The House of Gaian

Chapter 24

Selena shifted restlessly, tangling the covers as the dream tangled her mind.

The ground trembled. Not a disturbance that rose up from the land, but a force upon it. Rhythmic. Steady. Something that would be familiar if it weren't so strong.

Rhythmic. Steady.

One-two. One-two.

She recognized it now. Thousands of feet marching, striking the ground at the same time, making it tremble.

Turning around, she saw the small waterfall and pool that was in one of the gardens at the school where the Grandmothers taught young witches. Now a small willow tree grew beside it. As she watched the play of sunlight and shadow on the leaves, she noticed a pink tinge to the water falling over stone. A pink tinge that deepened into bright red. The water thickened, splashing the willow's leaves. Staining them red. Clots plopped on stone, slithered to the edge and clung there before falling into the pool that looked so dark it was almost black, hiding the things she sensed floating just beneath the surface.

And the ground trembled.

Stumbling out of bed, Selena half fell across the other narrow bed in the room, and gave Gwynith a hard shake.

"What?" Gwynith mumbled.

"Get up," Selena said. She held a finger near the bedside candle. Fire leaped to the wick. Satisfied, she pulled off her nightgown, rolled it into a ball, then stuffed it into her saddlebags. Cursing softly, she pulled it out again to reach the clean underclothes.

After pulling on her underclothes, she paused long enough to give Gwynith another hard shake. "Get up. Now."

Gwynith raised her head off the pillow. "Still dark," she complained.

"Fine. Then I'll ride out without you. You can catch up when you can."

That roused Gwynith enough to prop herself on one elbow. "What's wrong?"

"I had a dream." Out loud, it sounded foolish, but being thought foolish wasn't going to stop her from packing, rousing the inn's landlord to provide whatever food could be hastily assembled, and riding out now.

"What kind of dream?"

Selena paused, then finished pulling her tunic over her head. "A bloody one."

Gwynith shot out of bed. "I'll tell the men we're leaving." She was out the door and pounding on the door across the hall before Selena had time to reply.

A murmured conversation. The other door closing with more haste than courtesy, loud enough to wake the rest of the inn's guests.

As Gwynith rushed back into their room to start her own frenzy of dressing and packing, Selena continued stuffing her belongings into the saddlebags.

Another day of hard riding to reach the village where Skelly, the storyteller, lived. How long to reach Willowsbrook after that? Skelly would know. Wasn't he kin to the Willowsbrook witches? Surely he'd know the fastest way from his village to that Old Place.

So. Two days at the least. She couldn't do it in less time. Fae horses had endurance far beyond ordinary horses, but even Mistrunner was wearing down after so many days of hard riding. Reaching Skelly's village was as much as she could do today.

She closed her eyes and thought of the willow tree in her dream, stained with blood.

Two days.

Would she get to Willowsbrook in time—or get there too late?