Page 52 of The Great and Terrible

Well, okay then. Guess he agreed with the ring. “I approve.”

The executioner dug a fire pit. I gathered sticks.

Not Her Highness, Queen Leona. “I’m starved,” she said, flicking her hair over her shoulder and sitting with the grace of a sovereign, her expression pinched and easy to read.Give me my supper, peasants.

“Then go foraging.” As the fire blazed, I poured Nugget a bowl of milk provided by Jasher, courtesy of Greta. Once the dog drank his fill, he settled in at my side near the warmth of the flames. He fell asleep, snoring softly.

“My skillset revolves around staying out of everyone’sway.” Leona batted her lashes with mock kindness. “You’re welcome.”

I looked to Jasher for help.

“I won’t be preparing a seven course meal.” He crouched nearby, busy riffling through the bag, revealing what else the old woman had packed. A bag of what looked to be carrots, potatoes and onions, plus a bunch of cookies wrapped in cloth I would be devouring at the first opportunity. There was also a small tin with mystery contents, two canteens of water, clean clothes, two thin blankets, a multi-use tool of some sort, and ten fist-size rocks.

As he removed the rocks, Jasher actually snickered.

Confusion set in, and I wrinkled my brow. “Do you usually carry around so many weights?”

“Greta likes to tease me about working harder.” He passed me and Leona a cookie. “There will be two courses. Dessert and soup.”

“Thank you, Jasher!” I snatched it up as fast as humanly possible, sinking my teeth into the treat. Oh, yes! The succulent taste of sugar thrilled every inch of my being.

The mayor shoveled the entire sweet into her mouth, crumbs falling out as she chewed.

“What’s in the tin?” I asked, attempting to savor the rest. In the end, I did just like the mayor and shoveled.

“Rain gear.”

Leona jackknifed to her feet, paling. “You’re expecting a storm?”

“I always expect a storm.” He searched my gaze for a long suspended moment, his irises heating. “But I’ll let nothing happen to you.”

Instant breathlessness. The urge to draw him struck hard and fast. First, though, I needed to trace my fingertips over his face to gain full knowledge of his peaks and hollows. I’d start with his lips. No way they were as soft as they appeared. I forced myself to look away.

“I’m not budging from this spot, so don’t go ripping each other’s clothes off,” Leona muttered, easing back down. “Or do. I’m bored and a distraction doesn’t sound half bad.”

He stiffened and stalked off, disappearing beyond a wall of foliage.

“You are the worst,” I snipped at her, giving chase. Nugget continued snoring.

“Hey! Where are you going?” she bellowed. “You can’t leave me here alone with the creature!”

“If you hurt my dog,” I called, “he’ll be eating your organs by morning. Bitter or not.”

I found the beautiful executioner standing statue-still in a small circular clearing lit by more luminous mushrooms, his face to the sky as he inhaled with purpose. An invisible weight rested on his shoulders.

Oh, man. I’d made a mistake, following. He required solitude. Intending to sneak off, I backed up a step. Not a noise did I make, yet he said, “You’re handling everything better than I expected.”

Okay, so, maybe he’d only sought a break from Leona. Understandable. “Honestly? I’m only handling it well on the outside. My mind is a mess.” I glided to his side and peered up at the sky, too. Colorful stars winked from a sea of black velvet.

“Go ahead. Ask the burning question you’ve somehow contained all day,” he said and sighed.

How well he’d come to know me, so quickly. “What can you tell me about the prophecy the Guardian is willing to kill to hide?”

Jasher’s mood dipped from strained to leery. “Water maidens claim King Ahav’s child is destined to return to Hakeldama and ends storms, sacrifices, and monstra.”

Every word hit like a bomb, exploding inside me. Me, some kind of hero? A promised protector. Please. There was no way this so-called prophecy pointed to me. “The king’smistress must have given birth.” Yes, yes. A strong possibility. Most kings kept mistresses.

Jasher massaged his nape. “If he had another child, it’s the best kept secret in the realm.”

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