“Then they have disappeared?”
“So it would seem. I suppose there must be some sort of enchantment on them.”
She shrugged. “I don’t think Granny Winters would play us such a trick if we still needed the shoes.”
“Then,” he said, “perhaps they disappear when they are no longer needed.”
Sorcha handed him a bit of bread and a slice of hard cheese. “What is left in your bag?”
“The spurs, the vole, and the stoppered vessel.”
Her brows pulled together in thought as they ate their humble breakfast. Duncan hadn’t any idea what the items could possibly be used for. But one thing felt quite certain: they would be useful,essentialeven. And he meant to guard the bag closely.
Their morning meal completed and the sun fully above the horizon, they began their journey, walking as they had the day before, crossing miles, over hills, around rivers, through meadows.
Whenever they walked across the broad, open areas where flowers and wild grass grew, she took hold of his hand. He knew she was worrying that the will-o’-the-wisp would return and she would be unable to resist thesiren call to wander. That she took comfort and strength in his touch was a fine thing indeed. After the third such meadow, she kept her hand in his, walking along quite as if it was the most natural thing in all the world. Truth be told, it felt natural.
The day was waxing long, though not entirely over. Sorcha said she felt certain they were going in the right direction, but the trek was taking longer than expected. Though she didn’t say as much, he suspected she felt a bit guilty for having added to the length of their journey by running after the will-o’-the-wisp. But Granny had sent them with precisely the object needed to break that spell, which meant she had anticipated the need. And if their task was doomed to fail from the beginning, she would not have sent them. Duncan took great reassurance in that.
It didn’t mean the outcome was guaranteed. But it meant there was a chance.
The road they were on grew more defined and easier to see. Trees grew on either side, and mountains loomed in the distance, but the path was clear.
Until it unexpectedly broke in two.
Sorcha kept back, clinging tightly to his hand and eyeing the area. “Crossroads are dangerous things,” she said.
She had warned him about that before.
“Do you know which way we are meant to go?”
She shook her head. “Not entirely.” She continued eyeing the area, but she didn’t seem ready to run or abandon their mission. Hers was not an aura of fear but of vigilance.
“There must be some clue,” he suggested. “Surely something will tell us which road to take.”
She nodded and peeked down one road, then took a few steps, but not many, in that direction. He did the same down the other.
Just at the edge of the road, tucked among the trees, was a horse. It was calm and docile, dipping its head to take a mouthful of grass before looking around quite as if it hadn’t a care in all the world. This was clearly not a wild horse, one inclined to bolt and jump at the slightest thing. It likely belonged to someone. And it likely could be ridden.
Ridden.
Granny Winter had placed spurs in his bag. She would not have done so if they weren’t meant to be used. Being quite careful to not spook the horse, he removed the spurs from the bag and pulled them onto his boots, strapping them in place.
“I see a large outcropping of rock down the other road,” Sorcha said, still at a distance. “I remember that was on the map of the road to Carrifran.”
“How far from Carrifran?” He kept his eye on the horse as the sound of Sorcha’s footsteps grew louder.
“A half-day’s journey, likely.” She was at his side. “Where did the horse come from, do you suppose?”
“I’m not certain.”
“Granny did include spurs,” she said. “That cannot be mere coincidence.” Clever as she was, Sorcha had pieced together that bit of the puzzle almost instantly.
“I can only assume we are meant to ride it. A horse would get us to our destination more quickly.”
She still looked uncertain. “Finding the horse at a crossroads does not feel like asafediscovery. The animal may very well be something other than it seems.”
“Is there a creature belonging to that realm who appears in the form of a horse?”