“Whoa, that never happened before,” he’d said with a whoop of pure joy as the rabbit twisted in mid-air from the phlegm-strike and changed direction. He glanced my way for approval and admiration.
My laughter was held inside, but only just. Elizabeth’s anger was directed at the back of my neck because of me using my magic for that, but I refused to turn and face it. That feeling had nothing to do with her lacking any magic powers. However, the next time he spat, I’d just let it strike his horse or the ground. I would protect myself from him, but barely, and hopefully undetected by Kendra. If a stiff breeze came up, could anyone be held responsible if one of Tater’s wads of spit reached someone riding behind me? I didn’t think so.
Springer walked alongside me most of the time. Now and then he trotted beside Kendra, but never Tater. Smart dog.
As predicted by Tater, we didn’t catch up with Lord Kent. We did find a place where it appeared two people had stayed the night, but we didn’t take the time to investigate. It was one of those things that didn’t cause major concern. They had either stayed there or not. We hadn’t caught up with them, so it didn’t matter. If they were intent on reaching Mercia first, there seemed little we could do about their actions.
Of course, that line of thinking didn’t include the turn to our right onto the secondary trail we followed in our attempt to reach Mercia first. I looked at the hills and mountains and picked out a possible route the trail might follow between two distant peaks. The flash of sunlight on the water in the valley far below drew my eyes, probably a river that cut between the steep sides.
Tater pointed ahead. “We have a couple of cold nights coming. Miserable, if it rains and we get wet. Last chance to turn back.”
Elizabeth spoke harshly, “Do you think we’re weak and pampered?”
“Yes.”
That was the wrong answer, and my shoulders hunched to protect my head in case she responded by throwing something his way. Her aim was never very good. Instead, she laughed long and hard. She said, “You have every right to think so. We may surprise you.”
“Not likely,” Tater muttered.
She laughed again, but to my ears, it didn’t sound like she enjoyed his second observation as much as the first. Kendra remained quiet, a hint to me. Beside us stood more oak, maple, and alder trees which later gave way to pine, cedar, and fir as we climbed. The air smelled fresher and colder.
We rested our horses several times. My Alexis hadn’t tired once. The horses purchased from the inn were rugged, smaller, and were older than I’d thought in the darkness of the stable. They tired easily, and their gait was noticeably slower. The innkeeper was surely laughing this morning. Maybe we would stop and visit him on the return trip. Maybe sell him his horses back—for more than we paid.
A flash of movement drew my attention. Huge black wings beat slowly as a dragon flew at treetop level. No, it was a wyvern, of course. I remembered the difference, and that true dragons no longer exist. From a distance, it was hard to count the legs or determine the size. However, as it turned its side to us, I noted the serpentine appearance, the elongated neck and the way the body was supported between the wings.
Slimmer, that was the word I’d searched for. Pictures of “real” dragons in books depicted them as heavier, stouter. Muscular, came to mind. The creature I’d watched disappear into the trees on the side of the mountain appeared more like a snake with wings.
The wyvern appeared again and rose higher into the sky, twisting and turning. It held something in its mouth. As it flew, it came nearer to us. Its route would pass right in front of the trail we followed.
It caught sight of us and started turning away to continue its journey, then looked back a second time, right at us. A small deer was clenched in its mouth, yet it tried to roar, as if in anger or fury. What emerged was a muffled cry. But it hated us. It turned and headed right for us.
Alexis reared, ready to kick the wyvern with her hooves. A packhorse broke free and headed for the nearest trees. Kendra and Elizabeth dismounted before they were thrown off. Tater spurred his horse after the packhorse, but I couldn’t tell if he was running away or chasing it. Springer disappeared and didn’t bark once. The dog impressed me more and more.
I remained in my saddle for some ungodly reason. Perhaps fear. Certainly not bravery. The wyvern dipped lower and flew directly at us, but as I watched its eyes, it was not looking at me. It was looking behind me—at Kendra or Elizabeth.
I wore my sword but carried a small knife in my right hand—as if either would do any good fighting a beast that weighed as much as all seven of our horses, and the four riders combined. It was as long as the hallway outside Elizabeth’s apartment. I sat on the horse and waited, my little knife in hand, my heart pounding.
It flew over us so low we saw the fear in the deer’s eyes. But the wyvern never changed its focus. It watched something behind me . . . and it growled deep in its chest, a warning it seemed, then it was past and flying away. It rose quickly and didn’t turn to examine us further.
Both Kendra and Elizabeth were trying to calm their horses. The packhorse bucked and tried to break the tether. I gave Alexis a few reassuring pats on her neck because she had stood solid in the face of fear.
Elizabeth tugged the reins until she had a measure of control and said, “May the trinity of high-gods show mercy. I’ve never been so scared.”
I leaped off my horse, my sanity returning. I looked to see what could be done to help and noticed Kendra already standing on the ground with her index and middle finger held together beside her leg, the other fingers curled. She pointed at her foot and glowered intently at me. She wanted to talk in private. From her expression, she wanted to talk now.
“What can I do?” My question was for both.
Elizabeth seemed to have things under control with her horse. Kendra released her horse’s reins as if it had pulled them loose. Freed, it bolted, bucked a few times, and ran down the slope. Kendra responded as if it had been an accident.
“I’ll get it for you,” My feet were already moving to mounting Alexis. Kendra reached her arm up for me to grasp as Alexis walked past her. In automatic reflex, I pulled her up behind me.
She said as she wrapped her arms around my waist, “It might take two of us.”
My mind was still stunned at the appearance of the wyvern, only the second sighting in my life, yet I understood that with the private-talk signal, Kendra had purposely released her horse. All that meant she wanted to speak to me right now. I gave my horse my heels and charged after hers.
We caught up with it quickly enough. The horse had found a patch of tall grass and was eating its fill. Kendra slipped off Alexis’s rump and retrieved the reins and mounted her horse. She pulled up beside me. “That . . . that creature back there was looking right at me.”
She’d noticed the same thing as me. “Maybe it was looking at Elizabeth.”
“No. It was me!”
Her ashen face and flat tone revealed she believed what she said. It scared her. While compassion was not my forte, I said, “You can’t tell from an animal that big. It surprised all of us. We were all terrified. The only thing I could do was pull my knife out and get ready to battle it.”