“Oh, I know this place,” Micah said. “This is Blackhall territory. Maybe that man is a Blackhall.”
We moved toward a wooden door at the base of the mountain, yet the arrow on our device’s screen was not pointing there. Rather, it was pointing us toward the meadows on the other side of the range, beyond which lay more trees.
Micah sniffed around the door. It was a good thing that his sense of smell was unparalleled even in his human form. “They came right up to here. I’m guessing that they went inside. Though if the device is correct, they must have left again. Perhaps they just stopped for rest or refreshment.”
Where is that wolf taking her?
“Should we ask in here?” I suggested. “Someone in here may know where they’ve gone.”
“Yes,” Micah replied. “We should.”
“What do you know about the Blackhalls?” Vivienne asked.
Micah shrugged. “My pack never had many dealings with them. I hardly know anything, other than they’re strong, resistant wolves.”
Micah hammered his fists against the door. We stepped back, waiting with bated breath.
The door creaked slowly open to reveal an imposing bearded man dressed in the garb of a guard—his chest plated with armor, his belt loaded with blades.
“My name is Micah Kaelin,” Micah said, extending a hand.
The guard refused to shake it. He looked at him suspiciously, then at us. “What brings you here?” he asked Micah. “Who are these people?”
“We are searching for a human girl whom I believe might have been captured by a member of your pack. A werewolf stopped by here with a human, didn’t he?”
“Yes,” he replied. “Bastien Blackhall.”
Bastien. So that’s his name.
“Where did they go?” Xavier asked.
“I do not know,” the guard replied.
“There must be somebody here who knows,” Micah pressed. “I would be extremely grateful to you if you could allow us inside.”
The guard chewed on his lower lip, but then with a grunt, he nodded. “Very well. Perhaps our ruler would like to speak with you about the matter. I will see if His Highness will grant you a reception.”
We bundled inside the grand entrance area before the guard led us up a stone staircase, along winding corridors illuminated by torchlight, until we emerged in another vast chamber. It was some kind of royal court, based on the rich furnishings and two empty thrones on a raised platform at the other end.
“Wait here,” the guard said.
We wandered about the hall a bit, gazing around at the unusual tapestries. I found myself gravitating toward Heath as he approached the thrones.
Then the guard returned with another man, a tall, slim man with light blond hair, crested with a crown. He wore an earth-colored waistcoat, and other than his crown, he was not exactly dressed like royalty.
“I introduce to you our ruler, Detrius Blackhall,” the guard said with a flourish.
Detrius’ gaze was curious as it moved over us. “You have come to inquire about my cousin?” he asked.
“Bastien is your cousin?” Micah asked.
Detrius’ face darkened. “I hate to admit it, but yes. He is my scoundrel cousin.”
Scoundrel?
“He was here just a matter of hours ago with a human, correct?” Micah went on.
“You are correct,” Detrius said heavily. “Alas, he would not stay with us longer so we could talk sense into him. May I ask why you are so bent on finding them?”
“She is my daughter,” Vivienne breathed. “Talk sense into him about what?”
“About insisting he keep your daughter with him, even though she is clearly innocent. He has made her his concubine.”
A chill ran down my spine. Xavier and Vivienne blanched.
“Oh, no,” Vivienne raised a palm to her mouth. “No.”
“I suspected she might be the daughter of a hunter, and the last thing we need is for those men to come after us. He would not listen, and fled with her during the night.”
“We have to leave,” Xavier said. “Now.”
“Can you confirm which direction they went?” my grandmother asked.
“Across the meadows and into the woods,” Detrius replied. “If you find him, would you be so courteous as to drop back this way and inform me?”
“We can’t promise that,” Micah said. “But thank you for your help.”
“Understandably,” Detrius said. “You know, it could be a long journey. Can I equip you with some water? Food?”
We all looked at each other. More water would not be a bad idea. Heath and Jeriad drank a ton.
“We will accept water if you can provide it quickly,” my grandfather replied.
“Certainly,” he said, before addressing the guard: “Come.”
They left the room and the guard returned within ten minutes, carrying copper flasks of water. He handed them to us and we stuffed them into our backpacks.
“His Highness wishes to reiterate it would be wise to find your daughter as quickly as possible.”
Without another moment’s delay, the witches vanished us from the court.
Victoria