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I could be obstinate. I could refuse the offer just to spite them. But what was the point? No, this gesture wouldn't make up for them being jerks. And their concession wouldn't erase the fact that I had deceived them, and they were still mad. But was there really any point in behaving like children?
"I'll take it," I told Mirri. And, mustering up the politician I had been trained to be, I smiled gently and offered a concession of my own in return. "And if you want to, you can take one of the other beds—I think this waystation has two beds and a couch. The others are welcome too, if they can promise not to make me want to punch them in the face."
Mirri chuckled softly at that. But he shook his head. "I appreciate the offer. And I'll tell the others. But I think it's best if we just give each other some space."
I nodded in understanding. "I get it. Besides," I said wryly, "you wouldn't want them to think you were taking my side."
Mirri rolled his eyes. "There are no sides, Kat. We've all been behaving like petulant children, yourself included."
Arching my brows, I looked into his golden eyes and couldn't help myself. "So then…it won't matter if I do this?"
Stepping in close, I wrapped my arms around Mirri and hugged him, hoping he would understand that I wasn't just doing it to tease him or make the others mad. Hoping he understood that I really was grateful that he was trying to help us all get along, despite whatever anger or hurt he might still harbor.
He patted my back and gave me a brief squeeze in return before he headed off to join his friends. And I thought maybe he understood just fine.
Chapter 5
We weren't suddenly the best of friends, but things got easier after that. The days passed with less tension between me and my mates. And that little change seemed to have a cheering effect on everyone in our travel party. Jasper laughed and chatted more freely. The guards let down a bit of their professional walls and shared stories and anecdotes to pass the time. And a bit of the constant stress and worry that I carried started to ease. I might still be worried about the future of Larkwood, but at least I didn't feel like I was swimming through hatred at the same time.
Over the next week, we camped in the woods a few times in between waystation stays. My bonded males didn't crowd my space or make any overtures of closeness. But I noticed they set up their bedrolls in a half-circle around mine, so that I slept between the campfire and them, rather than with the woods, the road, or the guards at my back. They were protecting me, in their own way, rather than leaving that duty to the royal guards.
Even Fife was more civil. Though he just took to ignoring me and pretending I didn't exist, rather than sending searing death glares my way.
Over a week into our travels, we encountered our first real external challenge.
I was riding between Jasper and Mirri, telling them about how I had spent my early life as an ordinary citizen, running amok in Larkwood, amusing the locals and driving my mother and father insane with my curiosity–which more often than not ended in some unintended minor catastrophe. We were all laughing, the sun shining in dappled patterns through the canopy of trees. We passed out of the trees and into a clear area where the river ran across the road.
The water here rippled over a narrow sandbar that made a natural bridge, of sorts. The river was so shallow that they had never built a bridge to cross it. It was less than a couple handsbreadths deep here, and clear, shimmering over the rusty-colored sand and pebbles of the riverbed. The griffins could fly over it, and Balefire could shift to something winged and get me across, if we were afraid to get wet. But it was a warm day, and the creatures all enjoyed splashing about as we forded the narrow bit of shallow water.
We were halfway across when a shrill shriek rent the air, and the deeper water off to the left started to boil. I froze for a second in surprise as the world erupted into chaos. It wasn't uncommon to encounter wild creatures of every sort in the mountains, magical or otherwise. But…this seemed a strange place for a hydra.
Currant swore and called up a ball of magic in her palm as nine snarling heads emerged from the river in a spray of water. She used her other hand to point at the far bank. "Out, now! Flank the steward."
The guards circled me, sheltering Jasper and Mirri as well, since they were right next to me. But I didn't immediately kick Balefire into motion. I was too busy looking behind me, to where Adder, Fife, and Bach brought up the rear, separated from us by the snarling heads of the hydra. "My mates!" I snapped at the guards. "Protect them, not me!"
But no one was listening. The hydra was small, by hydra standards, but still more than capable of eating people. It had somehow hidden in the drop off a little way from our crossing, where the water was deeper. It reared up out of the river, iridescent scales shedding rivulets of water, as its long necks coiled and lashed like angry serpents. Long, toothy snouts snapped at us, repelled by swords and small bursts of magic from the guards around us.
Someone was stupid enough to grab Balefire's bridle and attempt to pull the pooka forward, toward the far bank of the river. Bale screamed an equine scream and snapped at the poor guard, nearly biting his arm off. It galvanized me into motion, and I pulled at the horse-shaped pooka's reins, yanking him back so he didn't help the hydra eat people. Clicking my tongue at him, I jabbed my heels into his side and urged him to move toward the bank. These people weren't going to get out of harm's way until I was safe. So, it was no use sitting around here refusing to move. Even if it killed me to ride off without the rest of my males.
We reached the far bank, and I whirled my mount around, looking for my other three mates. The sight that greeted me took my breath away. Adder had his bow out, a glowing arrow knocked, drawn, and pointed right at the creature's heart. Fife's eyes glowed with violet light, and he held up his hands, one holding a glowing spell around the hydra that kept it frozen in place, while the other hand pushed a shield spell our way, placing a shimmering barrier between everyone on the bank and the monster in the water.
And Bach quickly slid off his griffin. I watched with my mouth hanging open as the big highborn male dismounted, then stepped closer to the hydra, holding his palms up toward the beast in a placating gesture. He spoke, but the words falling from his lips weren't human. They flowed and chirped, hissed and trilled, just like the sounds the hydra made. Bach's aura glowed blue with his activated water magic as he…spoke with the hydra?
After a moment of back and forth in that weird, hissing language, Bach gestured for Fife to release the creature. The magic faded away, and the hydra sank back into the deep spot that was barely large enough to accommodate it, disappearing from sight.
Adder kept his bow out, but relaxed his hold as Bach mounted up once more and the three of them finished crossing the river.
"What the hell did I just witness?" I spluttered eloquently, once I managed to stop gaping at them.
Fife looked at me for a long moment, then kept on riding, past me and the guards and a little way up the path. Adder followed, twisting in his saddle to tuck his bow away.
"Thank you," I called after the grumpy males. "But seriously," I said, turning back to Bach. "Did you just speak with a hydra?"
He let out a tired sigh and nodded at me, running a hand over one of his strange, fin-like ears. "Yes. It's part of my magic."
I shook my head. "I knew you had a water affinity. But I thought that just meant you could work with that element."
He quirked a half smile at me, and his expression softened just a bit. "It seems there is a lot you don't know about your mates, Lady Katrina."
