“Is it true you found out about the changeling stone while you were in Vernow?”
Dimitri’s eyes go wide, and his face becomes ashen. “Who told you that?”
“And that you searched me out just so you could get it?”
Dimitri shakes his head, his jaw locked. “I don’t know who told you that, but they were lying.”
“No, Dimitri. You lied to me.”
“You are not the same girl I met in Primewood,” he sneers.
“Perhaps I’m not, but it’s your fault.”
He growls and stands. Without another word, he strides from the tent. My feigned indifference crumbles as soon as he’s gone, and I bury my face in Pika’s fur.
How could Galinor leave me?
I was a fool to think I was in love with Dimitri. I now know what love feels like—and at the moment, it feels like pain and despair, longing and loss. But as mad as I am with Galinor for leaving, I just want him to come back.
“Lady Anwen?” someone calls from outside the tent.
Two gypsy men enter and both look at Pika uncertainly. The taller man steps forward. “Dimitri has asked us to collect the glasseln so she can be fed.”
“Absolutely not,” I say. “She goes nowhere without me.”
“You may come as well,” the man offers, his voice a little too smooth.
I know there’s a trick somewhere, but I’m not sure what it is. I won’t let Pika go off alone, but if she doesn’t go, they might not feed her.
“All right,” I agree, and I attach the lead to her collar.
I let Pika out first; the men follow behind me. Pika sniffs the air and then immediately goes to a small pile of meat near the tent. It’s not enough for a full meal, and I’m about to tell them as much, when an arm goes around my neck, cutting off my air.
Pika eats happily, not realizing what’s going on behind her. The other man grabs the lead from my hand, and my attacker drags me back into the tent. My vision begins to swirl with little black dots.
“We won’t hurt her as long as you cooperate.” The gypsy releases his grip just enough I can gasp in a breath.
“What are you doing with her?” I demand.
“We’re locking her up,” he answers. “We can’t have a wild animal chasing Dimitri out of his own tent.”
“Dimitri is a snake,” I spit out. “I swear the next time I see him—“
I don’t have to wait long, because he walks in. I lunge at him, but the other man holds me back. Though I kick and scream, he doesn’t let me go.
“Do you think this makes me happy?” Dimitri asks, frustrated. “Do you think I want it to be like this between us?”
“Tell him to let me go, Dimitri,” I hiss.
Dimitri motions for me to be released. The man tosses me on the cot and steps away before I can turn on him. He leaves when Dimitri dismisses him.
I stand and straighten myself. “I’m leaving. Give me the stone and bring me back my cat.”
Dimitri comes forward and rests his hands on my arms. “I can’t let you do that, Anwen.”
“What is this?” I throw my hands in the air. “First you leave me, and now I’m your prisoner?”
“Of course not,” he says, trying to soothe me. “But you’re so distraught right now; you don’t know your own mind.”
“I will never love you,” I snarl.
His eyes are hard, and then he begins to morph forms. I recognize the motion—I’ve done it enough myself—but what he changes to almost brings me to my knees.
Instead of Dimitri, now Galinor stands in front of me.
I squeeze my eyes shut. “Stop it!”
“Perhaps you’ll like me better like this,” Dimitri demands, his voice changing with the rest of him. He shakes me, his fingers digging into my skin. “Is this what you want?”
“Stop!”
His voice, his words—I know it’s Dimitri, but it sounds like Galinor, and it’s terrifying.
He grabs the back of my head and attempts to kiss me. I wrestle to get away, screaming, and then he slaps me.
I stare at him, shocked he actually hit me, and as I do, he freezes.
“Touch her again, and I will kill you,” a hard voice behind Dimitri promises. “Let her go.”
Dimitri steps away, revealing Galinor—the real one—standing behind him. His sword is pressed against the gypsy’s back.
“Galinor,” I gasp. “You came back.”
My knees are about to buckle with relief, but, somehow, I stay standing.
Galinor’s eyes meet mine, and I have to work hard not to run to him. I’m not sure what Dimitri will do if I bolt. He still has the stone.
Galinor meets my eyes. “I should have never left.”
My heart stutters, and I swipe away tears that have gathered in my eyes.
“They have Pika.” I turn to glare at Dimitri, who has thankfully changed back to his regular self.
Galinor smiles. “Not anymore.”
“You can’t have her,” Dimitri spits out, motioning to me. “Anwen is mine.”
“She was yours. Then you left her,” Galinor answers. “Take off the stone and hand it to her.” He puts a little more pressure on the sword for emphasis.
Dimitri turns to me and glares. “I would have given you everything.”
Behind the anger, there’s pain in his eyes.
“You tricked me. You lied to me. You made me think you loved me!”
“I do love you!” he yells, his face red.
I step back, startled. “This isn’t love.”
Apparently, we’ve pushed him too far. He clenches his jaw, and I know from his grimace it’s going to be a large change.
“Watch out!” I yell, but I’m too late.
Dimitri’s eyes grow large first, but the rest of him follows quickly behind. He screams in rage and agony when the transformation from man to ogre is complete. Galinor is startled by the change, and he loses his concentration for a moment. That sliver of time is all Dimitri needs to lunge in his new form.
I scream, which is useless, but I can’t stop myself.
Galinor recovers quickly, and he darts to the side just in time. Dimitri barrels past him and into a tent support. The tent crashes down around us, and the fabric falls over our heads.
“Anwen!” Galinor yells.
I scramble for a way out, knowing I can’t have Dimitri find me first. I finally find the edge, and I slip underneath.
I had hoped Dimitri would still be tangled in the fabric, but he’s out and already going after Galinor. Dimitri is massive, but Galinor is skilled. Now that the initial shock has faded, he moves quickly and without hesitation. But as I watch him, I can’t figure out what he’s doing. If he’s trying for Dimitri’s neck, he’s doing a poor job. Horrified, I study his moves.
He doesn’t mean to kill the gypsy. He’s going for the chain the stone hangs from.
Around us, spectators and gypsies watch the fight with wide eyes. Several have gone off screaming that an ogre has invaded Triblue, but the others don’t seem to care where the ogre came from—they just want a good show.
Having decided the ogre form isn’t working, Dimitri changes again. He yells as he sprouts feathered wings and then leaps into the air. The crowd screams and backs away from the griffin. Several cheer, probably thinking this is a magnificent staged act.
Galinor watches patiently, waiting for Dimitri to strike. He seems more unconcerned about this form than the last. Dimitri finally dives. Galinor narrows his eyes, planning his attack, as he studies Dimitri circling in the air. When Dimitri is so close I think he’s going to claw Galinor’s eyes, Galinor’s blade meets Dimitri’s wing.
Dimitri falls to the ground, and Galinor stands over him, his sword pointed at the animal’s chest.
“Change back,” Galinor demands. “And fight me like a man.”
The crowd murmurs.
The insult is too great for Dimitri’s pride, and slowly the fur and feathers disappear as he transforms back
to human. He clutches his arm. Blood pools from the wound, and it’s more grotesque on the man than it was on the griffin.
Galinor motions for Dimitri to stand. “Get up.”
Dimitri’s face twists in rage, but with Galinor’s sword pointed at his chest, he has no choice.
“Someone fetch this man a sword,” Galinor says, his voice even but deadly.
It’s only moments before a man from the crowd deposits a sword in Dimitri’s hand. Galinor retracts his blade. “Do you know how to fight, gypsy?”
Dimitri screams and charges Galinor. It’s what the prince expects, and he steps aside, leaving Dimitri stumbling into the air as the crowd laughs. The gypsy rights himself. Again, he swings the sword at Galinor. Galinor easily blocks it.
The display goes on until Dimitri is so winded he can barely move. I’m almost embarrassed for the gypsy.
Finally, Galinor takes pity, knocks Dimitri to the ground, and places his sword next to the gypsy’s throat. “It is over. Give me the stone.”
Breathing hard, Dimitri scans the crowd. When he finds me, he shakes with fury. His eyes lock on mine as he takes the chain from around his neck. Galinor moves the blade away just enough the gypsy can remove the changeling stone.
I breathe a sigh of relief once it’s over Dimitri’s head, but then he smiles and grips the stone in his fist.
My blood goes cold.
“Dimitri, no!” I yell, but it’s too late.
The man I thought I once loved smashes the fragile stone on the ground. I scream and fall to my knees. No one around me understands what he’s done. No one save me and Galinor.
Dimitri gloats in his victory, screaming a battle cry of glee even as he’s at the end of Galinor’s sword.
Galinor tenses, his muscles twitching as he fights to control his rage. Through clenched teeth he says, “From this point on, you will stay away from Anwen.”
Dimitri leans over and spits on Galinor’s boot.
The crowd collectively gasps, and I stare at the scene as well, wondering what Galinor will do.
The prince leans down, his sword still trained on Dimitri, and uses the gypsy’s vest to wipe his boot clean. “You don’t want me for an enemy. Do you understand?” His voice is eerily calm, and even the hair on the back of my neck stands on end.
Slowly, he retracts the blade and sheaths it. He comes to me and pulls me off the ground. The crowd parts as we leave Dimitri bleeding, but alive, in the Triblue square.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Primewood
Rosie gives me a big, awkward hug. “You’ll be all right?”
I nod and try to smile. She frowns, but she doesn’t know what to say any more than I do.
The mandatory goodbyes are awful. Just as going home empty-handed is awful.
Dristan surprises me by wrapping his arms around me. “Remember, you must come back in the spring when we collect the foals.” He holds me at arm’s length. “Or sooner, if you need to.”
“I will,” I answer.
Less eloquent than his brother, Bran only pats my back. “Goodbye, Anwen.”
I don’t even want to look at Marigold. She’s been crying since I returned, and seeing her tear-stained face might just do me in. I turn to her anyway.
She throws her arms around me. “Oh, Anwen, I’m so sorry.”
I pat her back and assure her I’ll be fine. I’m not sure who’s soothing whom.
Finally I move to Irving. He raises an eyebrow and extends his arms. I fall into them. He reminds me so much of home; I’m afraid I’m going to lose my calm any moment. I back up quickly and pull away.
He flicks a curl out of my face, his eyes understanding. “We’ll be home just after Teagan shows Marigold the journals from Lestonia.” He says the last word in a mocking voice, and he glares at Galinor as if it’s his fault Teagan has taken a liking to Marigold.
Galinor rolls his eyes and shifts next to his horse. The prince has offered to take me to Primewood while the others return to Glendon, and I can’t delay my return any longer. I wish the group could come with us, but my aching heart is glad for the solitude.
Irving gives Pika a farewell scratch, and Rosie cuddles Danver close to her chest. When she lets the fox out of her arms, I turn to Galinor and take a deep breath.
“Are you ready?” he asks.
I say I am and move to Mara’s side. I stroke her soft cheek, and she nuzzles me. Dristan, Bran, and Irving returned her and Pika to me while Galinor was facing Dimitri.
Galinor gives me a leg up, and I raise my hand to our party. They return the gesture, Marigold blinking back tears and calling a last farewell. Knowing I can’t take anymore, I nudge Mara toward home.
I manage to hold my own tears back until we’re well out of Saltwreath, but inevitably, they come. Stoic by my side, Galinor says nothing.
We’ll be in Primewood in about six days, and then it will be another two days to my home. How am I going to face my father? How will I look him in the eye after what I’ve done?
I glance at Galinor after most of the tears have ebbed. “What do I do?”
He meets my eyes and gives me a soft smile. “You apologize.”
I shake my head, tilting my head up to the brilliant sky. “It’s not enough.”
“Will you mean it when you say it?”
“Of course.”
He reaches between our horses and squeezes my hand. “Then it’s enough.”
My head is so filled with possible outcomes that we ride in silence until the sun is high in the sky. Galinor finally nudges his horse toward a shady spot so we may rest. At his insistence, I accept a sweet roll, though I am not really hungry. Danver sniffs it but then settles next to Pika.
“You came back for me.” I whisper, unable to meet his eyes.
“I shouldn’t have left you.”
I tear tiny pieces of crust away from the bread. “Why did you?”
“He seemed sincere.” He shrugs and looks past me at the trees. “I couldn’t imagine you would rather stay in the company of a failure of a friend when the man you said you loved was groveling for your return.”
“You are not a failure,” I argue.
I want to tell him how I feel about him. I open my mouth to start, but then I close it again. I don’t know how to begin. Besides, he just called himself my friend. Maybe that’s how he thinks of us.
Friends.
A soft, warm breeze blows through my hair, and I close my eyes. Triblue wouldn’t be a bad place to live. It’s warm and balmy, and I do like the ocean. Maybe, like Rosie, I should stay. Fling away my title and heritage and become a washing-girl or handmaid.
It’s not like I can fix anything by going back now. And really, does my family even want to see me again? I don’t know why they would.
“Galinor,” I say, weighing my words. “What if I don’t go back?” I stroke Pika’s soft fur as I wait for him to answer.
“You need to do this. It will be all right.”
“What if it’s not?” My eyes search his. “What if they hate me?”
“I’ll be right by your side.”
I blink back a few stray tears. “What if they don’t want me?”
His expression softens. “Then I will take you away.”
***
Only a few more days and we will cross the Primewood border. The weather is cooling the farther north we travel. We’ve left tropical Triblue and are now in autumn weather. The days are pleasant, but the evenings and early mornings are downright cold.
My mind keeps wandering back to my confrontation with Dimitri. I felt so helpless, so completely at his mercy. It’s not a feeling I wish to repeat.
“Galinor?” I ask as we ride.
He looks over, surprised I’m initiating conversation. I haven’t felt as talkative as usual.
“Remember when you asked if I could defend myself back in Lauramore?”
Galinor grins. “I distinctly remember you telling me you scream loudly.”
I nod, a sm
ile playing at my lips. “Do you think you could teach me something? Like how to use a sword?”
“You want me to teach you to use a sword?” There’s laughter in his voice.
I scowl. “Not a big sword. A little one.”
“Like a knife?”
“Never mind.” I wave my hand. “It was a foolish idea.”
Galinor pulls his horse to a halt and leads it off the road.
I follow him. “What are you doing?”
He gets off his horse and waits for me on the ground. “It’s not foolish.”
I glance at the sun, which is now high in the sky. “You want to start now? Right now?”
Galinor waves me over. “We have time today. We’ll reach the next village well before dark.” He smiles reassuringly.
He offers me his dagger. I take it from him, but it feels heavy and awkward in my palm. I try to hand the weapon back. “This was a bad idea.”
“No, it’s a good idea.” He steps to me. “You’re holding it wrong. It’s not going to bite you.”
I try to mimic the way he shows me, but the dagger slips from my fingers. I reach to catch it before it falls to the ground.
Galinor steps forward. “No!”
Luckily, I don’t grasp hold of it, but I do nick myself.
I examine my hand. “You were wrong. It does bite.”
Galinor shakes his head, trying to hold back a laugh, as he looks at my hand. There are a few tiny droplets of blood forming down a small slice on my finger.
“Don’t try to catch a falling knife,” he says.
I pull my hand back.
“Let’s put it away for now.” He picks the blade up and slips it in his sheath. “Now listen. You don’t need a weapon to protect yourself.”
I cross my arms and scowl at him.
He grins and rubs his hands up and down my arms. “I’m not going to teach you anything difficult. If someone comes at you, I don’t want you to be nice, you understand?”
“All right.”
Why would I be nice to someone attacking me?
Galinor steps forward. “There are several areas you can do the most damage easily: eyes, nose, groin, knees, and neck.”
I chew my lip, nervous.
“Gouge them in the eyes if you can.” He shows me how to arrange my fingers. “Use the palm of your hand and thrust it upward into their nose.”
Anwen of Primewood Page 17
