about beauty, had seen the stunning women in the village below the Black Castle. "You didn't tell me about any Esme," she whispered.
He angled his head to stare curiously at a fat tabby cat that watched them from beyond the bubbled windowpane of some prosperous tradesman's house. "I didn't know if the wind mage lived here still. Bard has been gone from this realm for many moons."
"A wind mage." Bard, I think I adore you.
"Here we are," their guide said at that moment, leading them to a small cottage surrounded by cheery blossoms closed up for the night. "Esme! We have guests! Put on the stew!"
Suddenly realizing how hungry she was, Liliana said nothing to counteract the man's order as they followed him inside - to come face-to-face with a round dumpling of a woman with red cheeks that turned white as soon as she glimpsed Micah. "Now look here," she said, though her voice shivered with terror, "I don't do no evil."
"Bard sent us," Micah said before Liliana could attempt to assuage the woman's fear.
Esme's mouth fell open. "Bard?" Collapsing into a chair, though the Lord of the Black Castle stood in front of her, she gaped. "I did save his life once and he promised to repay me, but to send the Guardian..."
Micah retrieved a velvet pouch from their pack of supplies. "Payment."
Esme watched as her husband opened the pouch to pour a tumble of rubies, emeralds and diamonds onto his palm. He, too, collapsed into a chair. Not waiting for an invitation, Micah took a seat, and so did Liliana.
"For this much wealth, my lord," Esme said in a quiet, worried voice while her husband ignored what was a king's ransom to close his hand over her own, "ye either want my soul or my life."
"Neither. Lily."
Aware of the couple looking at her with stark curiosity, this odd creature who walked with the dread lord, she said, "We need to reach the heart of the kingdom of Elden before midnight tomorrow. You speak to the winds?"
Esme swallowed. "I'm no powerful mage, milady. I can only whisper."
Her husband shook his head, pride in every sinew and tendon. "My Esme can get you halfway to that godforsaken kingdom - pardon my words, my lord, but that's the way it is - and from there, ye ask for two night-horses from her sister Emmy's husband." He paused. "Night-horses be temperamental."
"I'm sure we'll be fine." She knew the powerful animals would serve Micah, for he was as pure of heart as any creature of the land. As for her, oddly enough, most animals seemed to accept her, in spite of her tainted blood.
"Right, then." George rubbed his thumb over Esme's knuckles. "With the night-horses, you'll be in Elden proper by tomorrow eve, well before midnight."
Liliana nodded. "Thank you." Perhaps her actions in going to Micah had changed the future so events wouldn't come to pass as she'd foreseen, but she could not - would not - take that chance. Nothing would be certain - Micah's land, his siblings not safe - until her father was dead.
Not long afterward, having eaten a simple, hearty meal, they stood in the flickering shadow of a torch held by George as his rose-cheeked wife said, "If ye would stand closer to one another." She twisted her hands together. "Close as ye can. Otherwise, the wind might tear ye apart."
Micah wrapped his arms around her, strong as iron, as she slipped hers around his waist, his armor warm under her touch. Its presence confirmed her theory that the armor was created from his own innate magic. As such, it would protect him against her father - but not forever, for the Blood Sorcerer was a man malignant with the life force of innocents.
"Good journey, my lord and lady," Esme said, and lifted her hands.
Her face and that of her husband was obliterated by a tornado of wind an instant later, a tornado that ripped them from the earth and made them fly. If she hadn't been locked tight around Micah, she might well have been torn asunder in a spray of blood and flesh. As it was, she was aware of his body curving over her own in an effort to protect her from the punishing might of the wind.
Her Micah.
Strong.
Honorable.
Wonderful.
Liliana couldn't have said how long they traveled trapped within the windstorm, but she would've crumpled to her knees in the empty courtyard of what looked to be a small inn when the journey ended, had