Page 4 of Crownless Heirs

Kyron muttered under his breath and made his way to the brook, bending to wash away the fight.

As he splashed water on his face, Sorcha’s reflection appeared beside him. “Are you alright?”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he said with a smirk. “What happened back there with the banshee?”

Kyron removed his torn shirt and began scrubbing the blood from it. Sorcha watched as the scarlet hues muddied the water. She didn’t have an explanation, but as she thought, she rubbed her hand as if it stung.

Noticing this, she quickly changed the subject. “I’m sorry if it didn’t seem like I was worried.” She sat beside him. “I was, and I am. Cat just looked worse.”

She winced at her own words and began talking faster. “I didn’t mean to say you weren’t hurt, or that your wounds aren’t as bad,” she stumbled over her words, watching him splash water over his tensed muscles.

Kyron chuckled, “I don’t think I’ve seen you lost for words before.”

Sorcha shot to her feet. “I’m not.”

She stood there watching his muscles tense as he scrubbed, the cuts along his side still bleeding. “Here, let me help you clean these up.”

Sorcha tore a strip from her sleeve and dipped it into the river. Kneeling beside him, she began wiping away the sticky residue from his side. Kyron tensed and gave a low grunt when she pressed a little too firmly.

“Stop moving,” Sorcha muttered, though Kyron was still wringing out his shirt.

He twisted the fabric, then sat back, leaning on his elbows to give her better access. Her eyes followed the cuts along his side, one curving into the V of his hips. Kyron watched her closely as her hands moved lower, toward his waistband. Sorcha realized she had been staring too long and pulled back suddenly, jumping to her feet.

Kyron’s eyes met hers, and he rose to his feet, his gaze sweeping over her from above. The chilling touch of his wet skin against her shirt sent a shiver down her spine.

With a shallow breath, he moved in closer and softly said, “Thank you.”

Sorcha gazed into his eyes, dark as a brewing storm, feeling his attention drift to her mouth. Her heart pounded so loudly that she was certain he could hear it. It was at that moment Cat cleared his throat, interrupting them.

“Sorry to intrude,” he said, “but we have to head north.”

Suddenly, Sorcha stepped back and began gathering her things, leaving Cat and Kyron at the brook.

2

Surprise

The adrenaline of the fight had faded now, leaving only the distant hum of unseen creatures in the trees and the rhythmic crunch of their footsteps as they left the bog behind. As they traveled, the path changed, and they found themselves in front of a massive tree. It was gnarled and its bark charred, with a hole in its center; it reminded Sorcha of a mouth. The tiny vines wrapping around it like teeth and the burns on the tree looked too much like facial features.

“I hope this isn’t — Cat started to say when a voice slithered from the darkness of the hollow.

It was a low rumble, “You walk paths not meant for thee.”

Sorcha looked around in confusion.

Kyron exhaled as his grip tightened on his sword. “Wonderful, this little detour keeps getting better.”

Cat, however, just flicked his tail. “A riddle tree.” His eyes gleamed as he glanced at Sorcha. “We had better get this right. Otherwise, it eats us.”

“Eats us?” she repeated.

“Yes, like a midday snack,” Cat chirped.

The hollow widened. A deep chuckle rumbled from within.

“Answer true and you may pass. Answer false and you’ll feed the forest.”

Sorcha’s pulse began to quicken as the tree spoke its riddle.