The remaining wolf disappeared, and a girl, perhaps even younger than I, stood in its place. She bore a striking resemblance to the man in both features and stature.
Beside her, the bear took the form of a stocky woman with a copper-ish complexion. She looked positively livid.
“What is the meaning of this?!” she exclaimed.
The man ignored her. “Who are you?” he demanded to all of us.
“We are travelers,” Adrian answered. “And who are you?” he demanded with equal persistence.
The man directed his answer toward me rather than Adrian. “We are the Praetus.”
So we had made it. An enormous weight lifted from my shoulders, and I sank to the ground. The sharp stones cut into my knees, but I was too tired to care. Until then, I hadn’t realized just how broken I felt, how far I had pushed my body. Blood was still running down my neck. It had turned the collar of my shirt red, I noticed emotionlessly.
There were more words, but they were all a jumble. It didn’t matter anymore, anyway. We were all safe. We would be fine.
I barely noticed myself being hoisted onto a strange man’s back, being carried into the clouds. The mountain’s view of this unusual world would have been lovely, I suppose, if it hadn’t been too blurry for me to see it. I didn’t feel the crash of the waterfall on my back, the chill of water on my skin. I didn’t gaze into the cavernous entrance, nor did I admire the glowing crystals that lit our path.
But, somewhere near the end, I did hear the echoes of screaming, of pleading.
A stream of words broke through the confusion.
“He murdered Rakerys, I will not… allow it.”
“What should become of him?”
“He has the blood… of the enemy… You may do what you wish.”
The screaming grew louder, and I wanted to scream too, but I couldn’t.
Instead, I did what I always did when things became too much for me to bear – I lost consciousness.
Look For
Strongbourn
The Unsung Interlude to the Irisbourn Chronicles
Coming Summer 2015
Feral (The Irisbourn Chronicles Book 1) Page 27