Once Upon a Romance 02 - As The Last Petal Falls (39 page)

“Fine, but remember, I’m doing this under protest.”

Vivienne slung her pack along her back and then got down on her hands and knees, crawling slowly forward. When she was out of the brush line, she dropped even further, until her belly hugged the cold ground and she was pulling herself forward by her elbows. Grey Tip wiggled along just in front of her, showing her the path the other wolves had taken to cross the open ground.

On the far side of the boulders, she could hear the soldiers talking around their campfires. One or two of them were seated far enough around the edge on her left that if they turned their heads, they would be looking right at her. Her nerves were so tightly wound, it was hard to crawl slowly and steadily.

Torchlight came around the right of the rocks. Vivienne froze in panic. A sentry was patrolling the far side of the cairn, and in moments he would be close enough to spot her.

Grey Tip moved faster, scrabbling silently for the cleft in the rocks. Vivi tried to keep up, but she was still within view of the other men, and feared to move too fast. At last the curve of the boulders hid her from their line of sight. Getting to her feet, she threw herself the last few feet to the crevice and squirmed in behind Grey Tip, as far as she could.

Torchlight rimmed the edge of the opening, and Vivienne held her breath, waiting. No cry sounded, and after what seemed an eternity the light faded away again.

Vivienne sighed in relief, but on the heels of that relief came trepidation. Now she had to crawl after the pack.

She could feel the weight of the hillside above her, held up by the rocks she was scraping with the top of her head. Beneath her hands, the grit of small stones and cave dust shifted and ground into her palms. It was pitch black inside the cave, and for a moment Vivi was worried she might become lost, but it soon became clear that there was only the one narrow, twisting hole to follow. Ahead of her she could hear the wolves scrambling with their paws on the stone, and behind her was Grey Tip, nudging her with his nose whenever she paused. It was claustrophobic, and stuffy, and Vivienne came to the immediate conclusion that she didn’t care for it, not one little bit.

“Ouch!” Vivi’s forehead had collided with a large rock. Running her hands over the walls and the space in front of her, it seemed as though the cave ended. She was perplexed. Where had the wolves gone?

Behind her, Grey Tip whined. He nosed around her and batted his large paw against the earth, loud enough for her to hear. Vivienne felt down along the floor of the tunnel, and sure enough, there was a small hole, just large enough for her to squeeze through.

“I can’t.” Vivi’s voice sounded scared, even to herself. “What if I get stuck?”

The wolf gave a little coughing bark, and once more batted the ground.

“Easy for you to say. You know what’s down there.” Her words were defiant, but Vivi took comfort. It couldn’t be that bad if Grey Tip was laughing at her.

She felt around the small opening with both hands. The air beyond seemed cool to her, as though the space on the other side was well ventilated. There were no jagged edges to the hole, and she couldn’t feel a continuing floor on the other side, so with one last sigh she swung her feet into the opening and carefully lowered herself through.

A slight drop, and she was on the ground on the other side, apparently outside once more. A soft ambient light was shining on the cliff face in front of her, out of which Grey Tip was wiggling free. Around her on the ground was the pack, spread in a loose semi-circle, watching the softly swaying grasses that rose around them.

It was the grass that she noticed first. Then the temperature: cool, but not the chill of winter. When she cast around, trying to place where they were, she finally noticed the mists, curling among the grasses, floating in the air, shimmering with an almost tangible beauty in the silvery light. It was as though the very air glowed. Certainly, the light wasn’t coming from the sky; above her hung no moon, and only a few distant stars.

“Do I even want to know what just happened? Where are we? How is this going to get me to Fain?”

The whole pack began yipping with laughter, springing in the air, leaping in delight over her confusion. Then they dashed out into the field, dropping to their haunches just at the edge of visibility, barking impatiently as the mist curled around their tails.

“This is crazy.” She began jogging after them, and the wolves set out once more. “I can’t even begin to think of how to blame it on Max.” Then she picked up the pace, trying to close the distance between herself and her escort. More petals fluttered free in the wind and Vivi gritted her teeth. Her time was running out.

They ran through the cool twilight air. The long field grasses gave way to the springy heather of moors, which in turn became sandy dunes, and eventually, a long stretch of beach. Strange lights flickered in the distance, and out of the corner of her eye Vivienne saw odd creatures only half-there. When she turned her head to get a better look there was nothing but swaying grass, and a weird, wild laughter echoing around her.

More than once she tried to catch a glimpse of something she thought she’d seen, only to discover when she looked back that the wolves had disappeared. The first time it happened she panicked. The mists had swirled in, covering the ground at her feet and the land around her, and when she called to Grey Tip his bark seemed to come back at her from all directions at once. The tiny, swirling, guiding lights moved in just one direction, though, and when Vivi took a few hesitant steps after them she broke free from the fog, discovering that she had been in the center of the wolf pack all along. After that, every time she lost sight of the wolves she just followed the sparkles, and soon enough whatever visual trickery was afoot would fade away.

The beach became rocks that Vivienne and the wolves sprang along like giant stepping stones, until their feet touched down on a river bank. Here the wolves paused to lap at the water, but when Vivienne knelt down, Grey Tip pushed roughly in front of her. He nosed at her pack until she pulled out her water bag and took a deep draught, then he yipped happily and went back to the river.

“All right then. I guess I don’t drink the water.”

“Of course you shouldn’t drink the water, silly, but you mortals never remember that.”

“Excuse me?” Vivi whipped her head, looking for the source of the voice that had answered her.

“Oh, you heard me? Isn’t that fascinating.” A tiny, red fox trotted out from behind a tree that may not have been there before, then sat on his haunches and stared at her with interest. “I do like playing with mortals, but I’ve never met one that could hear me before.”

Vivienne’s mouth hung open.

“But you look surprised. Perhaps you aren’t too bright? I mean, really,” his small, furred head twisted from side to side as he glanced around, “you’re traveling through the Mist Country with Grey Tip’s pack escorting you, but you’re surprised at meeting a talking fox?”

“Grey Tip doesn’t talk!” Vivienne was finally stung into saying something.

“Not to you.” He seemed amused. “Wolves are such sticklers for propriety.” Grey Tip looked up and bared his teeth, but otherwise ignored the fox. “
I
like talking to you, though. It’s novel.”

Really, the little creature was charming. “Do you talk to all the mortals?”

“I always talk to the ones I play with, but, like I said, most of them can’t hear me.”

“What do you play?”

“All sorts of games. With children, I like to play the game where I run near their home, and when they chase me, I lead them back to the mists. That’s always fun.”

“Do you lead them home again?” Vivienne was suspicious.

“Of course I do!” He seemed sincere, and Vivi relaxed. “Sometimes when they get back their brothers and sisters have all grown up, though, and no one likes that.”

“What?”

“Oh, you know. Time passes oddly here in the mists. Sometimes faster, sometimes slower. Mortals get so upset by it, they’re such twitchy little things.”

Vivienne’s stomach sank. She pulled the rose from her bag, and sure enough, half the petals were gone. She scrambled up and over to Grey Tip, thrusting the wilting flower beneath his nose.

“We have to go! Now!”

He barked at the others, and they dashed off down the river bank. Behind her, she heard the fox call plaintively.

“Don’t you want to stay? I could take you to visit the Neverending Banquet! The troll that guards it hardly ever eats anyone…”

The rest of the fox’s words were lost as they sped away. Their path followed the river into the forest, where it crashed down over a giant cliff, creating a silver-touched rainbow from the waterfall’s spray. At the foot of the waterfall, nestled up to the churning waters, rested a small cabin and an even tinier stable. The wolves led her carefully to a narrow, spray-slicked footpath that wound down the cliff and led straight to the cottage door.

Halfway down the path, another petal dropped from the rose. It was caught by an errant breeze and blown into the swirling waters, where it disappeared from sight. Anxiously, Vivi examined the rose. Only three petals left. Urgency made her stumble and slip as she hurried to the base of the waterfall.

She knocked, but there was no answer. For a moment she considered turning away; her time was growing short. Then she saw the guiding lights, dancing along the door frame. She rolled her eyes in frustration as she opened the sparkling door. As mystical messages went, it was annoyingly vague.

Inside the cabin was a single room, much like Connelly’s still room at the keep. Herbs and dried flowers were bundled tidily and hung from the ceiling, and the walls were lined with shelves holding small, neatly labeled jars. In the center of the cabin was a large wooden work table holding a rough brown sack and a single sheet of paper. Curious, Vivienne drew near, and realized the paper was a note.

C—

As you requested. Although how you can drink the wretched stuff is beyond me. Proper tea is dried plain, with none of this bergamot nonsense.

—M

She laughed, and then looked around. She was sure the keep was running low on Connelly’s never-ending tea supply, but that couldn’t have been the only reason the wolves brought her here.

Idly, Vivienne paced along the walls, reading labels, trying to find the source of the lights. As she read she sounded out the names. Creeping Fig. Ground Cherry. Foxsglove. Mescal. Hemlock. Belladonna…

She stopped. Quickly she checked a few more jars, and then ran past the shelves, scanning the names. Some of the plants had medicinal uses, but
all
of them were poisons.

An idea blossomed in her mind. She pushed it to one side. She would examine it later, when she needed it. For now, she had to figure out why she had been brought here.

Behind her shoulder was the twin of the large wooden cabinet from Connelly’s still room. The guiding lights hung around it, motionless in the air. Curious, Vivienne tried the door, slightly surprised when it opened easily. Instead of a cabinet full of shelves, she found nothing but an empty space with yet another door on the back. Fumbling in eagerness, Vivi shoved open the far door.

There, in front of her, lay Connelly’s still room in the keep.

In her hand, another petal trembled and fell to the floor.

Vivienne threw herself into the still room and took off, running through the keep. She had to find Fain.