In the Shadow of the Goddess (Book 1 of The Fallen Gods Trilogy)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

 When they first started their ride, Jill had felt slightly nauseous as she watched the landscape zip past. The space between what lay before them and what lay behind folded in on itself, rushing by as if they moved through an undulating tunnel. The images blurred and stretched into each other until the eye couldn't follow them. One moment, she might be looking forward at a patch of trees half a football field's length away. Within a few gallops, it lay miles behind them. When they'd put blinders on the horses earlier, she hadn't understood the reason for it. Now, she did—if she tried to look right or left, her head spun and stomach churned. Only by looking straight ahead and not letting her eyes drift could she watch without wanting to vomit.

Every once in a while, she'd catch a glimpse of the red threads unfurling out behind them like the remains of a tickertape parade. Yet for the most part, Aden's wards blocked out the sight and she forced herself to settle. With time, her amazement at the folding spell faded. Now, she was just bored. How much longer would she be trapped on horseback and so close to Brexten?

Brexten and marriage. She poked at the thought as if it were a loose tooth she could wiggle with her tongue. The idea didn't sit well with her. Maybe because he seemed so unready to settle down. He enjoyed playing too much to commit to any woman.

Still, she couldn't miss the reverence in his voice when he spoke of Geniece. Whatever he felt for her wasn't casual or fleeting. There was feeling there, but something undefined—or perhaps, unresolved. Had she broken his heart and he'd never gotten over her? Or, were they to marry, but he'd been placed in the Maze before it could happen? Maybe they didn't even like each other but just shared a grudging mutual respect. Maybe I should quit thinking about it because it's irrelevant to me anyway.

She had no idea how long they'd ridden when Brexten let his horse slow to a plodding walk. The others had to follow suit and let their horses slow as well. Either that, or she and Brexten would be left behind as the other horses galloped past at their fantastic speed. Judging from the tightness of her calves and thighs plus the ache in her back, she guessed several hours had passed since Ferice.

"How are you feeling?" Brexten asked her over his shoulder.

"The usual—tired, sore, and filthy."

He nodded. "We need to rest soon. Not just us, but the horses too. They can't keep up this pace." He cast a look to Aden. "Unless you put a refreshment spell on the animals."

Aden looked as if the question didn't justify a response. "The horses will last."

"You seem very confident of that."

"I am," Aden said with a kind of smugness Jill could tell drove Brexten insane.

"And what about the spell simulating trails across Dolmar? Are they still active?" Bexten's tone was deceptively mild, but Jill knew it for that act that it was. With her arms around him, she felt the tension singing through Brexten.

Aden gave him a long look. His eyes flicked to Jill, then back to Brexten.

"I asked the question, my lord Shey'na'shen, not Jill."

"Magic calls to magic," Rafe said loudly. "Don't get in between them, Brexten."

What's that supposed to mean? Jill glanced to Rafe who rode slightly ahead before flicking a look to Aden. His eyes were on her, but his face was carefully blank. Whatever Rafe implied, Aden's silence indicated agreement. She frowned.

"I asked my lord Shey'na'shen a question. I'd like an answer," Brexten practically growled.

"Then let me assure you that all is well, my lord Prince. If anyone probes deeply enough, they will know the trails are false. I'm wanted for high treason. If anyone wants to find me badly enough, they will."