Maybe that’s why he likes me, I think.
“Little bumpier than riding Thea,” Rosie says, bent so low, her stomach is pressed to her ibex’s back. Its black horns curl around her.
“You’re doing fine,” I call over.
“Trust your mount.” Farron spurs his ibex closer and gently pats her beast’s nose. “These animals know the route well. They’ll get us there safely.”
Rosalina nods, and we continue up the long path to the monastery, riding the local ibexes. We rented a couple from a farmer outside the city, though he insisted we keep a wary eye out for goblins. Thank the stars we chose the mounts. My feet ache just thinking of trekking all the way up here.
The ibexes’ sure-footed steps harmonize with the rush of the nearby river and the distant roar of cascading waterfalls. The path steepens ahead, and the scent of pine and earth mingles with the fresh afternoon air, filling my lungs with each breath.
As we ascend higher, the monastery comes into view, perched majestically atop the mountain. “Who the hell would give up everything to live on the top of a bloody mountain with not a tavern in sight?”
“It was built on one of the highest peaks in the Vale so as to be close to the Above.” Farron gives a light chuckle. “It’s a sign of devotion, Day. The monastery is situated in the Spring Realm, but Spring does not abide over it. The Golden Acolytes and the Queen’s Army answer only to the Queen. But with the High Clerics gone and Kairyn governing it now, I’m sure much has changed.”
“Including the need for a mass number of weapons,” Rosalina says, running a hand along the new metal bracer Tilla gifted her.
Damn, that woman is incredible. Receiving a gift from her mate’s former lover? It would have been so easy for Rosie to put up her guard upon meeting Tilla, to hate her for the simple reason she was with her mate before. But of course, Rosie offered her the same respect and kindness she offers everyone.
She’s perfect. Far too perfect for me. Something the world has no shame in reminding me of. It laughs in my face when I dare to try. Dare to have a single perfect moment with her.
The ibexes quicken their pace, their powerful muscles propelling us forward. I lean into their movements. My heart pounds in rhythm with their hoofbeats.
The path winds perilously close to the edge of a steep cliff. On our other side, roaring sounds as a waterfall drops to a small pond before narrowing back into the river.
“This river runs all the way from the top of Mount Lumidor to just outside of Florendel,” Farron says. “Parts of it are waterfalls like this with a few shallow pools, but there are rocky rapids, too.”
“Do you hear that?” Rosalina asks.
We still, and I lay a gentle hand on my ibex’s back. A bleating sounds in the air, followed by a woman’s scream. We exchange a worried glance, then urge our mounts forward. Figures take shape at the top of the slope before us.
A fae woman dressed in long white and gold robes: an acolyte of the monastery. She holds a stick and waves it back and forth in front of her at—
“Goblins,” I growl.
Four of the creatures edge closer to her, though at least these look like old-fashioned nasties, no green flames surrounding them.
“She’s protecting the babies!” Rosalina yells.
A small cluster of baby ibexes cower behind the acolyte. The fluffy, cream-colored creatures huddle close, eyes wide, with horns no more than stubs.
“Get back!” the acolyte snarls venomously and cracks one of the goblins over the head with her stick. Another one charges her, and she stumbles, feet at the edge of the river.
“We have to help!” Rosalina shouts, sitting straighter as she urges her ibex up the hill.
Farron nods and I follow their lead. “Guess they warned us about goblins.”
“Tasty, tasty for our lunches,” one of the goblins chitters.
“Tenderest meat, the babies have,” another one says, licking its lips.
“I told you to get back!” the woman yells again. She’s young, with dark hair and a vicious scowl. She brings her stick down hard on one of the goblin’s feet and it howls.
Heat washes over me as Farron gathers his power. As a High Prince with his curse broken, there’s nothing holding his magic back, except the overall health of Castletree.
A goblin lunges for the baby ibexes, and the woman careens her stick toward it. The goblin catches it and pushes her. She doesn’t even have a chance to scream. One moment she’s there, the next she’s in the river. She pops up, sputtering, before the river ensnares her, and she plunges down the waterfall.