands on my hips. “How about shifting back so we can have a conversation?” He shakes his head and begins to growl. “Please?”
“I think he needs these,” Hilda says, materializing out of the darkness. She hands me Cassian’s clothes, and the lightbulb goes off.
“Ohh.” My cheeks burn, and I’m grateful it’s dark. Aren makes a peculiar noise, and I realize he’s laughing at me. I toss the clothes over his back, and he exchanges glances with Hilda, who instantly understands what he wants.
“Yes, I’ll keep her safe,” she assures him. I narrow my eyes and grit my teeth.I can keep myself safe, thank you very much.
The other women join us while Aren disappears into the forest. All this time, Merlin hasn’t moved, just waits patiently. A few minutes later, Cassian joins us, standing by my side.
“Who are you?” Cassian demands, crossing his arms over his chest.
I elbow him in the ribs, making him double over. “Be nice.”
“Are you still ticklish, Snow?” he whispers, his breath fanning my hair as he straightens. “Revenge is sweet, you know.”
I gulp and turn back to Merlin. “Sir, can you tell us why you have come?”
The Valkyries gather around my back, keeping their weapons handy. Merlin inclines his head toward each of them, saying each of their names at every nod. He strikes his staff against the ground twice and toadstools appear, growing larger and larger until they are the height of a chair. There is one for each of us, and we take a seat. Two torches appear behind Merlin, floating in mid-air, allowing us to get a better look at the newcomer. My mind spins when I sit down. Lions and princes and magical torches. Oh, my.
“I am a traveler,” Merlin begins. “I have been roaming both the Restüra and Reaveton continents on a personal quest. During the course of these travels, I have heard much of Queen Morana and her vendetta against Valderán.
“The Oracle is a personal friend of mine, and she informed me of your visit with her, Cassian. I, myself, hold a considerable amount of power, and I take offense to anyone who chooses to yield their magic to cause harm. I wish to make myself of service, if I may.” Merlin’s gaze rakes over the sisters. “I am sorry for what was done to you. I have roamed these lands for hundreds of years and recently heard of a legend that might interest you.”
Hilda straightens her shoulders. “What might that be?”
“Do you know the Carrion River east of Clawback Mountain?”
“Yes.”
“It is said that seven creatures live beneath its waters. Kelpies, they are called. They are the most beautiful of horses—pure white with golden manes. They wander the banks of the river, and anyone foolish enough to try to ride them, quickly meets their death beneath the rippling waves as the horses drown them. Legend has it they are driven by mindless fury, seeking revenge on the one that made them so.”
Linne sobs, burying her head in Selma’s shoulder. Thyra whispers, “They have been this close all these years?” The sisters erupt, dismay palpable in their cries.
Hilda wipes a tear from her eye and clears her throat. “Are they trapped there?”
