The Obsidian Pillar

Chapter Seventeen

My dreams were plagued once again by that familiar shroud of darkness. The same silvery glow at its centre eyed me hungrily. Every time I tried to look away from it, the silver mass followed me, never wanting to be out of my sight, craving my attention. I woke, lashing at the blanket that was pinned beneath my body, hot and weary.

Later that morning I stood awkwardly with Ronov while he scrutinised the dryads. He hadn't bothered to wash or comb his hair and his unshaven face was becoming a grizzly accumulation of copper and grey stubble. What I found particularly strange about Ronov was that he didn't seem accustomed to sleeping indoors. I heard him leaving the hovel before sunrise, unable to sleep while the pattering of feet upon the soft ground around the house tormented him. He was like a chained-up dog being teased by a roaming cat who was clever enough to know how close to tread without being caught.

He spat on the mud, grimacing as though his distaste for the island had manifested itself inside his mouth. He was impatient to leave. I glanced side-long at him while he glared at a group of dryads who passed by. They regarded him from a distance, their golden eyes shining menacingly. They were all at least three inches taller than him. I would have bet that they were stronger too.

Dalton finally appeared, swatting the gossamer curtain away as it clung to his rough shirt. His war hammer swung at his side weightlessly, glinting at us in the sunshine in greeting.

Ronov and the giant nodded to each other in the warm morning air and stood collectedly, watching the clearing while Sona made her way through the young dryads that fluidly parted for her to pass, cowing their heads obediently.

I looked around for Sebastien, but he was nowhere to be seen. We hadn't spoken to each other since Sona's demand that we travel north. With Rainah. The thought turned my stomach. I was in no rush to be anywhere, but Sebastien wanted to return to Vakaaria, and my behaviour meant that we would be on another detour further away from his home.

Sona raised an eyebrow while she appraised us, seemingly unsatisfied. 'Where is the boy?'

'Inside,' Dalton mumbled frostily. He was less than impressed with the lady of the forest. Ronov merely watched her impassively.

I smoothed my worn dress down. I had done my best to wash some of the dirt from it with an old cloth and fresh water, but most of the grass stains remained. The tears and holes on the skirts would need stitching at some point. I blushed when I realised how grimy and pitiable I must have looked to them.

There was a sudden silence. Someone had appeared at my shoulder.

Sebastien had taken his time in readying himself. I saw that his eye was still bruised and that he held his injured arm close to his body. Sona hadn't healed him as she had healed me. Perhaps he had struggled to dress with only one good shoulder? I thought better than to offer help to him after the advice Dalton had given me, although it still riled me. How anyone could be upset after their life had been saved, by a woman or not, was ludicrous to me.

I had fought sleep for hours after the meeting with Sona. Sebastien did not return until the early morning light had begun to filter in through the leafy ceiling. I watched him slyly with one eyelid open as he crept inside. I had no idea of where he had been or with whom. It bothered me more than words could say, though I had tried to ignore my thoughts and rolled over countless times in an effort to dislodge him from my mind.