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“Mid Envoy,” he said, grasping the carriage for purchase. “This simply cannot be the main road between Ondocis and Ardora.”
“Bit of a change, isn’t it?” he said with a chuckle, moving the fur out of his eyes. “It shocked me on my first trip down! There is a reason most travelers go by sea. All these paths are mostly used by local farmers with heavy wagons, not carriages.”
“Aurie,” said Teigra, stepping down from the carriage with considerably more finesse. “Didn’t you listen during training? Ardora exports wine and meat and vegetables. They aren’t poor, exactly, but things are a lot less developed here than back in Mestibes. The roads? The houses? Everything will be like this.”
No, that simply won’t do, thought Aurelius, wheezing his way up a nearby hill to get a better view.
His fury was momentarily tempered.
What hit him first was the space. You could barely throw a rock in Mestibes or even Ondocis without hitting a mountain or the sea or the other side of a valley, but here he could see for miles, the mountains replaced with gentle hills, expansive orchids, and fruit-heavy vineyards.
“Oh, Mesti,” said Teigra, who had followed him up, albeit without the panting. “It’s beautiful.”
“What about up there?” he said, pointing to an overgrown fork a few hundred yards ahead.
Jaspar squinted. “I believe that’s an old farming road. It runs by some outskirt towns whose soil went bad a few years back. If I remember right, everyone had to move to the more favorable fields around Prasni Zorio.”
“Prasni Zorio?” said Teigra. “That’s where we’ll have to stop for the night, isn’t it?”
“Oh, yes. We won’t make Ardora proper at this pace.”
Aurelius gestured. “And how much longer would that road take to get to Prasni.”
Jaspar looked nervous. “Oh, I don’t think we can do that, Your Excellency. That would be very bad luck. They say that the displeasure of Ardor has seeped right into the grass.”
“It’s the grass I’m looking at, Jaspar, rather than this dreaded potholed rubble! How long?”
Tiggy grimaced. “Aurie, I’m getting bumped around as well, but maybe we should listen to—”
“How long?”
Jaspar was exasperated. “It would probably add another hour or two. We would still get to Prasni before nightfall. But really, we shouldn’t—”
“Good. Thank you, Mid Envoy. A few extra hours on grass sounds like a wonderful change.”
“As you wish,” said Jaspar, thumbing the reins.
And it was as he wished. The overgrown roads were bliss to the wheels, softening their path like a goat-wool mattress. As they traveled further down the disused byways, they even had the added benefit of overgrown orange trees by their flanks, blocking the harsh sun and filling the air with sweetness.
“We should have listened to Jaspar,” said Teigra, peeking out at the abandoned towns—the buildings moldering and moss covered. “This place doesn’t look well-favored at all.”
“Oh, don’t get all superstitious on me, Tiggy,” he said, kissing his fingers in solemn devotion. “Oh Ardor, Mother of Fertility, Mistress of Passion, forgive us the sin for not wanting our heads rattled off by your hideous roads.”
Just as he pressed his fingers to the thickly woven ceiling, there came an almighty shriek from the other side.
He yanked his hand back just in time to avoid three massive talons slashing through the cloth.
Overhead, framed by the brilliant sun, was a hideous female face, with layers of brown and ivory feathers where her skin should have been. The creature extended two great wings, as long as the carriage. A hideous smile stretched across its lipless mouth, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth.
Harpy!
The beast swooped into the carriage, its talons bared.
Aurelius screamed, slamming his eyes shut and waiting for the sensation of tearing flesh.
20
TEIGRA
