Page 131 of Cursed Dreams
“She started it” Cellen murmured sulkily.
“Child” Nyla snickered
They rounded a bend in the road, the forest growing denser, swallowing more of the light. Just as Thalia was about to suggest they take a short break, the sound of hooves on the road reached her ears. Thalia instinctively stepped to the side, followed by the others. Watching as a wagon emerged from round the bend. They moved off the path to let it pass.
“Maybe we’ll get lucky,” Cellen said under his breath. “Maybe if we flag it down, they’ll stop and offer us food and a lift?”
“Or maybe it’s full of thieves and bandits,” Nyla muttered. “I’d rather not be murdered today, thanks,” “Keep your head down till it passes!”
“I’m far too young and handsome to die on the side of the road like this,” Cellen said turning pale “Tell my mother I loved her.”
Thalia rolled her eyes but gripped the strap of her pack a little tighter.
Thalia kept her eyes on the ground, willing the wagon to continue past. Her pulse pounded in her ears, each crunch of the wheels on gravel tightening the knot in her chest.
The wagon passed them and rolled a few yards ahead before slowing. The driver pulled back the reins, bringing the horses to a stop. They huffed and stamped, tails flicking, while the heavy wooden cart rocked gently as the brake clicked into place.
Thalia’s breath caught. Her hands curled into fists. The group froze. Slowly, carefully, they approached the wagon. Thalia looked up at the driver’s seat.
“Wait a minute…” she said slowly, blinking.
The man at the reins looked up from beneath the broad brim of a travel-worn hat.
“Well now,” he drawled. “Took you long enough.” He said ginning widely at them.
Thalia’s mouth fell open
Aric’s familiar voice boomed as he slapped his knee in amusement. “Now what are four young healers doing on this road, dragging their feet like mourners on a pilgrimage?”
Thalia’s heart leapt. She blinked, then blinked again, as the dust cleared enough to show his unmistakable broad grin and tanned, weathered face. Aric.
“Aric?” Nyla gasped, then broke into a relieved laugh.
“I thought you’d be halfway across the realm by now,” Cellen said, hands on his hips as they all caught up.
“And I thought you’d be elbow-deep in-patient charts, not looking like you’ve been dragged through a bush backwards” Aric tipped his hat back, laughter dancing in his eyes. “Come on, climb aboard before you all fall over. This road doesn’t get any easier.”
“Sweet Amara, you’re a gift,” Cellen groaned, hauling himself onto the back of the wagon. “I was ready to murder Nyla if she complained one more time, some of us just don’t have the stamina”
“ME” Nyla snapped, glaring as she climbed up beside him, Marand looking exasperated behind her.
Thalia was the last to climb aboard, her eyes lingering on Aric. He looked so… well. The last time she had seen him, he’d been pale and frail, barely able to hold his daughter. Now, his arms were thick with muscle, his posture strong. He didn’t look like a man who had stared death in the eye only months before.
He noticed her staring and grinned. “Don’t look so surprised, Miss Thalia. I told you I’d dance at my daughter’s wedding someday.”
“You’re driving a wagon,” Marand said, half-laughing as she settled into the straw-lined bench. “Not exactly dancing.”
Aric waved a hand. “Semantics.”
The wagon creaked as it began to roll forward. Thalia leaned back, letting the breeze sweep across her face grateful to finally be off her feet.
“So,” Aric said, glancing over his shoulder, “what’s got you lot heading north with nothing but packs and each other’s company?”
“Top-secret healer business, in the fae lands” Cellen said with a wink. “We could tell you, but then we’d have to magically erase your memory.”
“Tempting,” Aric mused. “But I quite like my memories. Especially the ones where I don’t wake up glowing.”
Thalia smiled faintly she had missed Aric’s humorous ways after he left, the temple. She was happy to see him, if not a little shocked at how well he looked. The instinct to examine him and check everything was as it should be wrangled in her mind; she slid her hands under her thighs to avoid the temptation.
