Page 62 of Skalterra By Nightmare
Ferrin blinked in the candlelight.
“I knew your mother longer than you—”
“Then you know she’d never kill someone who couldn’t defend themself.”
“And that got her killed, and nearly me with her.”
“She knew what she signed up for. So do I, and I’mnothere to kill defenseless boys.”
Ferrin’s eyes darted to the Skal on Orla’s belt, and her and I both tensed as we prepared for him to lunge. But then his shoulders fell, and he ran a hand over his tired face.
“I can’t fault you for being Bryony’s daughter. Grab your pack, Orla. We aren’t coming back.” He stepped aside to make room for us to pass into the hallway. “The Grimguard is lucky I don’t have time to fight you both, but if he pursues us, I’ll make him wish hehaddied tonight.”
Orla slung her rucksack over her shoulders and filed out past Ferrin, but I stayed put and pointed to the hall.
“After you,” I said.
“You may be useful, but you’re also a nuisance,” Ferrin snapped, but he obeyed and moved towards the door. “And change your clothes. You’ll stick out like a ramstag in a skallery if you go out in that.”
Ferrin led the way out of the room, and I shook out my shoulders, focusing on shifting my clothes back to the leather armor and cloak Galahad had originally summoned me in.
“A ramstag?” I looked to Orla for explanation.
“Keldori doesn’t have ramstags?”
“I don’t think so.”
I glanced back at the Grimguard as I closed the door behind me. Hopefully he lived, and hopefully I’d never know it since my goal was to never see him again.
“Orla, get the others. Tell them we’re leaving.” Ferrin had been the nice one. Gentler than Galahad, kinder than Tiernan, but I’d disappointed him. While I stood by my actions, I couldn’t help the guilt that rose in my chest.
“I’m—”
“I used to be like you.” He didn’t sound angry, but I still felt like I was in trouble. “Maybe I still am, since I’m leaving the Grimguard alive when we both know he’d kill us all without hesitation, but if you wrap my niece up in something like this ever again, I’ll feed you to a rotsbane.”
“She’s more capable than any of you give her credit for.”
“I love Orla like she’s my own daughter, but she wasn’t made for Riftkeeping.” Ferrin pinched the bridge of his nose. “My sister never wanted this life for her.”
“She can make her own decisions,” I asserted. “She helped save a life tonight.”
“And it remains to be seen if that’s a good thing or not.” Ferrin turned to watch Orla harass Tiernan outside of Fana’s room. “I like you, Just-Wren. So does my niece. Please don’t ruin that. I’d hate to have to hurt you.”
The cobbled streets of Vanderfall had thinned out, but it was still busy enough that no one looked twice as we moved as a group between lamps and bridges. Most of the shops had closed up, and the remaining crowds congregated around the few taverns and eateries that remained open.
The night air was cool, but the fresh Skal swirling in my belly warmed me from the inside out. We’d disposed of the evidence of our thievery by drinking all the Skal we’d stolen, and while its magick heated my veins, Orla shivered in the nighttime chill without her cloak. Luckily, Tiernan didn’t seem to care enough to ask about its whereabouts and walked with a protective arm around Fana’s thin shoulders. The hem of her robes had soaked several inches deep after being dragged through puddles.
Ferrin paused ahead of a brightly lit intersection and turned around to face us with a grim expression.
“From here on, I’ll do the talking. Stay close to Fana. Touch nothing. And remember, Wren. No one can know you’re a lucid Nightmare. If anyone asks, you’re a Quillguard like Orla and me. Even if they do find out you’re a Nightmare, donot tell anyone your full name.”
“My name? Why?”
“Names give control. It’s how Galahad is able to drag you back here every night.”
“Wouldn’t it be safer to send the Nightmare home?” Tiernan asked. “If the Baron finds out she’s lucid, we’re all dead.”
“But who will you blow up if Wren isn’t here?” Orla shot back.
