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It was barely dawn when Daeary kissed my neck. “Good morning, little lamb. Time to rise. Dyfroedd has brought us breakfast.”
Soon, I sat on a log and grimaced at the grossness of it all. My hair was a mess, tangled and flattened after yesterday’s dunking. I was sure I smelled as bad as the males across from me. We all could do with a good soak in a hot bath.
Dyf handed me a handful of tiny apples. “They will nourish you, even though they are a little tart.”
The men watched as I bit into one. They burst out laughing as I yelped and spat the pieces on the ground. The fruit might look like a small apple, but it tasted worse than my dad’s quinces.
“What the hell is that?” I stared in dismay at the other fruit in my hand.
“We call ithafal,” Dyf said, chewing loudly.
“How do you eat that? It’s disgusting.”
Daeary shrugged. “You are not yet hungry enough, or you would eat these before you starve.”
I glared at the offending food, but he was right. I might regret not filling my belly when I had the chance. Taking another bite, I squeezed my eyes shut while I ate.
Weirdly, the longer I chewed, the more I found the apple taste underneath the sourness, even though my tongue and the inside of my mouth were going numb.
When I was done with the hafal, Dyf offered me a handful of sandy black roots. This time, I forced myself to chew through the bitterness until I’d eaten all he’d given me. Then he offered me some fresh water to rinse my mouth.
“Good. These roots counteract the poison in the hafal.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me. What? Why didn’t you tell me those things were poisonous?”
“You would not have eaten them. And after what Daeary took from you, you need sustenance to recover your strength. Fear not. Thegyffurroots make the hafal safe for us.”
Daeary nodded along, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. Yesterday, he’d looked like a corpse. Today, he was so close to his old self, I wouldn’t have minded eating another bowl of sour, poisonous apples, just to see him laugh again.
“When you are finished, we must make haste. The Eryr Eyra will not give up easily.”
Dyf scanned the forest warily as if he expected an immediate attack. Dragging myself to my feet, I followed the merman as he continued deeper into the woods. Daeary brought up the rear, his good mood replaced with a tension that put me on edge.
And yet, despite the looming threat, nothing happened. Insects settled on my arms until I brushed them off. The sun rose higher, its light filtering through the dense canopy. Where we walked, it stayed gloomy, the rays never fully penetrating the clamminess emanating from the rotting leaves and damp earth.
Something grew warm against my chest. I didn’t pay attention until the necklace became so hot, it hurt against my skin. With a curse, I pulled it from under my shirt. What was setting it off this time?
“Dyf. Look. The amulet.”
The merman didn’t turn to check. Instead, he fell into a crouch and scanned the surroundings, his body tensed and ready to fight. We waited long minutes, but nothing happened.
I turned to check behind us, and the heat faded from the artifact.
“That’s weird,” I muttered. “It stopped—”
I turned to address the merman, and the amulet heated again.
“Ouch.” Holding it away from my skin, I experimented by turning this way and that. Whatever was setting off the artifact only happened from one direction. I took a few steps, but my foot caught against something pointy, hidden under moss.
I stumbled and would have crashed down hard if Daeary hadn’t caught me by the arm. Before us was a collapsed wall. Dyf went through a gap, and beyond a line of trees, dripping with ivy, was an ancient stone archway, half-crumbled with thick vines curling around the weathered pillars.
Daeary traced his fingers along the faded runes etched into the stone, murmuring under his breath. A prickle crept up my spine. My hand gripped the necklace, whose heat had simmered to a steady protective warmth.
On the other side of the archway, a set of stairs descended into darkness. I took a deep breath and stepped forward. The moment I crossed the threshold, the amulet seared hot. My knees buckled and spots swam before my eyes. Strong hands grasped my shoulders, steadying me, but it was too late. I felt myself falter, then fall into darkness.
Chapter twenty-seven
BETH
