The Wolf blinked slowly. “I could tell you,” he said quietly, “but it would not sway you. I can smell your determination. I know you will see this through to the end. So why waste the breath?” He yawned and sat up, testing the breeze. “The cat is close. Pity he didn’t get lost.” I turned just as Grimalkin emerged from the bushes nearby, giving me a bored look. “If you are waiting for sunrise, prince, you are wasting your time,” he announced without preamble, and strode past me with his tail in the air. “The light will not penetrate this far into the Deep Wyld, and we have attracted too much attention sitting around here.” He did not look back as he trotted in the direction of the raft. “Wake 108/387
the others,” he commanded, his voice drifting back to us. “It is time for us to go.”
The Wolf and I shared a look over the f lames.
“I could eat him now,” he offered seriously. I bit down a smirk.
“Maybe later,” I said, and got up to rouse the others.
Puck woke easily when I kicked him in the ribs, rolling upright with a wounded yelp, making the Wolf grin with appreciation. “Ow!” he snarled.
“Dammit, ice-boy, why don’t you just stick a knife in my ribs and be done with it?”
“I’ve thought about it,” I replied, and knelt to wake Ariel a, curled up on her cloak by the fire. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, and she reminded me, always, of a sleeping cat. She stirred as I touched her shoulder, opening turquoise eyes to blink up at me sleepily.
“Time to go?” she murmured.
And, very suddenly, my breath caught. She looked vulnerable, lying there in the sand, her hair a silver curtain around her head. She looked slight and delicate and breakable, and I wanted to protect her. I wanted to pull her close and shield her from all the dangers in the world, and the realization made my stomach churn.
“Come on,” I said, offering a hand to help her up. Her fingers were soft as I drew her to her feet. “The all-knowing cait sith has returned, and we’ve been ordered to move out.”
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That made her smile, as I’d hoped it would, and for half a heartbeat we stood there, gazing at each other in the sand, our faces a breath apart.
Her fingers tightened on mine, and for a moment, it was like nothing had changed, that Ariel a had never died, that we’d returned to a time when we were both happy, where there were no blood oaths between friends and no vow that stood between us.
But, yearning for the impossible didn’t make it so. Guiltily, I pulled away, breaking eye contact, and Ariel a dropped her hands, a shadow darkening her face. Without speaking, we followed Puck toward the raft, where Grimalkin already sat on the edge, thumping his tail with impatience.
Behind us, the Wolf trailed silently, but I could feel his ancient, knowing gaze on my back.
Under Grimalkin’s impatient glare, we climbed aboard the raft, shoved off, and the current moved us out into the river once more. No one spoke, though I didn’t miss the cold, angry looks I was receiving from Puck, nor the subtle glances Ariel a was shooting my way. I ignored them both, keeping my gaze straight ahead and my eyes trained on the river.
Not long after that, the River of Dreams picked up speed. No longer sleepy and tranquil, it rushed along as if it were f leeing something, a dark and faceless terror that chased it through the night. The debris that f loated in the water and knocked against the raft had taken on a macabre feel.
Coffins bobbed to the surface, knives and plastic doll heads went spinning by, hockey masks and clown shoes thumped against the front of the boat.
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“I don’t like the looks of this,” Puck mused, as I barely avoided a collision with a broken tombstone that lurched out of the water. It was the first thing he’d said for several miles, which I thought might be some sort of a record. “What happened to the f lowers and butterf lies and all the shiny, pretty dream stuff?”
“We’re nearing the nightmare stretch,” the Wolf rumbled ominously.
“I told you. You’re not going to like what you see.”
“Freaking fantastic.” Puck shot him a look. “And, uh, does anyone else hear drums?”
“That isn’t funny, Puck,” Ariel a chided, but at that moment an arrow thunked into one of the logs, causing everyone to jerk upright.
I looked to the riverbank. Small, pale things scurried through the bushes and undergrowth, keeping pace with the raft. I caught glimpses of round, red eyes, short, bulbous tails and dark cloaks, but it was difficult to see anything through the trees and shadows.
“Okay, natives definitely not friendly,” Puck mused, ducking as another arrow shot overhead. “Hey, cat, any idea what kind of nasties we’ve pissed off so royally?”
Grimalkin, of course, had vanished. More darts filled the air, lodging into the planks or f lying past us into the water, some barely missing us.
“Dammit,” Puck snarled, “we’re sitting ducks out here.” With a snarl, the Wolf rose and launched himself, making the raft spin wildly as he landed like a boulder in the river. Fighting the current, he struck powerfully for the shore, ignoring the debris that slammed into him, the water rushing over his body, failing to drag him down.
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