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I snorted and playfully punched his arm. “I don’t work after midnight.”
“What about play?”
“You’ll find me pretty terrifying in the morning.”
“We could skip those. My aunt herself isn’t an early riser.”
A wry smile curled onto my lips. “Let me guess, she’s a night owl?”
“Down to her choice of pet.”
“She has a pet owl?” I asked him.
“Yes, and he’s rather temperamental. The creature is older than even her and has a quaint ability to worm his way into every conversation within earshot.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “A talking owl?”
Ben nodded. “The trick is to get him to shut up.”
“Is there anything else you need to tell me before I have a heart attack because the wardrobe started talking to me?”
A more serious expression appeared on his face as he leaned back and folded his arms over his chest. “Yes. Don’t go into the Werewald without me.”
I cocked my head to one side as my mind tried to recall that word. “What’s the Werewald exactly?”
“The ancient forest that surrounds Rookwood Manor,” he explained to me as he pursed his lips. “Its age is unknown, along with some of its dangers. There’s more than just werewolves in there, and more than one person has ventured in there never to return.”
A little color drained from my face. “Werewolves? Please tell me they’re nice and cuddly.”
He shook his head. “I wish that I could, but they’re rather vicious. They’re as sentient as you or I, but there’s a bestiality in their lineage that makes them rather quick to anger and their claws guarantee that whatever has angered them will be swiftly-”
“Sliced and diced,” I finished for him as I slumped in my seat. A deep sigh escaped me. “So is there anything else I need to know? Any scenic spots where the trees will try to murder me? Or maybe a perfectly safe meadow that’s full of killer bees? A poodle with a nasty overbite?”
“Poodle?”
I shook my head. “It’s nothing. At least I hope not, but seriously, should I be terrified of a patch of moss?”
His eyes twinkled again. “Nothing that mundane, I assure you. The Werewald, aside from the werewolves, is merely rather large. The kings of Ortusia in past times have attempted to tame the wilderness, but the vines and trees have always grown over too quickly to be worth the effort.”
“It doesn’t happen to be having a growth spurt any time soon, does it?” I asked him.
“None that I’m aware of, but I’d be mindful of what I stepped on. The woods are liable to swallow you into its dark shadows, and that’s when people never return.”
I set a hand on top of his and gave it a pat. “You think of the most lovely spots for us to see.”
He grinned. “I try.”
I leaned forward and peered out the window. Ferox’s quick speed, notwithstanding the slower horse beside him, had rolled us to the far reaches of the city, leaving a path of terror and destruction in our wake. Well, mostly terror. We soon reached the northern boundaries and the path opened to a rugged dirt road that led toward the dark green patch known as the Werewald.
The countryside was dotted with farms and stately mansions. Animals chewed their cud and watched as we flew past. Farmers paused in their fields to admire Ferox’s quick speed.
The day also flew by, and by the time we neared the dark green woods half the sun had dipped below the horizon. The road had narrowed and rutted so that we swayed from side to side in the deep tracks. Trees covered the sides of the road and their heavy branches loomed over us. The air was heavy with mystery and age, so much so that I wrapped my arms around myself as much to keep the chill off as to protect my important bits from an unknown danger.
Ben wrapped his arm around me and drew me close against his side. “We’re almost there.”
Hope filled my heart when I noticed a crossroads ahead. The road turned leftward and continued straight. We took the leftward path, but there was no sign of the manor house.
I watched the other route for as long as it was visible. “Where does that lead to?”
