Page 33 of House of Gilded Nightmares

“There’s a group of riders behind us.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“It depends,” he replies, voice gruff.

It takes another hour to traverse the steep ridgeline, after which we descend into a valley of evergreen trees, patches of which are blackened by lightning. The slopes are dotted with red flowers that remind me of blood. We’re about to stop for a quick bite of bread and to let Arrow rest when Zyren places a gloved hand over his brow and squints into the distance again. This time, he lets out a low growl.

I turn and follow his gaze to see that the riders are still visible, though now they’ve drawn closer. I can make out a few details, namely that they all wear black tunics with some sort of red emblem on the front I can’t decipher at this distance.

“We need to keep moving,” Zyren says, swinging into the saddle behind me again.

I’m prevented from asking questions when he urges Arrow into a canter, the wind pulling any words from my mouth. Zyren guides us into the trees rather than continuing down the straighter path along the valley floor. We continue for a quarter hour, crossing out of the valley and into the next, where we climb a steep path up the neighboring mountain.

At the apex of the path, where we can see down into the valley we’d just traveled from, as well as down into valley ahead, Zyren steers Arrow around a large boulder and then dismounts. “Stay here.”

He jogs the way we’d just come, peering back down the path. After several moments, he comes running back around the corner and leaps up behind me. He kicks Arrow into a gallop, flying down the path ahead at breakneck speed.

When we reach the floor of the next valley, he opens her up even more, aiming for the cliffs on the opposite side. The wind rips at my eyes and forces its way into my lungs, and my heart pounds in my chest as loudly as Arrow’s hoofbeats on the stone. I can’t imagine what has Zyren so shaken, and that makes me very frightened indeed.

Zyren guides us straight for the cliffs. It looks as if we’re going to gallop right into the side of them. But at the last moment, I see a small cave opening and Zyren urges Arrow into it, barely slowing. The entrance is just tall enough for us to pass beneath, but the ceiling of the cave quickly descends to a much shorter tunnel. Zyren reins in Arrow and dismounts, pulling me with him. We stride to the back of the cave, about twenty feet, until we can’t go any farther.

“Zyren, what is happening?” I ask, voice shaking.

Zyren doesn’t respond but instead claps a hand over my mouth. His magic flares around us and shadows roil outward from where we stand against the rear wall. The dim light within grows even darker, blocking out the sunlight that streams in from the entrance until I can barely see it. I stand there, Zyren’s arms wrapped around me, hand over my mouth. My heart races and I’m sure he can feel it against his arms where he’s pressing me into him.

A moment later, I hear several sets of hoofbeats coming up fast. They come to a stop, and then they begin to travel along the cliffside toward us. One of the riders approaches the outside of the cave, and I hear a thump as the rider dismounts and lands in the dirt. Then, a low hiss as a blade is drawn from its sheath. Footsteps move toward us, the rider’s boots scuffing on the rocky cave floor.

Zyren’s shadows are masking us visibly, but if one of us coughs or Arrow stomps her foot, it’s all over. Even my heart seems loud enough to give us away. I don’t dare draw breath as the rider’s footsteps draw closer and closer. I feel the most subtle of shifts in Zyren’s right arm as he slides it down across my chest and around to touch the hilt of his sword.

And then the rider whirls and strides for the entrance of the cave, footsteps retreating. The hoofbeats of his horse join him as they continue down the cliffside. For the next few minutes, we listen as the riders search the other caves along the cliffs. Then voices calling, though I can’t make out the words, and the sound of many horses galloping away.

Zyren waits another ten minutes before moving. When he finally slides his hand from my mouth and steps away from me, he says softly, “We will stay here a while. Do not venture near the entrance.”

“Who were those people?” I ask. My heart has finally returned to a normal rhythm, but my muscles are taut with anxiety.

Zyren walks over to a small boulder a few feet away and sits down, running a hand over his face. “There are many great houses of Valaron. Your family, House Otreyas, and the king’s family, House Lyonian, have always been the ruling houses because of the blood magic wrought all those centuries ago to protect the rest of Aureon from the nightmares. But there are other houses that wish to rule, that seek the crown above all else. The worst of them—because they are the most powerful—is House Septarus.”

I shiver. “And those riders were from House Septarus?”

“Yes—they bore the house sigil of a red serpent on black.” He takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “The fact that they are hunting us poses a serious threat to reaching Selaye in time.”

“But how did they know it was us?” I ask. “Maybe they just thought…” I realize how naïve it sounds before I even finish my sentence.

“They must have somehow learned of your arrival,” Zyren says with a low growl. “I don’t know how. Unless…”

“Unless what?”

“The Septarus have long desired not only to rule Valaron, but to do the very thing we are trying to prevent—to allow our realm to merge with Aureon, releasing the nightmares to roam the rest of the world. The nightmares from two nights past…”

“You think they’re working as spies?”

“It’s one very possible explanation.” Zyren stands and begins pacing back and forth across the cave.

“So, now we have to get to Selaye with both the nightmares and House Septarus hunting us,” I say softly.

“There are not many paths through the mountains between here and Selaye. It’s going to be very difficult to pass them undetected.”

A numb realization crawls like ice through my veins. “You think they mean to kill me.”

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