He narrowed his eyes, the back of his neck prickled as he wondered whether she could read his mind. “Who are you, Lissa?”
She smiled and there was a hint of mystery behind the sensual fa?ade. “I’m a guardian. And these are my woods.”
Just then a foul smell permeated the air, the stench of decomposing flesh and rancid blood. It was a rotten stench and made him gag.
She however, seemed completely unaffected. “It’s just the Ogre, as I said. See.” She pointed straight ahead to where a bridge had suddenly appeared as if from thin air.
It was made of a massive knot of brambles and ivy and Aeric wasn’t certain whether the thing was even safe to walk upon.
Stabbed into the ground beside it was a wooden sign that read: Halt ye who dare to trespass on the Ogre’s bridge. But it wasn’t the words that caused a shudder to ripple down his spine; rather it was the flecks of dried blood splattered upon it.
He lifted his brows, looking around for the green skinned brute. Lissa peered over the edge of the steep drop off that the bridge spanned.
“Looks as though Druselda isn’t here. How very strange,” she murmured to herself.
“Druselda? The ogre I’m assuming?” Aeric turned to her.
Muttering something that sounded like an assent, she started across the bridge.
“Woman,” he growled, instantly wary. Everything just felt off to him. Which was no wonder when one walked through Wonderland, but how could a guarded bridge be empty? If there was one thing he knew about beasts was that they guarded their territories with their life. “Something doesn’t feel right.”
“I agree.” She nodded wide-eyed, but shrugged out of his grip and continued her forward march.
Realizing he either had to join her or be left behind, he reluctantly followed.
The bridge was sturdier than appearances would lead one to believe. The winds, that’d been balmy and gentle just a second ago, now slammed into them. Causing the bridge to sway precariously.
Gripping onto the railing with a white-knuckled intensity, and overcome with a very sudden and serious case of vertigo, Aeric stopped. “Lissa, I think we should find a way around. Something has died here.”
And that was no exaggeration. The stench was cloying at this point, making his eyes water. The wind and the smell, it was making his stomach want to revolt. He wasn’t normally so weak willed, but he didn’t like this. And if there was one thing Aeric trusted above all else, it was his innate sixth sense that’d seen him through quite a few near scrapes.
Her footsteps were lithe and agile, her pert little bottom flexing with each step. He had to admit, the view wasn’t so bad and did help a very little to distract from the constant pitching of his stomach.
“There is no other way around, it’s this way, or no spring. And you’re running out of time, so come on.” That said, she turned and picked up her pace, almost to a jog.
Her voice might sound nonchalant, but judging her bearing, the way her back was stiff and her movements increasing in speed, she was likely as nervous as he. Maybe even more so.
Moving as fast as he could, Aeric tried to catch up to her. But now the stone was hindering his speed. The closer he moved to the center of the bridge, the more powerful the smell became, until finally when he stood dead center he realized why.
The brambles were coated in a viscous red fluid and there were gelatinous bits of dark globs scattered all around.
He grimaced, recognizing a kill when he saw one. Judging by the massive amount of quivering flesh and the sheer volume of blood, whatever had been killed here had been huge.
Maybe even ogre size.
“Gods,” he breathed, pinching his nostrils shut as he rushed from the massacre as fast as his hobbled leg would allow.
Getting to the other side, he stepped off the bridge with no small amount of relief and looked at Lissa. She was staring at the bridge with a question in her eyes.
“Do you think that was—”
“I don’t know, Aeric.” She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
They didn’t talk about it again.
Lissa couldn’t understand how the man had come to be in her woods. He’d been making so much noise it had drawn her attention, especially the fight he’d engaged in with the demon woman.
He was a good-looking man, as far as human men went. He had a broad forehead and an aquiline nose. Blue eyes the color of permafrost stared back at her framed by a thick set of dark eyelashes. He reminded her of a fabled Viking warrior from the medieval ages. She had to admit to being rather besotted by Earth’s tales of great men and their wondrous myths.
“What are you looking at, girl?” It was obvious he wasn’t in a good mood, he’d been scratching at his stone cast for the past few hours, thankfully they were close to the waters now.