The Veil of Danu

Strange Things in the Darkness (17)

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 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."

Her eyes gleamed as she took the pelt, running her hands over the thick fur. "A fine gift," she said, a hint of approval in her tone. "This will serve me well."

Kaida's expression grew serious as she explained the road ahead. "The next settlement lies to the north, just outside the city of Avila. It's a day's walk if the weather holds. The village folk are wary of strangers, especially those who come from the wilds. They've good reason—these lands have seen their share of trouble. But the city..." She paused, her eyes distant. "Avila's more welcoming. If you can endure two more days on foot, you'll find rest there under Lord Dayjin's rule."

I nodded, committing her words to memory as I packed my belongings. Nox watched Kaida closely, his pale blue eyes tracking her movements as she approached with a length of hemp rope and a sprig of leaves with a bunch of small red berries. She knelt and tied the rope gently around his neck, her hands steady despite the trembling in her voice.

"This will help keep the Fae at bay," she said. "Rowan wards against their magic. Old magic, powerful enough to give them pause."

The word caught me. Rowan. I studied the small branch as it hung against Nox's fur, its crimson-red berries a perfect match for the tree that grew back in Winlow—the Ro tree, as the villagers called it. A thought struck me, sudden and profound: the Ro tree and the Rowan tree were one and the same. My namesake, was tied to this ancient magic Kaida spoke of.

I didn't share the realization aloud, but Kaida caught the shift in my expression. She gave me a knowing look, though she said nothing.

As I tightened my pack and prepared to leave, Kaida rested a hand on my shoulder. "You've got a long road ahead," she said. "But you're stronger than you know. Trust in that."

Nox and I stepped outside into the cool morning air. The storm had left the world fresh and bright, the sky washed clean. Kaida stood in the doorway as we started down the path, her hand raised in farewell.

"May the Rowan protect you," she called after me. Her voice carried on the wind, lingering even as the inn faded from view.

The path north stretched before us, the mountains shrouded in mist. As Nox trotted ahead, his new ward swaying gently with each step, I felt the weight of something unseen settle on my shoulders. The road would bring answers, I knew that now. But it would also bring danger.

And I wasn't sure if I'd find the strength to face both.