Page 30 of House of Gilded Nightmares

The smell alone is strong enough to make me want to rid myself of the breakfast I’d just consumed, but I pinch my nose and chug it down as she’d directed. It burns my throat and chest, but a few moments later, the pain in my head washes away entirely.

“That’s incredible,” I say. “Thank you.”

When she walks away, I look over at Zyren. “You must have already had some. You seem very alert.”

He smiles. “I did not partake of the wine as much as you did. Plus, it is not the first time I’ve had sunfire wine.”

My cheeks go pink. There is so much I’ve never experienced, all those years trapped behind palace walls.

“Do you think you can ride?” he asks.

I nod.

“Good. We need to get back on our route to Selaye.”

We ready the horses and give our thanks to Tamhain and Jai. They fill our satchels with an abundance of bread, and meat and cheese for lunch later today. I’m back in my riding clothes, and I thank Jai for letting me use her dress and for their superior hospitality. But as we mount up, Zyren frowns. His chestnut gelding is limping, unable to hold Zyren’s weight on his back. He gets off again, and Tamhain helps him examine the horse’s legs, lifting them to inspect the bottoms of his hooves. When they reach the front left hoof, Tamhain points to a dark spot on the sole of his hoof.

“It looks like he has a stone bruise. I can make a poultice that will heal it up within a few days.”

Zyren shakes his head. “Unfortunately, we cannot linger that long…we must reach our destination soon. Will you keep him for us?”

Jai’s eyes widen. “He is a fine horse. Surely you don’t want to leave him behind.”

“It would honor me if you accepted him,” Zyren says, his tone serious.

I can tell by the way he’s said it that this is something of a code of conduct for the Veyeni. Jai and Tamhain exchange looks, then Tamhain nods.

“We would not refuse your honorable gift.”

“Thank you,” Zyren says. “Now, we must say our farewells.”

I’m about to ask Zyren how we are to reach the Court of Nightmares with only one horse when he swings up into the saddle behind me. Arrow shimmies beneath us, but she’s strong enough to carry two riders. Zyren’s arms slide into place on either side of my waist, gripping the reins alongside mine, and his chest presses into my back. I think of our dance from the night before and my silly drunken comment about stars, and I tell my stomach to stop its incessant fluttering.

We pass through the encampment and everyone comes out to wish us well on our journey. As the last of the tents fades behind us, the children follow us for a quarter mile before finally falling back. And then we are alone once again.

The hours pass in the rhythm of Arrow’s hooves on the path, the wind pressing down on us from the mountains, and Zyren’s breath on my cheeks from where he rides behind me. When we stop for a midday break to eat the meat and cheese Jai packed for us, Zyren walks to the edge of a cliff overlooking the mountains ahead. We’re not as high as the pass with the view to the ocean, but I can still make out the river leading to Selaye in the distance.

“How much longer?”

“Seven days, six if our luck holds.”

My chest tightens. “And we’ll still arrive before the Obsidian Moon completes its cycle?”

“Without any time to spare, but yes.” Zyren’s tone is heavy. “But we’ll need to find another horse. I have a friend who lives not far from our path, another two days’ ride from here. We can find a replacement there.”

I look back at Arrow, where she’s grazing. “She’s been very good, carrying us both without complaint.”

“She has.” Zyren takes a swig of water from his canteen. “I worry she won’t make it that far, though.”

We remount and continue on our way. When the sun begins to set, Zyren finds a place to make camp along the meadowed slopes of one of the mountains. Silence falls between us as we start a fire and roast a small bird for dinner. I think back on the merriment of the night before, which couldn’t be more different than the atmosphere of the camp tonight. Zyren seems to be brooding and distant. Is it because we’re down a horse and our time is running short? Or is he, too, dreading our arrival at Selaye and what that means for the future?

But I do not ask. We fall asleep with scarce a word between us and the chill of the mountains eating along my spine.

I dream of the stars overhead. I am walking an endless stretch of them, but their brilliance doesn’t make me happy. Instead, I feel cold, alone. The darkness in between tugs me at rather than the brightness.

And then there are wings. Great wings of red and purple, a splash of color against the velvety night. Teeth and claws, too, which gnash and scrape and claw, seeking me out.

When I feel the cool length of my dagger in my hand I wake up, unsure whether my dream-self or my physical-self summoned it. My eyes blink up into the starry night, and I take a deep breath to slow the racing of my heart.

---