Parn started to step forward, but Deedlit stopped him.
“This is a princess’s bedchamber,” she whispered. “You men need to stay out.”
Deedlit stepped forward into the room. With her excellent elvish night vision, she could make out a small, trembling figure hiding beyond the bed. Deedlit couldn’t blame the princess for being frightened. She sighed and opened her arms wide.
“It’s all right, Your Highness. My name is Deedlit, and my friends and I are here to rescue you. Please come out, there’s no need to be scared.” She paused, waiting for a response, but the girl said nothing. Deedlit could only hear the sound of her quick, strained breathing.
“Lauma adonia moile de Pharis,” Etoh called out from the doorway. Deedlit glanced back at him.
“Moiros rahm,” a young woman’s hoarse voice replied. “Is there a Pharis cleric here?”
“I’m still only a priest, actually,” Etoh replied, reverently bowing his head toward the darkness.
“We’re here to rescue you, so please come this way,” Deedlit repeated. A small shadow in white sleeping clothes rose from behind the bed and walked over hesitantly.
The moment she caught sight of Etoh’s priest robes with the holy symbol of Pharis, she slipped past Deedlit to leap into Etoh’s arms, letting out a high-pitched wail.
Etoh staggered backwards, and Parn had to support him so he didn’t topple over under the girl’s weight. Parn blushed deeply when he took a closer look at the girl—her nightgown was extremely sheer.
Deedlit scowled at Parn and unbuckled her cloak to drape over the girl’s shoulders. Etoh was also blushing but didn’t pull away from comforting the girl.
“Your Highness,” Etoh said, “you need to prepare to leave this place. We don’t know when the sorceress will be back, so we must go as soon as we can.” Hearing that, Slayn stepped away to retrieve their things, Ghim and Woodchuck following close behind.
“Wonderful. Another midnight march,” Woodchuck grumbled. He wasn’t sure if it was the long day of walking or the lingering effects of the spell, but he felt much more sluggish than usual.
“You’re welcome to stay here and sleep, if you want the witch to eat you,” Ghim said, glaring at Woodchuck. “Everyone’s tired. Stop complaining.”
“All right, all right,” Woodchuck sighed.
“I hope we can use that carriage,” Deedlit mumbled to herself as she headed to the staircase. Parn followed after her to help.
“So do I,” the princess stammered. She made to follow Deedlit and Parn and lend a hand, but Etoh stopped her.
“Don’t worry, Your Highness—we can handle this ourselves. You should get ready to leave.” With that, Etoh followed the others downstairs.
Princess Fianna headed back to her room. Once there, she at last noticed how immodestly she was dressed. Her face flushed with mortification—if Elmore, the Grand Chamberlain, found out she’d embraced a young priest while dressed like this, she would get quite a scolding.
Embarrassment aside, she was truly grateful for the priest’s presence. She was relieved to be rescued, of course, but she still felt anxious surrounded by such strange people. Hearing someone recite Pharis prayers was a welcome taste of home. The others were so odd to her—she’d never met anyone at all like them back at Roid Castle. She shivered. She wanted to go home.
Before, she had wanted to travel to the front lines to encourage the troops—but instead, she’d been tricked and captured. Magic had kept her subdued and captive during the day, and at night, the guards made escape impossible. She had basically resigned herself to her fate—that of being taken to Marmo and used as a hostage—but omniscient and omnipotent Pharis had not abandoned her. He’d sent her angels of salvation, though they weren’t exactly what she would’ve expected.
Fianna traced the sign of Pharis over her heart and offered a prayer of gratitude, then quickly flung off her nightgown and reached for the dress left folded on the table. They’re my only hope, she told herself, but still couldn’t shake the doubt that gripped her heart.
By the time Etoh made it outside, Deedlit was trying to calm a restless horse in a language he’d never heard. Another horse was already hitched to the carriage, waiting quietly. Parn was leading another horse, saddled and ready to ride, in a circle.
Deedlit brought the now-calmed horse over to Etoh and glanced at the priest. “Etoh, why don’t you get into the carriage and take a nap? You look like you’re about to fall over.”
“But—” he tried to object, but the elf shook her head.
“You’ll make yourself most useful by climbing into this carriage, wrapping yourself in a blanket, and going to sleep.” Deedlit spoke gently but firmly. From the moment she’d woken from the spelled sleep, she’d noticed that Etoh looked completely exhausted—sick and deathly pale.
Etoh nodded and, without another word, climbed into the gilded carriage. He felt around the dark interior to find the seat and lie down.
A moment later, he slipped into a deep slumber, as if Karla’s magic had only been delayed.
Dressed and ready to go, Princess Fianna came outside and climbed into the carriage, Deedlit right behind her. Parn forced an objecting Ghim onto a horse behind him. Once astride, the dwarf howled his protests at the terrifying height. Woodchuck took the carriage reins; Slayn sat beside him on the driver’s seat. They were all exhausted, but the thought of Karla made them forget their fatigue. They would be killed if they met her again, and with her powerful magic, she might already know they’d escaped.
With that terrifying thought, they headed out.
Slayn’s staff cast a wan glow on the path ahead. Dawn was still hours away, and their goal—the city of Adan—was even further off.
The journey through darkness seemed to last forever, but eventually the eastern sky brightened and the morning sun rose over the horizon. The tension abated with the darkness. Parn started to drift off despite being on horseback, and Ghim had to keep him awake for fear of sliding off along with him. Woodchuck handed the reins off to Slayn and fell quickly asleep. Slayn left the horses mostly to their own devices, trusting them to follow the path with only a light touch on the reins. They were travelling through fields, beneath the trees planted along the path, their leaves spread wide to receive the sunlight’s blessing. Roosters crowed in the distance.
“We’re still half a day from Adan?” Parn asked Slayn, giving the rising sun a gloomy look.
Slayn nodded. “We might get there before noon. It’ll be another hot day.”
“We should stop for a rest.”
“We should,” the wizard said. “We’re all exhausted, as are the horses. It would be nice to rest in the shade during the heat of the day and then keep going this evening.”
Despite their words, they pushed on. They didn’t know how far the witch was behind them, after all. Around noon, however, the horses started to foam at the mouth, and they had to stop.
Etoh and Woodchuck were awake by then. Deedlit and Princess Fianna woke soon after and emerged from the carriage.
The group chose a large tree along the road and settled down under its branches. Ghim dismounted, relieved to feel the earth beneath his feet once more. Parn stretched out next to him and immediately started snoring. Deedlit looked on warmly. Slayn started to doze off where he sat.
“We’re not out of the woods yet,” Etoh said, slow and languid. “We won’t have truly escaped Karla’s clutches until we reach the Valis army. We’ll be safe once we make it to Adan, so we’ll just have to stay on our guard and keep moving forward.” Etoh glanced at Parn’s snoring form, then at Slayn, who was still sitting up but dead asleep. “Before we rest, we should decide who’s going to ride next and who’s going to drive. I could probably manage the latter.”
“I’ll ride next, then,” Deedlit offered. “The princess can stay in the carriage, but Slayn and Parn should join her. Wood can drive with you, Etoh. Do you think Ghim would fit next to you both?”
“Not with my girth,” the dwarf replied.
“Then you can sit behind me. There’s a grip on the saddle. Just don’t touch me, or I’ll throw you off the horse.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Ghim answered, looking serious. He’d had to cling to Parn’s waist for dear life while sitting behind him—a horse’s gait was bouncier than he’d expected.
“We’ll rest a little while longer,” Etoh said. “But then we have to get going. We shouldn’t be too far from the city.” He looked at the sunlight coming down through the trees. The supreme god Pharis ruled the sun, and its light was his blessing…but its heat was almost unbearable already. It would be a rough afternoon.