Page 20 of Nightmare's Dance

“And you have found me,” he replied. The shadows swirled around him again, and I lost my fix on his features for a moment.

“We have to get out of here. Dear old Baz has noticed your absence, and I’m sure he’s released the hounds.”

I staggered to my feet, his hand still on my arm, solid though the rest of him seemed to be made of shadow.

“Hounds?” Moving stiffly, I took a few steps to loosen my muscles.

“We do not want to get caught by them, I promise.”

Nic solidified again, now standing, though I hadn’t seen the transition. He was tall, slender, and broad shouldered. He wore a long-sleeved t-shirt and dark jeans—I thought. No, it looked more like slacks now, and a button-down shirt. Wait…No, his clothes were definitely shifting, along with some of his features. It was as if his hair couldn’t settle on a length, and occasionally parts of him simply dissolved into shadow, only to reform moments later.

Trippy…

“How are we going to outrun hounds?” I hated how scared my voice sounded, but damn it, I was terrified.

Nic glanced around before gesturing. A few shadows detached from trunks of trees or piles of rocks and scattered.

“They’ll try to draw the hounds off, and we’ll go as quickly as we can.” Nic set off through the woods.

“I have so many questions.” I hurried after as best as I was able.

“I imagine you do,” he answered, his soft accent enjoyable and oh, so familiar. Kiwi? Was he from New Zealand? I remembered a few actors from that region that I enjoyed listening to.

“Are you going to answer them?”

“If we don’t get killed escaping from Baz and his hounds, I’ll do my best.”

Taking the hint when Nic didn’t elaborate, I remained quiet and concentrated on staying with him. He was hard to keep track of, at times difficult to make out amongst the swirling shadow stuff that was prevalent even here, and in other instances completely solid.

I trudged onward, vision narrowing to where I thought Nic was. Exhaustion made it hard to concentrate, and hunger gnawed at my stomach. We’d been walking long enough that my adrenalin had faded, and my feet dragged.

“Stop that,” Nic snarled.

I lurched to a halt, inches from stepping into a murky pool of water. The swirl of lighter shadow I’d been following dissipated, laughter sounding around us.

Nic solidified next to me, putting a hand on my arm. “My apologies. I seem to have lost you to the will-o’wisp.”

I nearly lost it, keeping back the sobs and the fear by sheer force of will.

“You look done in. I suppose I can imagine why.”

Without asking, and before I could object, Nic swept me up into his arms and continued on at a much faster pace.

“You’re just going to carry me, then?” Irritation warred with exhaustion and fear. It was inconclusive which feeling won the fight, but I thought it might have been the fatigue.

“Yes. For now. We can rest at the old cabin for a short time while I see if the shades drew off the hounds.”

“What if they didn’t?”

“Then we’re in real trouble. All the mirrors are broken.”

With those cryptic words, he fell silent, and I just didn’t have the energy to ask any more questions.

Though Nic’s features still shifted in and out of shadow, he remained mostly solid while he held me. The warmth from his body and his friendly presence nearly undid me again. I was not some weeping child, but I couldn’t deny I was in distress, and boy did I need saving. While Nic wasn’t my knight, right now I was grateful for any real help I could get. Geraint had told me to find Nic. I hoped he’d known what he was doing. Hell, I prayed he was still alive.

I rubbed at my nose and continued to fight off tears at the thought of my knight in the hands of cruel Prince Baz.

“Not much farther,” Nic assured me.