Читать книгу Messenger in the Mist - Aubrie Dionne - Страница 8

Special Delivery

A rolling mass of clouds filled the sky as Star prepared for her journey back to Evenspark. Ravencliff’s crimson flags stretched taut in the wind gushing from the east. A storm brewed just beyond the mountains clustered around the city’s edge. If Star was lucky, she could outrun it, but it was unlikely. She would have to deal with mist, dangerous flying beasts and torrents of rain.

Despite the urgency of the moment, Star couldn’t help but feel a nonsensical urge to remain at Ravencliff. She had tossed in her sweat-drenched sheets all night, her limbs filled with agitation and her heart at odds with reason. Did she intend to take down a kingdom with an infatuation? Actually, the best thing she could do was stay far away from Valen and let fate spin its course unhindered.

After stuffing the last batch of outgoing letters into her carrier bag, Star mounted Windracer and turned to the lead guard on duty. “Throw down the drawbridge. I am ready to depart.”

Draft horses, as tough as dragons, heaved and the wheels of the gate turned. The metal chains clinked, slowly at first then increasing speed until a rhythmic percussion of chinks filled the air. Star felt Windracer gearing up, her front hoof stomping the ground in anticipation.

Then a horn blew, wailing like the complaint of a suffering banshee. A guard calmed the horses and the wheels rumbled to a halt. The drawbridge hovered in midair, a slim crack between wood and stone revealing a misted slate of endless pewter. Frustrated, Star turned around in her saddle.

The cause of the delay appeared to be a hooded figure riding a stallion. The horse dashed toward her, past the guards of the courtyard, stirring up dust in its wake.

Star’s anger caught fire. Not only was the rider interfering with her schedule, but he also put her at odds with the upcoming storm. She needed to get back as soon as possible. She had worked hard to catch up all day yesterday, and now here was one person wanting to delay everyone’s letters and Star’s duty.

In the turbulence of the ride, with the wind whipping against the rider, the hood fell free. Star recognized Valen and her irritation fizzled. Closing the last few paces, he rode up beside her. “My apologies, Miss Nightengale.” The prince looked like he hadn’t slept well either. Dark circles framed his keen blue eyes, and his wavy hair jutted out at all angles. “I have one more letter for you to deliver.”

She didn’t want to create a scene in front of the guards or put him in any questionable circumstances where people would gossip about them. She wondered if he had contrived some fake letter just to see her again. A part of her hoped, but another part dreaded. She had no desire to sunder relations between the two kingdoms. “You could have waited. The next messenger rides out today.”

“No.” He shook his head as if to drive phantoms out of his thoughts. “This could not wait.”

Star took the letter in her hands, her fingers clumsily brushing his. She couldn’t help but read to whom it was addressed. He’d hastily scribbled Evenspark Castle, Princess Vespa on the front.

Her thoughts reeled, turned upside down. Perhaps she had misread his every move. Perhaps, to him, she was only a messenger, delivering a love letter to the correct recipient. How could she have been so stupid?

Her eyes welled with unwanted tears and she turned away to hide her embarrassment. “I’ll make sure she receives it.” Her lips tightened.

The prince pulled her back, forcing her to look into his eyes. His breath fell on her lips. “You make your own destiny.”

Not knowing what his words meant, Star yanked Windracer’s harness and turned away.

“Guard, I’m ready. Lower the gate.” The guard turned to Valen, since he’d signaled the initial halt.

Valen waved. “Yes, let the bridge down. Let her go.”

The lowering of the drawbridge passed in awkward silence. For Star, it seemed like an eternity. The moment the wood touched ground, she whipped the reins and burst into motion, leaving without another word. Even though she told herself not to, as she crossed the drawbridge, she couldn’t help but look back. The prince stood where she had left him, his hand rising in silent farewell.

Star’s thoughts boiled into turmoil and the misted countryside held no distraction. Fate’s cruel irony laughed in her face as she held the letter addressed to Princess Vespa in her carrier bag. She would deliver it, of course. It was her duty. But she didn’t have to relish the task.

Suddenly, a giant flutter and a gust of wind soared above her head. Star looked up just in time to see the mist curl around a set of black spidery legs. She tried to calm her heart as it sprinted ahead, skipping a few beats. The beast would have to time the arc of its descent precisely when Windracer would pass underneath.

Star crouched in her saddle, searching the tendrils of mist hovering over her. As if drawing on Star’s growing fear, Windracer quickened her pace. Star wondered how long her horse would be able to keep up the faster gait, and if the Elyndra could calculate its plunge once again with the change of speed in mind. Slowly, careful not to fall out of her saddle, Star reached behind her and unsheathed her dagger. Next time, she would be ready for the attack.

Sure enough, several heartbeats later, the rush of air came again. Star ducked in the saddle, raising her arm with the dagger in hand. She felt a thorny appendage scratch her forearm, groping at her. Star thrust the dagger upward, but was not able to reach high enough to stab the belly of the beast. The Elyndra flew away again, empty-handed.

Star held her wounded arm like it was a baby, rubbing it with her other hand. It was fortunate that her cloak had long sleeves. The fabric was torn in a gash, ripping down the length of her arm.

She twisted the reins around her arm in several loops. Next, she dug her feet deeper into the stirrups, locking them in place. If the beast attempted to pick her up, then it would have to carry her horse as well, and she didn’t think it could manage the extra burden.

Star sheathed the dagger. The blade reached too short to cause any damage and the iridescent carapace covering the Elyndra’s legs was too thick to penetrate. She would have to think of another tactic.

But she did not have enough time before it attacked again. Star’s initial shock gave way to blazing fury, and this time she grabbed one of its spindly legs. She yanked down and twisted, throwing it off balance. The beast careened backward into the mist. She had caught it off guard. Behind her, she heard it tumble onto the ground.

Star did not look back to see what became of the beast. It did not attack again, but she could not subdue her racing heart. It beat against her chest like a wild animal held against its will in the cage of her ribs. Her stomach pitched, and she was thankful she hadn’t eaten anything after Hilda’s beefy breakfast.

It had been Star’s first physical contact with the flying beasts. The Elyndra had always been a ghost of a threat, a legend spun by the fireside to scare wild children into behaving. Mothers would say, “Eat your dinner, or I’ll let the Elyndra carry you away to the bad children’s land.” Sometimes Star even wondered if they were out there at all or if it was a myth created by past queens in order to control their subjects.

Now she knew the Elyndra were real, and Zetta’s warnings rang with the bell of truth resonating in her head.

The remaining stretch of the journey was a blur of scattered thoughts and anxious fretting. Relief came when the metal grid work surrounding Evenspark claimed the horizon in a shell of wires capping the hilltop. Blacksmiths had forged the giant screen a century ago, welding it together and attaching it to a large gate that looked like a mouth of crooked dragon’s teeth.

The screech of the grid coming apart was like angels singing to Star’s ear. She rode through the mouth of metalwork and, for the first time, looked back to make sure it closed behind her. Star watched mesmerized as the chrome strands intertwined once again, sealing the Elyndra out. The grid had never been more reassuring and relief eased her tired muscles, despite the fact that she carried Valen’s letter to Vespa.

Taking deep breaths to calm herself, she and Windracer trotted toward headquarters.

“Something wrong?”

Star jumped in her saddle. Immersed in her thoughts, she didn’t see Zetta approach. Did the woman look for her arrival day and night? “Zetta,” she said, breathless, “I was attacked.”

“Attacked!” Zetta’s voice rose into a high-pitched squeal. She scrambled the final few steps to meet Star.

“Yes.” Star dismounted. “An Elyndra came for me.” She showed Zetta the torn sleeve of her cloak.

“And the letters?”

Star took a quick intake of breath. The fact Zetta cared more for the letters than her health shocked her. Her tone was cold as evening’s chill. “All delivered by last night’s eventide.”

Zetta swayed, falling back in a wash of relief. “I thought the Elyndra weren’t fast enough to catch you.”

“Me too. Either they’re getting quicker or they’re getting smarter.” Star couldn’t decide which was more frightening.

“And have you brought the letters from Ravencliff?”

“Yes, I have.” Star swished her cloak around her shoulder, revealing the swelled carrier’s bag.

“Good. I’ll take the bag to the first checkpoint and have the letters processed.”

At the time, Star didn’t think much of it when she relinquished the letter bag to Zetta. With the aftermath of the attack still fraying her nerves, she’d forgotten Fallon Leer’s letter to her superior.

Zetta put her palm on Star’s forehead. “You look peaked. Go to the Carriers Station and rest. I’ll get the letters back to you once they are processed. Chloe, over there, can take Windracer to the stables. In the meantime, I’ll fetch a healer to look you over.”

“Thank you, Zetta.” Maybe the old crone cared for her after all.