Page 56 of This Midsummer Heart
“That sounds…vaguely threatening.” I arch a brow at him. “Isit a threat?”
His eyes twinkle down at me. “That, dear Titaine, depends entirely on your current views of me.”
I have to roll my eyes at that. I barely know what they are myself. I suppose he’s…less annoying of late. But I’m spared from a response as he dismounts from his horse to stretch his legs and back.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a wisp of pure darkness, like a ripple in the very fabric of this place. My head snaps towards him, only to find no trace of it.
Auberon looks back at me, confused, before shrugging of my alarm and wandering off. Nothing there at all. But I wasn’t imagining it.
Auberon is the first dark elf in centuries to have any significant dark magic at his beck. Except I don’t think itisat his beck. He can’t control it at all. Will he find help at Nox, or will it only grow more difficult to hold in check?
I shake off these thoughts. They’ll do me no good now—not when there is still the Bridge of Miracles to contend with. I cannot be distracted.
I pat the side of Giselda’s neck, leaning low across her so that my golden-brown hair falls into her mane of white. “Soon, girl, it’ll be time for the ride of your life. You’ll be free to run just as fast as you please.”
Giselda tosses her head as I rise to sit straight in the saddle again. I’ve lost sight of Auberon, but I’m not worried just yet. He’s probably just gone to the privy.
When he is still not back after twenty minutes, I start to worry. The line is moving forward at last.
One of the rangers at this outpost approaches me, eying me somewhat warily. Though the points of my ears are covered, he senses that I’m not human.
For the first time, I realize that everyone around usis.There’s not a magical being in sight.
“Traveling alone?” the ranger asks in accented Renian, his tone and body language stiff as new leather.
I shake my head, replying in the local tongue, even though it is native to neither of us. “My companion has stepped away.” I swallow down my discomfort. “These two horses were loaned to us by the Mayor Arquina of Adellor. We were asked to leave them here.”
“Adellor?” The man’s brows shoot up. “I heard they were open to trade again, but you’re the first travelers who’ve passed through from there—on this side, anyway. A caravan came from the south just yesterday, headed back home. The next will be happy to take them along, I’m sure. We’ll look after them at the stables in the meantime.”
“What do we owe you?” I ask, patting my bodice nervously.
“They’ll pay up on the way through when they collect the horses, ma’am. The traders from Adellor keep their word, even if no one crosses quite so often now. Lina is from there, actually. Oi, Lena!” he calls.
“The last caravan—did they have any trouble with the crossing?” I ask.
Slowly, this man is thawing—more so when a female ranger joins him, a ledger and pencil in hand.
“They made it alright. Just not the caravan behind them. It’s why we’re spacing the number of travelers even more.” He points his chin at his companion. “Did they make the cut for tonight?”
My heart beats a little faster. We’resoclose to making it to the southern wolding. Yet I have the unsettling feeling that delaying even one more night could mean losing my magic—just when I will need it most.
Chapter twenty-six
Waiting to Cross
Titaine
“You’rethelastone,”the ranger Lina says, double-checking the list. My worry eases, just a touch. “Just you and the horses, ma’am?”
“My companion and this horse only.”
“The other two are to be picked up and brought back to Adellor.”
Lina’s eyes light up at the mention of her home. She immediately changes to her own language, asking for news and how the curse came to be broken.
I keep the details vague. She’s clearly happy to hear of it. Maybe one day, someone will tell her it was me who broke the curse, and she’ll remember this. I hope she’ll remember that magic can still be used for good, and not become so wary of the fetes and elves, as others are.
The attention sent Auberon’s way as he walked off is plenty of proof of that. It was distinctly hostile. And I know Auberon felt it, too. His back was straight as the honed edge of a blade.
