The Veil of Danu

Strange Things in the Darkness (11)

The dream clung to me, its edges sharp as I woke in a cold sweat. My heart hammered in my chest as if it sought to escape. The image of the thorned crown and the knights red eyes, more vivid than any dream had a right to be.

Nox stirred beside me, his ears twitching. He lifted his head, his pale blue eyes glowing faintly in the dim light of the dying fire. For a moment, I swore he looked concerned. Could he sense it? The weight of what I'd seen?

I sat up, running a hand through my damp hair. The room was quiet except for the occasional crackle of the fire and the rhythmic pounding of rain against the roof. Yet the silence felt oppressive, as though the shadows were holding their breath.

The king's voice echoed in my mind, "Burn the entire human world if you have to." The words carried a malice that felt too real, too immediate to dismiss as a nightmare.

I stood, pacing the small room. Something about the dream felt more like a memory—though it wasn't mine. A warning, maybe, or a glimpse of something yet to come. Either way, I couldn't ignore it.

Nox padded over, pressing his cold nose into my hand. His touch steadied me, anchoring me back to the present. "You felt it too, didn't you?" I whispered. His tail wagged faintly, a hesitant answer.

I glanced toward the window. The storm hadn't let up, and the world beyond was still a blur of gray and black. But even through the rain, I thought I saw movement—a flicker of light too steady to be lightning. My breath caught, and I froze, watching.

There it was again. A faint, golden glow, bobbing like a lantern in the distance. My stomach knotted. The woman's words came rushing back: "Lights in the hills... whispers on the wind..."

I tightened my grip on Nox's fur. "We're not alone here," I muttered.

The glow vanished as quickly as it appeared, leaving only darkness behind. I stepped away from the window, my mind racing. Whatever was out there, it wasn't something I wanted to meet in the middle of the night.

Sliding onto the floor near the hearth, I pulled my pack closer, checking its contents. My Iron knife lay at the bottom. I hadn't used it yet, but its presence was oddly reassuring. I slipped it into my belt and leaned back against the wall beside my sword. As sharp and deadly as my sword was, only Iron could kill the Fae.

"We'll leave at first light," I murmured to Nox. "No matter what."

He huffed softly, lying down beside me, his head resting on my leg. I closed my eyes, but sleep didn't come easily. The king's throne of thorns, the soldier in black, and the phantom light outside stayed with me, intertwining with the howling of the wind.

Somewhere in the distance, I thought I heard a whisper.

Morning came with a break in the storm, sunlight streaming through cracks in the wooden shutters. The air felt lighter, as though the storm had carried away some of the weight hanging over the land. Nox stretched beside me, his tail thumping weakly against the floor as I scratched behind his ears.

Kaida greeted us in the common room with a steaming mug of tea and a small loaf of bread wrapped in cloth. "Travelers need more than luck to get by," she said, handing them to me. "And you'll need your strength."

As we spoke, I learned more about her role at the inn. "Kaida," she had introduced herself, her sharp eyes softening for the first time since I'd met her. "I assist those who pass through here. The wilds are no place for unprepared souls. I don't charge for what I give—coin is no use out here. But gifts are welcome. An exchange binds us, makes the road easier for everyone."

I thought of what I could offer and reached into my pack, pulling out the wolf pelt I'd carried since the early days of my journey. It had once been a symbol of survival, taken in desperation, but now it felt heavy, out of place. "This," I said, holding it out. "For your kindness."