Page 78 of Oath of Rebellion

Chapter 27

EIRWYN CHECKED THE handle on the door and turned it. Her brows rose in surprise as it creaked open. "Not locked."

Knox snorted behind her. "Who would dare to rob this place? No one even knows it's here."

She shrugged, looking around the dark room. Sheets covered the furniture, but it appeared to be a sitting room. The curtains were nothing but a pile of dust on the floor, and when she touched a sheet to remove it from the couch, it too turned to dust.

He coughed, waving his hand in front of his face. "Darkling hells, this place is old."

"Excuse me?" a voice screeched. "How dare you say it's old. I'll have you know this is the finest place in all the land."

A flash of light lit the room, and Eirwyn covered her eyes as Knox jumped in front of her, hiding her behind him.

"Who are you? Show yourself," Knox demanded.

The light faded, but an ethereal figure remained floating above the dusty floor. A man, almost as big and broad as Knox jumped at them, his hands open as he screamed and tackled them.

Except he fell through them. Eirwyn felt the cold and shivered, Knox spinning them so he was facing the figure.

"Who am I? Who are you and why are you here? Get out, get out, get out," the figure yelled, trying to punch Knox.

Knox looked at him incredulously and said, "Sorry to disturb you. We just need to get to Hartsgrove to fetch a magic apple and then we'll be on our way."

The figure stopped and stood tall, his brow furrowed. He raked his hand through his long hair and looked around in confusion. Then he looked at his hands.

"What–alright, there has to be some logical explanation for this," the figure mumbled, turning to pace in front of the glass doors.

Eirwyn peeked from behind Knox' shoulder, her hand gripping his bicep and said, "Um, do you not know that you're a ghost?"

The figure whirled on her, his square jaw dropping in surprise. He glanced between the two of them, then back to his hands before striding to the mirror above the fireplace.

He seemed to startle, then peered closer, turning this way and that. He raked his hands through his hair and straightened his cravat.

"You're a noble, aren't you?" Eirwyn asked. His clothing shimmered, and she could see through him as if there was a haze of smoke. It was obviously well-cut fabric and the only thing in the room that appeared in good condition.

The figure turned, his face grave as he looked down his nose at them. He snorted, "A noble? My dear girl, I am the valet to the king of this forest. It was decreed by his father, the great Xander the Red, that I would protect his favorite son, Feralt."

Knox stiffened. "Never heard of them," he said.

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