Chapter Ten
Garlon stood riveted to the spot. A cold sweat washed over his skin. He would go to his grave with the sight of the Selkie’s pleading eyes, begging him to set her free. Her mournful wail ripped a tear in his soul.
He had to find her!
The conversation he’d overheard between Analee and the centaur came trickling back across his memory. The creature had mentioned a cage. At the time, Garlon feared she meant to put him in one. That meant the centaur knew where the Selkie was. The goddess would never tell him where the little seal was, but the centaur might, if Garlon could find him.
The creature didn’t want him there any more than Garlon wanted to be there. Could the centaur be a kindred spirit? It was worth a try.
He stalked off in the direction he’d last seen the centaur. That course took him into another darker part of the forest. The long, sweeping branches of oaks and elms grabbed at him as he passed among them. It seemed as if a thousand eyes were watching him. He had no doubt in his mind that Analee and the centaur’s eyes were among them. Of course they would monitor his progress, and hinder him if he came too close to finding the Selkie.
Garlon crashed through the undergrowth, a close eye upon the moon’s progress as he glimpsed it through the treetops. It was no longer a matter of saving himself. He considered his freedom lost. He would never escape from the Otherworld now, but there was hope for the little Selkie. All that remained was to find her and get her out of that cage.
The ghostly scent of ambergris wafted on the night breeze. Was the seal near, or had his longing to see her again conjured the fragrance? It didn’t matter. It was his link to her, and it was somehow rooted in his world, not this dark and deceptive astral plane he trudged through now. If anything were to happen to her, he would never be able to bear it.
Garlon had taken Analee at her word. He had judged and trusted her by human standards; that was his mistake. One could not do that with the Fae. He’d always thought such things were fantasy, nursery tales contrived for children. It had never occurred to him, a seasoned warrior in the very real world, that such things could be true.
When he tossed the ring into the pool, he never imagined conjuring a goddess. Little more than a jest. The sad thing was, she hadn’t lied—she’d told him the truth, just never the whole truth. He bitterly wished he hadn’t been so gullible, so easily beguiled, but there was no use lamenting that now.
The trees were thinning, and the wood finally ended abruptly. Beyond, the mist thickened to a bleak gray fog that barely let the feeble moonlight through. Hesitating on the edge of it, Garlon’s eyes searched in all directions. Which way? How vast was the region the goddess ruled? Was she watching from somewhere hidden in the mist? A trickle of cold laughter replied to that thought as if she’d read his mind.
“Where are you?” he called. “Show yourself! I have served you well in our short time together. Show yourself, I say!”
“So quickly you call for me, Knight of the Realm.” The goddess stepped out of the mist. She sauntered close, circling him. “Forget the Selkie,” she murmured in his ear. “Stay with me.”
“Never, I shall die before I forget you have your sister doomed in a cage.”
In her fury she spun a circle “You will regret this! You will never leave the astral. Give over searching for the Selkie. You will never find her, Garlon Trivelyan!”
• ♥ •
Garlon slumped against the trunk of a young ash tree. He cast his gaze toward the heavens. The moon had nearly run its course. Soon, dawn would break, but that didn’t matter anymore.
He would never see his beloved Cornwall again. He may as well have died in the shipwreck off the Land’s End shoals. All was lost to him the minute he accepted the goddess’s favor. He was convinced that it was what he deserved, but he could not conscience that the goddess would revenge herself upon the blameless Selkie. Why? There had to be a reason for her to treat the little seal so shamefully. Analee was jealous, yes, but it had to be something more than jealousy to prompt her to do murder.
Somehow, he had to find the seal and free her—despite the odds.
One supple branch of an ash tree snaked its way around his arm, giving a tug, while another pointed its outermost twig ahead. Garlon stared as a labyrinth took shape before his eyes. A wall of high hedges marking a narrow maze led into swarthy darkness. Was the tree showing him the right direction, or sending him on a fool’s errand?
He asked, “Are you showing me the way?”
The branch that tethered him slithered away from his wrist, then pushed at his back, propelling him toward the labyrinth. Garlon glanced back and studied the tree. He’d never given trees more than a passing thought in appreciation of the shelter they provided. He had never thought of them as entities in their own right, possessed of the power of thought and comprehension. Now, he understood why men erected shrines in the forests for a passerby to leave a token for the ancient spirits who lived in tall silent columns of bark and moss and vine laced branches.
He heard the crackle and hiss of the lightning bolt before he saw its blinding snake-like energy spear downward and strike the young ash tree. He heard the shriek of a female voice in pain. Did the tree scream? The sound turned his blood cold.
Analee stood, a mere shadow not far away. “Run, Knight of the Realm. Look to the east. See? That is first light breaking over the horizon.”