When Galen woke Asher, the sun had already risen on the third day. He felt rejuvenated. The pain in his foot was negligible, and his muscles were still sore, but he felt almost normal.
The horses seemed to be following Galen’s mustang. They had remained around the grove overnight, and Asher was glad to see his mule again. Packed and mounted, he and Galen rode for Southwind as swiftly as they could manage, through the hills and back into plains country.
Galen’s lack of rest didn’t show, and the boy hung with him. He focused on their destination, on returning home to Finn. They didn’t stop until they were interrupted by a massive screech in the sky above them.
“Condor,” Asher said absently. “Hunting.”
Galen nodded as their train of horses slowed and they gazed up at the great bird.
“We’re only two,” Asher said. “We can’t defend against it.” He spoke matter-of-factly, secure in his knowledge and unafraid.
“Yes,” Galen said. “But remember, she’s looking you in the eye. And she can see the blood on your horn. A condor wants no part of a dragon-killer.”
Asher said nothing, but he held on to the severed horn like a torch lighting the rest of the way home.
★
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Southwind Knights
FantasyAsher's best friend has been poisoned. He has three days to live. The only cure: a unicorn horn. The only place to find one: Dragoncliff Cove, where none dare go. ***Book #1 in a series of fantasy novellas*** "In an age when people lived off th...
