Page 13 of House of Gilded Nightmares

“How exactly do you create those wings?” I ask.

I look over at him as he walks. Well, strides. Very purposefully toward our destination, jaw tight, hand casually on the hilt of his sword.

“I told you, magic,” he responds brusquely.

“Well, why can’t you fly us to the Court of Nightmares, then?”

He sighs with great exasperation. “It takes a great deal of magic to conjure wings. I can only hold the spell for a few minutes.”

“And then your magic is used up?”

He cuts his silver eyes over to mine. “For a time. But magic is only one of my defenses.”

I look back toward the forest in the distance. “So, if we’re attacked again before we reach the river, you won’t be able to fly?” I’m torn between wanting his magic to be depleted and knowing that if I’m carried off again, there will be no saving me.

Zyren stops walking and turns to face me, jaw rolling. “Traversing Valaron alone is not a good idea, princess.”

“What do you—”

“Do not try to escape,” he growls, taking me by the arm again and leading me forward.

I yank my arm out of his grip, fuming and furious he’d read me so easily. “I don’t need help walking!”

His tone carries a taunt and a warning both. “I’m glad to hear that.”

The next couple of hours pass in silence as we travel toward the river. Zyren is not going to be easy to get away from, especially now that he’s alert to the idea of me trying to escape. But he must have some sort of weakness, and I will find it. A moment when he’s distracted, or perhaps when he falls asleep. A plan begins to formulate in my mind.

Sienna and violet streak the sky, the sun nearly gone behind the mountains, when we finally make it to the river. It is deep and swift, with rocky banks that make it difficult to enter and exit. There is no bridge.

“How are we going to get across that?” I stand on the rocky ledge, watching the rushing water with wide eyes.

Zyren crosses his arms over his chest and frowns at the river. “It’s not as deep as it looks. It can be forded.”

“You’ve done it before?”

“Once or twice.”

He turns and looks over his shoulder at the open hills behind us, his eyes scanning back and forth for a moment. His face is neutral, his air casual, but even that simple gesture sends a shiver through me. The river may be ferocious, but it’s clear we cannot linger here.

Without further discussion, Zyren sits on the ledge and slowly lowers himself into the water that swirls hungrily at the bank. When he gains his footing and straightens, the river comes up to his waist. He turns to face me in the strong current, lifting his arms in a gesture for me to step forward.

If only I wasn’t on the wrong side of the river, this would be the perfect time to make my escape. But I’d be trapped over here, hunted by all manner of creatures. Grinding my teeth together in frustration, I squat down on the ledge and lower my legs into the water. A hiss escapes my lips: it feels like blades of ice.

Zyren reaches forward to help me down, but I pivot away from him. “I’m fully capable.”

He glares and drops his hands to the side, stepping back away from me. When my feet touch the gravel and larger chunks of rock at the bottom of the river, more pain cuts through them. It really is incredibly inconvenient to be abducted when you’re wearing no shoes. I try to hide my wince unsuccessfully, biting my lip against the pain of the freezing water and the sharp rocks. Since I’m much shorter than Zyren, it swirls up nearly to my collarbone.

“Hold onto me as we cross,” Zyren orders.

I lift my gaze to his. “I told you I’m fine.”

“I’m not asking, princess,” he snaps, reaching out and taking my wrist in an iron grip.

I struggle for a moment, but it becomes instantly clear I can’t fight the river and Zyren both. I have no choice but to follow him as he takes another step forward, then another, slowly forging across the current. The river tries its best to claim us, pulling with the force of twenty horses, swirling, sucking, yanking us as we move. It takes what seems an eternity to cross, and when we finally reach the other side, I can barely feel my limbs from the cold. Or my lips or my nose. I try with all my willpower not to let my teeth chatter, but it can’t be helped, no matter how hard I try.

The opposite bank is just as treacherous, and while it seems no higher than the one on the other side, now that I’ve used all my strength fighting the river, I can’t imagine pulling myself up out of the water. Zyren goes first, placing my hands around a large boulder to hold onto while he emerges. He rests his arms on the rocky bank and surges upward from the water as if it’s nothing. His black clothing clings to him, contouring every muscle, every hard plane of his body.

He reaches down and offers me a hand, and after a moment of indecision, I take it. First one hand and then the other. He lifts me from the river as if I weigh nothing and am not sopping wet head to toe. My legs buckle, and he steadies me as we walk away from the river. I am too tired to care that my white dress is plastered to my body. I might as well be completely nude. And as cold as I am, I’m tempted to strip off this soaked clothing and be done with it.

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