She gaped at Merriweather, unable to speak, still trying to comprehend what was happening.
“I suppose the word drink was a bit of an understatement. Don’t worry, the burning will fade soon.”
Sure enough, the live ember in her stomach rapidly changed to a frozen pool. It shot off through her veins like shards of ice, racing to her fingers, and all the way down to the tips of her toes. It forced her spine rigid, and left her heart exploding in her chest.
“Don’t forget to breathe, dear. That will help it pass sooner.”
Vivienne took great heaves of air, working her lungs by sheer force of will. Her heart began to slow. The tingling settled deep into her limbs, becoming somehow a part of her, becoming bearable. Her lashes fluttered and her vision refocused, eyes coming to rest on Fae Merriweather.
The older woman was aglow with whirling golden light.
The sparkles gathered around the Dame like she was a kind of lodestone for the light. They played along her fingers and danced around her head, and, as Vivienne watched, amazed, a shining bundle formed something very like a bird, which flew to Merriweather’s shoulder and spoke softly in her ear.
“I believe we’re going to reach Bianca any moment now. Do you have a handle on yourself, child?” The Dame’s brows were drawn together in concern.
“I’m not sure I do, actually.”
“Oh, good. Complete sentences are far better than I expected from you. You’ll be fine, dear, just try not to get too distracted. Now, one other essential thing. Things may seem strange to you for a while. It’s not unheard of to lose track of time. It is imperative that you make it to the keep before Brannon and his men, so I’m giving you another gift.” Merriweather plucked one deep red rose from her nosegay and blew gently on its petals. “Here.” She handed the bloom to Vivi. “Think of this as a warning signal. You must be at the keep before the last petal falls.”
“How long do I have?”
Merriweather gave her a sardonic look. “It’s magic, dear girl, not science. I haven’t the faintest idea how long you’ve got. Just keep an eye on the rose, all right?”
The carriage came to a halt, and Vivienne heard a familiar whicker outside. Emerging from the cramped interior, she spied Bianca giving gentle pats to Darling Idiot. Behind her, studiously looking the other way, was the young huntsman. Quickly she loaded her provisions and equipment on the horse, and then kissed Bianca.
“I wish you were coming with me.”
“I don’t think I’d be much help in the mountains.” Bianca looked wistful. “Maybe someday I can come visit you in Albion.”
“You’ll always be welcome.”
They threw their arms around each other, and then Vivienne tore away and vaulted into the saddle. She carefully tied the rose Merriweather had given her to the pommel.
“Any last words of advice?”
“Do try not to die, dear. Your father would be very upset with me.”
“I’ll do my best.” She spurred Idiot into a ground-eating stride and called back over her shoulder, “I’m not making any promises, though!”
Chapter Thirty
Vivienne had been climbing in the mountains for the better part of an hour. Dame Merriweather’s gift had made her stronger, but her mount still needed to be treated very kindly if they were going to travel straight through to the keep. Vivienne was walking as much as riding, occasionally even going so far as to carry the saddle bags. The first time she’d unloaded them onto her shoulder, Darling Idiot had given an odd whinney.
“I’m sorry, did you want to carry them?” The snort and furious head shake looked like a definite negative response to Vivi. “Then kindly keep your comments to yourself.”
As Vivi climbed she was constantly distracted by her new awareness of the world. It wasn’t that things were so very different, just that previously she’d had to work to notice the small details, and now they seemed to call out to her. Her woodscraft had always been slight, but now clues she once would have overlooked told her whole stories about who had passed this way before her. It had been obvious to her when she picked up the trail of Brannon’s men. Not only was the passing of so many men on horseback easily spotted, but tiny trails of the guiding lights swirled in the hoof prints left by one of the horses. Given the depth of the print, Vivi was almost sure that this was Marlplot’s mount. She wondered why her destiny was dancing along in his tracks.
It had been over a day since she’d left Bianca and the Dame behind. The rose, which Vivienne checked obsessively, showed no signs of wilting. Merriweather had told her true; she felt no real fatigue, although she’d had to stop and massage her legs several times. The muscles, unused to this type of continuous movement, were sore and cramping. After one such stop, where she’d vented her feelings using every word every governess had ever told her was inappropriate, Idiot came and stood before her, bumping Vivi gently with her side.
“You want me to ride?”
The dark brown eyes gazed at her.
“Aren’t you tired?”
A contemptuous snort, followed by a firm but affectionate head bump.
“No need to be rude. Fine, have it your way. But stop when you want me to walk.”
From that point on, Darling Idiot set their pace, stopping occasionally to let Vivienne make her way on foot, or even more infrequently for a few mouthfuls of oats out of the feed sack. Vivi was walking beside her head when the oddness of it all finally struck her.
“You realize it’s mad that we’re traveling this way, don’t you?”
One side-long glance, and a small whuff of air.
“I mean, it’s mad that I’m even talking to you, let alone that I think you’re answering me.”
Idiot’s whinney rang through the forest, and she did a little prancing step, side to side, tossing her head.
“So glad you’re amused.”
Just then Idiot pulled up sharply and rolled her eyes. Whirling gold sparks emerged from the surrounding bushes, moments before Vivienne spied the first dark muzzle. Grey Tip and his pack bounded out of the brush, and though Vivienne was delighted, Idiot shied a few steps away.
“Oh, quit that. We’re all on the same side.” Vivi raised an eyebrow at her horse. “Unless you really are an idiot.”
Large, equine teeth were bared in her direction.
“That’s what I thought.”
The pack sat around, tongues lolling out in amusement.
“No need to look so superior; I know you startled her on purpose.”
Several wolves let out an apologetic whine, but, if anything, Grey Tip’s grin got bigger. Then he let out a yip and jumped up to place his paws on Vivi’s shoulders.
This time she was prepared. She grabbed his ruff, and met his golden eyes directly.
“Can you help me get to Fain?”
The eyes blinked once, slowly, and then the great long tongue throughly licked her face.
“I’m going to take that as a yes.”
Grey Tip sprang down and let out a full-throated howl. The entire pack took up the cry, and they moved as one, running off into the forest. Before she could think, Vivienne was in the saddle, galloping after them.
Behind her, in the snow, lay a blood red petal.
The rose had finally begun to wilt.
The wolves traveled at a different pace than a horse. Darling Idiot did her best, but the great loping strides were hard for her to match. To make matters worse, the wolves led them away from the easy footing of the road to the forest floor. Vivienne became seriously concerned that Idiot was going to trip or turn her ankle in an unseen hole. Vivi ran on her own as much as she could, but her legs couldn’t match the pace the wolves set, not without holding onto the stirrup, letting Idiot’s momentum make each stride count for more.
Running at Idiot’s side, Vivienne had a clear view of the rose. The outer petals were curled and blackening, and one was missing completely. She couldn’t stop her frequent panicked glances at the rose, but she also knew
she could do nothing to stop it from wilting. Finally she stopped looking, and just ran faster.
After more than half an hour of a grueling uphill run, they broke free of the treeline. The ridge of the mountain’s foothill ran before them, and one by one the wolves let out a baying howl before dashing across the open ground, large paws crunching along in the snow’s crust. The winds were harsh above the trees, but they kept the ground swept almost clear. Idiot tossed her head and thundered behind them, apparently happy to have clear running before her.
They cut through a deep cleft in the mountain and exited on the far side. Vivenne saw the road again and realized they had cut off a massive loop that ran around the base of the mountain. She wondered where the mounted troop was. Ahead, or behind?
The moon rose high as they ran. Vivienne spared a glance down the mountainside, but couldn’t spot the large contingent of men. She doubted she and her companions would be visible in turn, even should the soldiers think to look up. What would they think, she wondered, if they saw a lone horse cantering along behind a wolf pack? They’d never spot her, hidden as she was in Idiot’s shadow.
It was exhilarating, taking flying leaps along the ridge, yanked forward by Darling Idiot’s massive bulk. Vivienne was almost sorry when the wolves cut down the mountainside, heading back under the canopy of trees that blocked out the moonlight and made footing unsure. Grey Tip moved easily over the rough terrain, but slowed his pace, almost as though he were concerned for Idiot’s footing as well.
Stray moonbeams filtered down to the forest floor, highlighting a rock formation ahead. The giant boulders looked like they had been piled purposefully in an enormous cairn, and Vivi wondered how they’d come to be here at the foot of the mountain. The golden sparkles danced wildly in the moonlight, spinning and circling the massive rocks. As they neared, Vivienne realized she was seeing a fissure in the rock, wide, but low to the ground, so that even a wolf would have to crouch to enter.
Unfortunately, she realized they’d also found the king’s squadron.
They were camped in the lee of the boulders, on the far side from where Vivi and the wolves had appr oached. Their firelight cast weird shadows around the edges of the piled rocks, and the low murmur of two hundred masculine voices echoed against the mountains. Above the softer sounds of the common soldiers, Brannon’s harsh voice stood out. He was taunting John Marlplot.
“Do you think they’ll stand and fight, boy? Or do you think they’ll run like the rats they are?”
Vivi gritted her teeth and tuned him out. There was nothing she could do to help Marlplot now. When she returned her attention to Grey Tip, she found that he had snuck over to stand beside the crevice, and was looking pointedly back into the brush where Vivienne was partially hidden. Her heart thudded in her chest. The men were on the far side, true, but they must have sentries. How could she make it without alerting Brannon to her presence?
One by one the pack snuck across the open ground to the fissure in the rock, and wiggled in. Vivenne watched the way they moved, low to the ground, finding depressions and shadows that she hadn’t seen. She was still trying to work up the courage to try when Grey Tip lost patience and came slinking back. He cocked his head at her, clearly irritated.
“I’ll never make it without being spotted.” Vivi spoke under her breath, knowing the wolf’s superior ears would hear her. “Besides, Idiot won’t ever fit through there.”
The pack leader looked at Darling Idiot, who, in turn, snorted quietly, and then headbutted Vivienne forward before prancing back a few steps.
“You’re staying here?” Vivi was stricken at the thought of leaving her friend behind.
The horse moved forward again and nuzzled Vivienne’s shoulder, whuffing softly into her neck. She threw her arms around the soft, silky neck and squeezed hard.
“Go back to Merriweather, Darling. I’m sure she’ll know what to do.”
Darling Idiot shook gently and extracted herself from the embrace. She stood still while Vivienne retrieved her pack and the rose from the pommel, then slipped back into the trees and disappeared among the shadows.
Vivienne turned back to Grey Tip, wiping a few tears from her cheek. “I still don’t want to go in there.”
The large canine pawed at the dirt at her feet. There lay two more rose petals, looking black in the moonlight. Grey Tip whuffed at the petals and then looked pointedly at the opening.
“Fine, but remember, I’m doing this under protest.”
Vivienne slung her pack along her back and then got down on her hands and knees, crawling slowly forward. When she was out of the brush line, she dropped even further, until her belly hugged the cold ground and she was pulling herself forward by her elbows. Grey Tip wiggled along just in front of her, showing her the path the other wolves had taken to cross the open ground.
On the far side of the boulders, she could hear the soldiers talking around their campfires. One or two of them were seated far enough around the edge on her left that if they turned their heads, they would be looking right at her. Her nerves were so tightly wound, it was hard to crawl slowly and steadily.
Torchlight came around the right of the rocks. Vivienne froze in panic. A sentry was patrolling the far side of the cairn, and in moments he would be close enough to spot her.
Grey Tip moved faster, scrabbling silently for the cleft in the rocks. Vivi tried to keep up, but she was still within view of the other men, and feared to move too fast. At last the curve of the boulders hid her from their line of sight. Getting to her feet, she threw herself the last few feet to the crevice and squirmed in behind Grey Tip, as far as she could.
Torchlight rimmed the edge of the opening, and Vivienne held her breath, waiting. No cry sounded, and after what seemed an eternity the light faded away again.
Vivienne sighed in relief, but on the heels of that relief came trepidation. Now she had to crawl after the pack.
She could feel the weight of the hillside above her, held up by the rocks she was scraping with the top of her head. Beneath her hands, the grit of small stones and cave dust shifted and ground into her palms. It was pitch black inside the cave, and for a moment Vivi was worried she might become lost, but it soon became clear that there was only the one narrow, twisting hole to follow. Ahead of her she could hear the wolves scrambling with their paws on the stone, and behind her was Grey Tip, nudging her with his nose whenever she paused. It was claustrophobic, and stuffy, and Vivienne came to the immediate conclusion that she didn’t care for it, not one little bit.
“Ouch!” Vivi’s forehead had collided with a large rock. Running her hands over the walls and the space in front of her, it seemed as though the cave ended. She was perplexed. Where had the wolves gone?
Behind her, Grey Tip whined. He nosed around her and batted his large paw against the earth, loud enough for her to hear. Vivienne felt down along the floor of the tunnel, and sure enough, there was a small hole, just large enough for her to squeeze through.
“I can’t.” Vivi’s voice sounded scared, even to herself. “What if I get stuck?”
The wolf gave a little coughing bark, and once more batted the ground.
“Easy for you to say. You know what’s down there.” Her words were defiant, but Vivi took comfort. It couldn’t be that bad if Grey Tip was laughing at her.
She felt around the small opening with both hands. The air beyond seemed cool to her, as though the space on the other side was well ventilated. There were no jagged edges to the hole, and she couldn’t feel a continuing floor on the other side, so with one last sigh she swung her feet into the opening and carefully lowered herself through.
A slight drop, and she was on the ground on the other side, apparently outside once more. A soft ambient light was shining on the cliff face in front of her, out of which Grey Tip was wiggling free. Around her on the ground was the pack, spread in a loose semi-circle, watching the softly swaying grasses that rose around them.
It was the grass that she noti
ced first. Then the temperature: cool, but not the chill of winter. When she cast around, trying to place where they were, she finally noticed the mists, curling among the grasses, floating in the air, shimmering with an almost tangible beauty in the silvery light. It was as though the very air glowed. Certainly, the light wasn’t coming from the sky; above her hung no moon, and only a few distant stars.
“Do I even want to know what just happened? Where are we? How is this going to get me to Fain?”
The whole pack began yipping with laughter, springing in the air, leaping in delight over her confusion. Then they dashed out into the field, dropping to their haunches just at the edge of visibility, barking impatiently as the mist curled around their tails.
“This is crazy.” She began jogging after them, and the wolves set out once more. “I can’t even begin to think of how to blame it on Max.” Then she picked up the pace, trying to close the distance between herself and her escort. More petals fluttered free in the wind and Vivi gritted her teeth. Her time was running out.
Chapter Thirty-One
They ran through the cool twilight air. The long field grasses gave way to the springy heather of moors, which in turn became sandy dunes, and eventually, a long stretch of beach. Strange lights flickered in the distance, and out of the corner of her eye Vivienne saw odd creatures only half-there. When she turned her head to get a better look there was nothing but swaying grass, and a weird, wild laughter echoing around her.
More than once she tried to catch a glimpse of something she thought she’d seen, only to discover when she looked back that the wolves had disappeared. The first time it happened she panicked. The mists had swirled in, covering the ground at her feet and the land around her, and when she called to Grey Tip his bark seemed to come back at her from all directions at once. The tiny, swirling, guiding lights moved in just one direction, though, and when Vivi took a few hesitant steps after them she broke free from the fog, discovering that she had been in the center of the wolf pack all along. After that, every time she lost sight of the wolves she just followed the sparkles, and soon enough whatever visual trickery was afoot would fade away.
Once Upon a Romance 02 - As The Last Petal Falls Page 24