Romeria
We’ve moved at a relentless pace all morning, having abandoned camp minutes after Zander left our wagon. There was nothing to do but stay buried within the animal pelts, bracing against the bumpy road, my mind consumed with deciphering Ianca’s ramblings until Gesine coaxed me out of my dark thoughts. From there, I spent hours attempting to create a simple ball of water in my palm using my caster affinity to Aoife.
I couldn’t manage so much as a drop.
By the time we stop for a break at midday, I am anxious to escape the confines of this wagon. I need back on a horse, ideally without a companion. Something I never thought I’d wish for.
The mountain range in the distance temporarily distracts me from my mission, the expanse of jagged, white-tipped peaks both mesmerizing and daunting as they ascend into a thick sheet of gray cloud. My feet stall in the middle of the bustle as I admire the view.
“Are you trying to get run over?” Abarrane steers her horse around me. “It’s like you have never seen mountains before.”
“I haven’t.” It’s my first time seeing anything like this landscape in either world. But I’ll have plenty of time to stare at them in the coming days and weeks.
“Eventually, you will wish you never laid eyes upon them.” With that stark warning, she leads her horse away in a trot.
“Can’t wait.” I continue on my course, spotting Zander. He’s where I hoped he’d be, and I march toward him now, my heart skipping beats with anticipation of being near him again.
He’s mid conversation with Elisaf, but his gaze snags on me, and he can’t seem to peel away as I get closer, the smile he’s wearing secretive. “You seem intent on a specific purpose.”
“I am.” Two, actually, beyond seeing Zander’s face again.
“Your Highness.” Elisaf bows dramatically.
“My lord,” I mock, earning his laughter as he walks away.
A curious frown touches Zander’s brow as he watches his friend’s retreating back. “What is that about?”
“An inside joke.” That I don’t want to waste my time explaining when I have more important things to discuss. “I have a theory about what Ianca said.”
His eyes flip to the wagon, its door propped open. Gesine stands on the step, accepting bread and cheese from Eden. “That you came up with on your own or with aid?”
“On my own. Gesine was too busy trying to teach me how to form balls of water.”
“And how did that go—”
“Terrible.” I glance around to make sure we’re alone. “Ianca said something about Malachi finding his skin. I couldn’t make sense of it before, but then I thought about what Gesine told me, about how the fates can only take on physical forms within the boundaries of the sanctum’s pillars. I think Malachi has plans to assume Elijah’s body. Don’t ask me how, but if he could do this to me, I’m sure he can figure out a way. Then he becomes king, and Sofie is his queen, whether she likes it or not.” Ianca alluded to Sofie having no idea of Malachi’s plans and no choice in accepting it.
How will Sofie react once she realizes Malachi never intends to truly release Elijah?
“That is … a theory,” Zander says slowly. “But for now, let us focus on fact. And the fact is, you still have much to learn.”
“You’re right, I do.” Which brings me to my second reason for marching over here. “I’m going to take this one.” I stroke the nearby horse’s flank. It’s a sleek, chocolate-colored beast, one from Freywich, and it’s already wearing a saddle.
“What do you mean, ‘take it’?”
“I mean ride it.”
“With whom?”
“Myself.”
He opens his mouth—
“Remember how you said I needed to learn? That day, when we were going to the crown hunt?” When you slipped your hands beneath my cloak to cop a feel?
The corner of Zander’s mouth curves. “I seem to recall something about that, yes. But we are moving at a brisk pace to reach Norcaster before that weather meets us. Now is probably not a good time for basic riding instruction.”
“I think now is the perfect time.” I throw my hands out toward the miles of flat ground, with no living soul in sight beyond our company. “There might not be a better time, based on what Abarrane said of the mountains.”