Page 43 of Sky of Thorns

Gasping in pain, I roll on to my stomach. My heart pounds in my chest at the sound of paws sliding down the steep slope at my back. The odds of fighting a wolf single-handed without a weapon, injured, and with my magic depleted, are slim, but it is better than dying a coward. I spot a large rock and grapple for it. Flashbacks of the chimera come back to me. I can do this.

I’ve not come this far to die this way.

“You fool!” A sharp feminine voice reprimands. Turning around, my jaw drops as I view the female behind me. Her deep, curly auburn hair bounces wildly around her head as she purses her lips and crouches next to me.

“Where did you come fro–” I ask, dumbly. Wasn’t there a wolf here just a second ago that was about to bite my head off?

“I’ve been looking for you.” She grins wryly at me.

“Me?”

“Yeah.” She glances down at my bruised ankle and silently requests permission to investigate. At my nod, she gingerly prods it.

“Ouch!” Wincing, I pull my foot closer to my body. “Who are you?”

“Didn’t Nero tell you?” Her laughter echoes through the air like the gentle jingle of wind chimes. At the shake of my head, she continues on. “No matter, my name is Kela MacGregor. Let’s get you to the safe house before the storm breaks.” Her blue eyes twinkle with mischief as she sticks her hand forward with a wolfish grin.

I have found the rebels.

I glance between her proffered hand and the cloudless sky. Rays of light stream above the tree line. Storm? I look at the wolf shifter with inquisitive eyes. Once again, I am forced to trust a stranger. I only hope that Nero knew what he was doing sending me here.

“I’m Sybil. Sybil Vandeleur,” I hesitantly reply, taking her hand.

“Oh good. I was afraid I had found the wrong unicorn shifter running around the forest.” Kela grins at her humor. At my blank stare, she rolls her eyes at me.

“Well, you scared me shitless back there, Kela. Thanks for that!” I respond to her joke with a dose of sarcasm of my own as I clean my skirts from the snow. “I thought you were one of those lovely monsters roaming the woods. Back home in Bellevue–,”I pause as my voice cracks at the thought of my house. My forest. I clear my throat and continue, “There are wild beasts who will attack without a second thought if you’re caught alone.”

Kela laughs kindly, picks up my mother's satchel from the ground and hands it to me. Who knows if there’s anything left intact after the fall? She then slides an arm around my back to help me with my painful ankle. As I swing the bag over my shoulder. Lemon pops his head from the pocket he hid in.

“Well hello there, handsome,” she crones as we slowly make our way up the opposite slope. “Nero did not tell me you had such a lovely ramidreju. They are incredible creatures who seek out those in need. The cutest little guardians and protectors. I’ve only read about them in books, but my mother tells me my great-great-grandfather had one.”

“A ramidreju?” Laughter bubbles up my throat. “Lemon is just a simple ferret.”

“He’s more than just a simple ferret.” She pauses, glancing sideways at me.

“That’s impossible,” I scoff, glancing down at him. “If he was more than just a ferret, I would have sensed it.” Wouldn’t I? I’m beginning to realize there is more to my world than I ever imagined.

“Does he have an obsession with shiny gold and silver objects?” she asks.

“Well, yes. He does like shiny things.” I admit reluctantly. He always collects lost trinkets and hoards them in his nest. Absent-mindedly, I spin my family’s ring around my finger. How did he know to grab it all those weeks ago?

She reaches over and runs her hand along his back, his eyes close as he lets out a rumbling sound of contentment. “You’ve never noticed the subtle green sheen when the sunlight hits his fur? And how long exactly have you had Lemon?”

Glancing at him, I bite my bottom lip as I see the barely visible hint of green shadows in his white fur. I always thought it was a residue from his love of rolling in the grass. “I’ve had him for about twelve years.”

“The average ferret only lives six to ten years,” Kela states simply. The judgment I expect to hear isn’t there, and we continue walking. “It would make sense that he was drawn to you. It is said their fur has healing properties and everyone knows you unicorns know a thing or two about healing. Have you not noticed how his canine teeth protrude more like small tusks?”

As if to prove her correct, Lemon bears a grin and flicks his tongue up, licking his nose. My mind drifts to his peculiar moments of intelligence. Memories of how his and my intuition were the same, and how, despite my lack of understanding, he always seems to know me better than I know myself.

“How did you know?” I ask in awe. The dull throb begins in my left ankle, and I lift it up for relief, tenderly circling it.

“I pride myself on being a bit of a mythical creature expert. That and there isn’t a book you could keep away from me.” Her arm supporting me tightens as we crest over the ridge. A small house—more like a shack—is barely visible through the thick copse of trees ahead. “Ah, here we are. Let’s get you inside, cleaned up, and fed.”

***

Kela stands in front of a small fireplace, stirring a pot. The aroma of boiling potatoes, onions, garlic and bacon fills the air. The safe house comprises a single room, jam-packed with an assortment of odds and ends. As I glance around, my eyes settle on a small table by the bed, where a stack of books is piled high. It feels like a lifetime ago since I last had warm soup in the comfort of my home, surrounded by my books.

“How long have you been with the rebels?” I ask as Kela makes her way towards a large wooden crate next to me. Dozens of rolls of fabric, bottles of tinctures, and other assortments fill the container to the brim.

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