Girl of Flower and Flame

Chapter Thirteen

It was an exhilarating feeling riding such an intuitive creature. Brunhild was like nothing she'd ever experienced. Eulalia held on tight to the reins as Brunhild trod on patches of frozen snow. Ice crunched beneath the reindeer's hooves, but never once did she slip, easing Eulalia's nerves. In little time, the manor had disappeared behind them.

A grove of looming trees bordered the road, darkness and shadow whirling around mangled trunks and the underbrush, casting an aura of forbiddance to anyone who dared venture into its depths, a severe contrast to the sunlight playing off the snow, making it shimmer like granulated pearls. A flicker of movement caught her eye on her right.

Eulalia did a double take, swearing she'd seen someone, several feet from them, but she blinked by mistake and the brush stilled. She had the peculiar sensation that the creatures within were wide awake and watching. A shiver slipped down her back.

"What are these woods called?" she asked Cosima, who had her head tilted, sunning her dark skin, which was like velvet, not a blemish in sight, except for those scales glimmering in the light like stained glass.

"We call this Gambol," Cosima said, "for the faeries that revel and could dance you to an early grave."

"Gambol," Eulalia repeated, casting her gaze on where she'd sworn she'd seen something but saw no one. Unnerved, her knees had locked into Brunhild's sides too hard, making the reindeer grunt in displeasure.

"I'm sorry, girl. I'm just a bit weary that's all." Eulalia stroked the thick fur on Brunhild's neck, deciding to fix her mind on more pleasant thoughts, away from faerie revels, graves, and whatever else dwelled within those woods.

She began to hum a song she'd heard her mother singing early mornings while she made her and Sylvie breakfast. She remembered the way steam rose from the cream morning buns, could almost savor the hint of cinnamon on her tongue. Humming soothed her unease. They'd been out for a half hour.

Pain pinched her inner thighs, so unused to being on a reindeer. But pestering the maids, especially that Everlid with her condescending tone and looks of disdain, would make the trip even more unbearable. She chose to bear the discomfort, readjusting herself on Brunhild's back as she sung another hymn.

"You have a lovely voice," said Cosima.

Eulalia's face grew hot. "My mother taught me that hymn in a way."

"And how is she?"

"Very much dead I'm afraid."

Her mother's beautiful face, still unblemished from years of motherhood, and her soothing voice, like liquid starlight, settled in her mind. And her papa, he was always there to put a smile on everyone's face as handsome and lion-hearted as he was.

Another spell of pain struck her, this time in the chest.

"She left you with a beautiful voice," Cosima said. "The merfolk would be jealous."

It took a moment for Eulalia to register what Cosima had said but by the time she did the moment had passed. The rest of their journey went by in silence. Time slipped away like wind through the moors. Eulalia hadn't noticed when Everlid had stopped, pulling the reins as she and Brunhild almost drifted into Godelyn's rear-end.

They were at a cave in the side of a mossy hill.

"We'll be going through now," said Everlid. "This cave will take us on a straight path into town. Just be quick about it and ignore all that you hear. The will-o-the-wisps are pesky."

Everlid's words made another chill sweep through Eulalia. She gulped. What manner of creature lived in this cave, she didn't want to know, but she had no choice but to follow, shooting a weary glance behind her before coaxing Brunhild after Cosima and Everlid. Darkness pressed in on her. The cave breathed damp, foul smelling air. Stones crumbled beneath the reindeers' hooves. Other than her breathing, this was all she heard.