Hoofbeats and Wind
DAPHNE
Watching Ash and Bregda from my place on Trielle's back, Delago and Klyesque at my heels, I smile when I see Magda approach them because the pair go ghastly white. And... although we cannot hear her from the distance from which we wait, I know that whatever it was, it gained enough of their notice for the two to shove each other angrily before heading back in the direction of my palace. Once they are out of eyesight, Magda winks in our direction and Klyesque and I charge through the gate and back into the Forest of the Golden Oak.
Once we've passed, I turn toward Klyesque, closing my eyes so that I might see her beneath my cloaking. "You are certain you know where we are headed?" I ask, my close-eyed gaze taking in the grandness of a forest in shadow. The trees that are normally so bright with hues of magnificent color, are banked to an almost muted intensity. Not without color, but devoid of dimension. Like walking through the flat of a canvas or peering at landscape through a gossamer veil.
Klyesque faces me, her eyes as closed as my own. "Yes. It is not a long ride from here. The Woodland Keep sits in the center of the Meadow, bordered by its five territories, one of them being the Forest of the Golden Oak. We should make it there and back in plenty of time for the banquet and hopefully none will be the wiser."
'Reseat yourself upon the stolen throne, your throne, the Woodland Throne. Seek out the blind boy I once told you tale about and retrieve your Oracle. He waits for you on the other side of the gate, where the False One rests.'
Isabel's words come back to me as if on the wind and I shudder.
"Lead on," I say, opening my eyes as Klyesque whispers to Delago and we shoot off into the forest, naught but hoofbeats and wind.
We've only been riding for ten minutes when I notice the presence of the shadow from before. The creature that followed while were in the trench. The phantom that traced our steps as if they were their own.
I catch it on the left of me, passing from branch to branch of glimmering oaks and maples. Slipping through shadow and wind... watching. Waiting.
Knowing that the steed do not separate, I lean down and whisper to Trielle, "Stop my love, something tails us."
Trielle's scarlet coat shimmers, bathing us in a whisp of glowing flame, then she stops, turning her head to the north, where all traces of our stalker seem to have paused somewhere within a jacket of darkness, where evergreens and oaks huddle like a timid crowd.
I see nothing but whisps of shadow and falling leaves.
Falling leaves that appear to land upon something so well hidden that I'm forced to wonder if this being might be one of my own.
One of the Hidden.
One of my Fae.
I tilt my chin upward, closing my eyes to gauge the distance between Klyesque and myself. She is near to me, silently scanning the trees that I've drawn attention upon, but it is as I turn back that I finally see him. A vision in gray. A man on a horse, but not just any horse.
Sparks quiver about the animal's hooves.
This man... this wraith... he rides upon a creature of shadow. One of the Shadow Steed I am sure, and remembering what Magda said about only Shadow royalty being able to command the creatures of shadow, I have to wonder... is that what this male is? Shadow royalty?
He is dressed in finery and faerie mail and I notice... it is not I that he is watching... it is Trielle. So perhaps he cannot see me beneath my cloaking, but can somehow sense Trielle as shadow beast.
I open my eyes, simultaneously uncloaking myself, but leaving Klyesque masked. Delago huffs out a breath and I can feel Klyesque's eyes on me, hear the song of her sword as it leaves its sheathe.
This might be the stupidest thing I have ever done, but I decide to speak to him, whomever he is.
"I can see you," I call out, now focused on the diversion of falling leaves. "I know you are there. Why do you follow us?"
When only silence greets me, I say softly, "I know you what you ride upon is shadow steed. I know that is what you follow. Show yourself."
The sound of crunching leaves and hooves has me tensing as the dark, phantomlike shape erupts from the copse of trees, revealing a man so pale I have to wonder if his flesh has ever known warmth, and a horse so bright a yellow that its only comparison might be the mortal sun.
He smiles as he approaches, jet black hair curling over his bleak obsidian eyes and drawing attention to the only smattering of color upon his flesh. The tiny freckles that adorn the bridge of his perfectly aquiline nose.
Something about him screams familiarity and for a second I am at a loss for breath. I hear myself whisper, "Who are you?"
His dark eyes continue to penetrate me, falling over every facet of my features almost fondly before he says, "I was sent here, I am Shadow Fae."
"Yes, but who are you?" I snap, unable to keep the irritation from my voice. "Why are you following me?"
"I do not follow, I guard," he says in the haughty voice of a nobleman. "As is my right."
"I know him." Klyesque snarls. "And he is no guard. Uncloak me!"
With a quick glance in her direction, I simply wish for her to be revealed and suddenly she is standing there, blade posed high and at the ready.
The man's eyes flash, and he says sweetly, "Well hello there little fish. It's been too long."
Klyesque snorts, casting me a wary look, before returning her eyes to his. "His name is Sylvan," she says.
"Sylvan?" I parrot, a sudden tremble in the window calling my senses to alarm.
She nods, keeping her blade high. "He is not merely Shadow Fae. He is Shadow royalty. He is Sylvan, son Bastian, better known as the Prince of the Isle and of Shadow," she whispers the last part pointedly and I blanch.
What are the chances that he knows of me? That he knows who I am?
My words release in pitiful pieces, "P-Prince of-of-"
"Yes," Klyesque interrupts, saving me. "And he is terribly far from home."
"There's a reason for that," Sylvan says softly, turning the keen dark of his gaze on me. "And if I am not mistaken... you know exactly what that reason is. Don't you? Sister?"