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As we crest a hill, a magnificent building is revealed at the bottom. The stone structure stretches across a river in arches, with turrets that pierce the sky, stained glass windows, and . . . memories. I gasp and halt my steps.I’ve been here before. When I was a child. I’d called it the bridge castle back then.
Rock stops a few paces ahead of me and glances back. I work to keep my face neutral and catch up with him. When I was here last, the grounds were perfectly manicured with servants bustling about. Now the estate’s once glorious gardens are overrun by unruly plants and bushes. No more do children giggle and play in those gardens, while the adults sip tea and eat tiny sandwiches. Water damage marks the castle, but the main structure remains intact and though the slumbering estate is empty and forgotten, gardens overgrown, and ivy taking over half of the structure, it will be a good place to hole up for the night.
“What is it?” Rock asks, noticing a change in me.
I shake my head. “Nothing.”
A tinkling sound is the only warning I get, and I drop to the ground, pulling Rock down with me. He grunts in surprise, but to his credit, goes with it. A second later, a pixie flies over our heads, an outstretched hand of gleaming claws just missing us. I pull my knife from my boot and jump to my feet. Rock is up just as fast, grabbing a fallen branch to use as a weapon.Resourceful.
We’re back-to-back, staring at five pixies hovering in the air around us. Their wings glow and shimmer in deceptively calming colors. The one I’d first spotted smiles, revealing her sharp fangs dripping with crimson blood. I spare a glance at Rock who has a growing red spot seeping through his clothes on his left shoulder. The pixie licks her lips and dives to attack.
Chapter3
Lesson on Trust
The pixie lashes out at me with her toxic claws. I reflect them with my knife and spin, knowing another pixie will strike from behind. Their strategy is: distract and attack. I block that pixie’s claws just in time and back-kick where the first pixie was. My foot connects, followed by a tiny grunt. Knowing that space is now clear for retreat, I turn to Rock, who is currently swinging the branch side to side to keep the pixies at bay.
“Follow me!” I yell at him.
I sprint down the grassy hill for the castle. If we’re going to survive this, we need to get indoors and fast. Heavy footfalls from behind tell me Rock is following. I spare a glance back and see one of the glowing pixies readying to claw Rock’s left leg.
“Veer right!” I yell.
He obeys. The pixie misses his flesh by mere centimeters. Rock quickly catches up with me, his long legs pushing him farther ahead. He reaches the ten-foot double doors and pulls on the left one. He’s holding it open for me. I’m almost there when burning pain slashes through my left arm. I hold in my cry and glance at my fresh wound. My sleeve is ripped open. Blood seeps out of four cuts. The pixie who clawed me smiles cat-like, showing the fangs she’d love to sink into my flesh.Overgrown leech. Before I have a chance to knock the grin from her face, a branch collides into her, sending the bloodsucker to the ground. I look up to see Rock smiling.
I nod once to him, showing my appreciation. My left arm lays limp at my side, flopping around uselessly like a fish out of water. My feet hit the cobblestones of the walkway.
“Hurry!” Rock motions with his arm. As if that will help me move faster. I manage an eye roll and I close the distance, dashing into the castle. Rock slams the door shut behind me. Three thuds hit the closed door, but it holds. Rock locks the beam into the slots on the doors, securing us in and the nasty, blood-sucking pixies out.
I collapse flat on my back onto the tile floors of the foyer working to catch my breath. Rock leans his back against the door and slowly slides to the ground. The pixies continue to collide with the door, their dull thuds never ceasing.
“It will hold,” Rock says through his labored breathing. I’m not sure if he says it for my benefit or his own.
I sit up, still breathing heavily. I have to admit, it’s been a while since I’ve pushed my body this hard. I’m out of shape. I’ll have to train harder when I get back. I should always be prepared for any situation. Hadn’t I been taught just that since the day I was rescued from the streets? Desmira would be so disappointed if she could see me now. I may just leave some things out when I tell her of my adventure.
The castle is dark, and I can barely see Rock, let alone anything else. I sheath my blade in my boot and say a light incantation. As soon as the words leave my mouth, a tingling radiates through my body—the magic answering my call—and a small sphere of white light appears out of nowhere, hovering in front of me. The illumination spell is easy magic and will only take a fraction of my remaining energy. But it doesn’t really matter now that I’m not running for my life and we’re safely inside and the threat is outside.
“Nice trick,” Rock says, not at all surprised by the magic.
“Comes in handy.”
Rock rubs at his face and hair. His shoulders sag with exhaustion. When he lets his hands fall, his hair sticks up at odd angles, making him look like a poor excuse for a jester. Bubbles of hysteria surface at his appearance, at our day, at the way I’m sure I must look right now. I laugh despite myself. Rock raises his brows, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind, which just makes me laugh harder.
“What is so funny?”
“We’ve had one hell of a day,” I say through my laughter. “You look like a dragon chewed you up and spit you out.”
A smile spreads across his face, then he laughs with me. “Itdid. What about you, gimp?”
I lift my left limp arm with my right hand and drop it again. It falls to my side with dead weight and we both break out into more laughter. After a minute, our laughter fades. I sigh, shaking my head. “We’re either the luckiest people or the unluckiest.”
Rock stares at me, his eyes like pools of sunlight, and his expression grows soft. “Definitely, luckiest.” His gaze shifts to my torn sleeve and he slides over to me. “Is it bad?” He takes great care handling my arm as he examines the four cuts, though I can’t feel it.
“I’ll survive. It should wear off soon. Pixies don’t need long to drain your blood.” I reach up and slide the fabric of his tunic over to reveal two puncture marks where his shoulder meets his collar. Blood slowly oozes from them. His breath catches at my touch, and he freezes.
I pull my hand back. “Did I hurt you?”
His gaze meets mine, but there’s no pain there. “I’ll survive,” he says barely over a whisper. He examines my face, lingering on my lips. My stomach tightens and my cheeks warm. And. . . I know I need to put some distance between us,now.
