Page 105 of The Wolf and Her Shadows

“Nix and Nox are still asleep too,” a gruff unfamiliar voice mutters. “Those lucky bastards can sleep through anything.”

Vannaria’s cheek brushes against my hair as she nods. “I already did it once, so it’s safe to assume I can do it again. Just make sure to keep the horses far enough away from them that they won’t risk being trampled.”

“Speaking of the young’uns,” the dwarf, Bolabar, grumbles next to us. “I think dey was drugged. Heard de guards talkin’ ‘bout it. Dey was meant to be hauled off to Cyrel with all o’ us. Likely te be sold off as slaves to some rich fucks, I reckon.”

“By the gods,” Kali whispers, the horror evident in her tone. “Who could do such a thing?”

“You’d be surprised," Vannaria sneers, tightening her grip on my waist. “We should be thanking those gods of yours that I saw them. I’d never forgive myself if I’d left them there knowing that was their fate.” She clears her throat, lowering her voice again as she asks, “Is everyone ready? I think Her Majesty here is about to pass out on us.”

“No I’m not,” I lie. “I’m just resting my eyes.”

Stephan, the traitor that he is, scoffs. “Sure you are.”

“Shh!” Kali hisses. “Stop talking and get us all someplace safe, please.”

Without another word, the air around us cools slightly as my lover’s shadows no doubt close in around us. I clutch onto her just a bit tighter, hoping that someone made sure to grab our horses for us but too tired to open my eyes and check for myself. The now familiar feeling of weightlessness returns and Vannaria and my souls briefly blend together as she whisks us away to wherever she’s decided to take us.

All too soon, our bodies resolidify, our feet safely back on solid ground. Or at least I hope we’re safe.

“You can open your eyes, Your Majesty. We should be safe here for a moment,” Vannaria whispers, putting my mind at ease.

I slowly do as she says, drowsily lifting my head off her shoulder and forcing my eyes open so I can glance around us. It seems as though she brought us to the top of a large hill overlooking the coastline. There’s a forest to our right and I have to hold in a gasp when I realize it’s likely the one that surrounds the ruins of Amzarath. The one Rayne had outright refused to enter. The Lost Forest.

Where Aren had been forced to…

Quickly shaking my head, I focus my gaze on the people around us instead. After making sure everyone made it here in one piece, horses included, I ask, “Are we going to be able to see the ship from here? Or do we need to walk down to the coast?”

“Here.” A glint of metal in my periphery catches my attention and I glance over to see Trick holding a spyglass out to Vannaria. “This outta do the trick, no? Ha. Trick, get it?”

“Yes, yes. You’re very funny,” the elf grumbles, snatching the spyglass from his hand. She holds it up to her eye for a moment before letting out a sigh. It must’ve been one of relief because she then whispers, “Thank the gods. Again. I think I see it.”

“Is it black with red sails?” Trick asks excitedly. “Fancy gold trim?”

She gives him an annoyed glare. “It’s dark. Everything looks black right now.”

“Ah, well then,” he mutters, still bouncing on his heels. “If she’s the only one you can spot, she’s likely mine. Doubt there’s many other captains that would be brave enough to drop anchor in the middle of nowhere like I am. Especially here.”

“Well, only one way to find out, I suppose.” She holds the spyglass back out to him. “Check for yourself.”

He takes it, lifting it to his eye and adjusting the sight with practiced ease. After a moment, he too sighs in relief. “Aye. There she is. My beautiful King’s Bane.”

Vannaria's gaze drifts toward the forest. “Good. Because if I’m to be honest, I really don’t want to be here a single second longer than we have to be.”

I reach up and cup her cheek, gently urging her to look back at me instead. “Then let's not stay here a second longer. Take us to the ship, My Love.”

With a spark of determination in her exhausted violet eyes, she nods. “Your wish is my command, Your Majesty.”

Chuckling softly, I rest my head back on her shoulder as she once again transforms our entire group into shadow.

As promised, the deck of the small ship is empty when we arrive and Trick and his crew, sans sleeping goblins, waste no time in quietly hoisting up the anchor and lowering the sails.

I’m about to offer to assist them in some way, but before I can make it a single step my feet are swept out from under me as Vannaria lifts me into her arms. Swallowing down my squeak of surprise, I resign myself to my fate and allow her to carry me over to the captain.

Keeping her voice low, she asks, "Captain, does this fine vessel happen to have sleeping quarters somewhere?”

“That it does, my friend.” Trick nods toward a small hatch near the main mast, barely visible in the darkness. “Not the most private space, but there’s a few spare beds, at least. And hammocks, use whichever is your preference. Just don’t take the twin’s or Bolabar’s bunks.” He waves a hand dismissively, as if sensing she’s about to ask which beds those are. “You’ll know ‘em when ya see ‘em.”

“Alright. Thank you, Trick.”