The Veil of Danu

Echos of the Crossroads (24)

The goblins worked with brisk efficiency, dismantling the camp as the rising sun cast weak light across the snow-covered plains. Their guttural chatter mixed with the creak of wooden wagons and the thud of heavy supplies being loaded. I stood off to the side, pulling the green cloak tighter around me against the wind's bite, unsure of where I belonged in the chaotic activity.

Theros's voice broke through the noise. "Come." His deep, steady tone left no room for hesitation.

I turned to see him standing by a sleek black Kelpie, its hooves pawing the snow restlessly. Its wild mane seemed to shimmer with an unnatural, water-like sheen, and its eyes glowed faintly, like embers barely contained. It was a creature of myth and nightmare, yet Theros held the reins as if it were nothing more than a stubborn mule.

"We ride," he said simply, gesturing toward the beast.

I swallowed hard, my stomach twisting. My hands clenched instinctively, the memory of the previous day's ride still fresh—the crushing grip of ropes binding my wrists and ankles, the sheer terror of being at the mercy of this monster of a man. But now, there were no restraints. The difference unnerved me as much as it relieved me.

Theros moved toward me, his massive hand outstretched to help me mount. But I stepped back sharply, the motion almost instinctive. "I can manage," I said coldly, shooting him a glare.

His hand hovered in the air for a moment before he let it drop. He didn't argue, only sighed and stepped back to give me room. "Suit yourself."

Clenching my jaw, I grasped the saddle's edge and hoisted myself up. The Kelpie shifted beneath me, snorting as if in protest, but I ignored it. Once seated, I straightened my back and shot him a defiant look.

Theros shook his head faintly, muttering something under his breath before mounting behind me with practiced ease. The saddle creaked under his weight, the proximity of his armored form making the air feel heavier. His gloved hands took the reins, and the Kelpie stilled, though its ears flicked back irritably.

The ride began with a jolt as the Kelpie leapt forward, its gait smooth but unnervingly fast. The world around us blurred into a swirl of snow and barren trees as the goblins followed behind in their wagons.

For a while, the only sounds were the Kelpie's hooves crunching through snow and the distant creak of the goblin caravan. The silence was unbearable.

"Where are we going?" I finally asked, my voice low and edged with suspicion. My fingers gripped the saddle tighter, though I tried to mask the unease in my posture.

"Aos Sí," Theros replied evenly, his tone devoid of inflection. "The Kingdom of the Seelie Fae."

I stiffened. "Why?" I demanded, twisting slightly to look at him. "What could you possibly need me for? Just release me—or kill me. Don't drag this out."

His hands tightened on the reins, the only sign my words had affected him. "You're alive because you're useful," he said, his voice calm but cutting. "Nothing more, nothing less."

I scoffed, anger rising like a tide. "Useful? To you? For what? I'm just a soldier, nothing special. Whatever plan you have, it's doomed to fail."

"Then you have nothing to fear," he replied smoothly, his tone infuriatingly even.

My jaw clenched. "You're insufferable."

"And you're reckless," he countered, the faintest hint of irritation creeping into his voice. "You'd rather provoke me than think about your own survival."

"Maybe I'd rather die than play along with whatever game you're running," I snapped, my temper flaring. "At least then I'd have some dignity."

Theros was silent for a long moment, the rhythmic beat of hooves filling the void. When he spoke again, his voice was softer. "Dignity means little to the dead."