A Betrayal of Storms by Ben Alderson

Chapter 7

The last thing I wanted was to fall asleep. But the rhythmic trot of the stag made it impossible to keep my eyes open.

When I woke abruptly to a deep chortle, my mouth was dry, likely from having it hung open like an unattractive flytrap. My neck and shoulder shared an ache from the awkward angle I'd fallen asleep in.

But the worst feeling of all was knowing how close I had pressed myself into the hard torso of Erix's frame, as though I had fallen asleep with my back against a wall. And his arm, those two statuesque arms seemed to be closer now, as they held me in place from tumbling from the saddle.

"Now I am not confident if it was your own snoring that woke you, or something I may have done." My heart dropped like a rock in a lake, embarrassment creeping up my neck in a splotch of red that warmed my cheeks and ears. "If it was the latter, I do apologise."

I was acutely aware of my arm which hung to the side of the stag, and my hand which rested upon the muscular thigh of the fey male. Snatching it away, I wiped the back of my hand to clear any spit that dared dribble down my chin before scoffing a reply. "I don't snore."

"Not that it matters or proving you wrong means anything to me... But you do, in fact, snore." I felt the shift of his torso as he laughed beneath his breath. I inhaled and his scent of spiced cinnamon seemed to be all I could register.

"How long have I been out for?" I asked. I was tired, and scolding to myself would not change that I had let my guard down enough to actually sleep. Even though I had woken untouched, unharmed and with the whispering feeling of safety.

"A few hours. I thought it best to give you a moment to gain some energy, and gift myself with a lack of questioning."

Was that why my head ached? Because the sleep had done little to give me reprieve? Choosing not to respond to Erix, I composed myself by taking in my surroundings. Surroundings that had changed dramatically in such a short period of time.

We were deeper into Wychwood, which meant further away from Father. But I clung to Althea's promise of his invitation. Worrying about it would not change the outcome. And I was far from actioning anything to aid in providing his invite. Pushing that thought away, I focused on the view around me.

The trees were no longer thick with different shades of green. Now the many branches were sparse, only a few amber leaves clung to them as the rest fluttered to the forest bed like falling, golden flecks of snow.

At first the stag's footfalls had been muffled by moss, grass and mud. Now each step responded by the crunch of leaves beneath it. Peering towards the ground, it was covered in a bed of amber and ruddy coloured leaves, a blanket of autumn that stretched out in all directions for as far as I could see.

I also noticed the lack of a convoy. The crowd of fey whom walked among the many mounted warriors had thinned. I could have counted the number that remained, but Erix spoke again, snatching my attention.

"You woke in time for our arrival to Aurelia."

"Aurelia?" Erix had said it as though it was no more than a passing comment. A name without meaning. But what he must have known was I, and others beyond Wychwood, had little understanding of the lands. The place was mostly a mystery. No human cartographer had depicted what laid beyond the Wychwood barrier completely. Across any human map the space was a shadowed mark, with a known beginning but an unimaginable end, speckled with the four Court's names and boundary lines.

"It is the southern and second largest dwelling in Cedarfall. The golden city. A message arrived whilst you slept with instructions of our change of course. It seems that message of... you... has reached the capital before Althea which was not what was intended."