A Queen of Gilded Horns (A River of Royal Blood #2) - Amanda Joy Page 0,37

Baccha had commanded during my first visit to this place—nothing happened. So I walked until I reached the tree line. I caught the distant gurgle of rushing water and pressed forward, ears straining.

It could only be Baccha’s river. And if I could find that, I might be able to find my lake and figure out a way back into my body.

Leaves lashed my skin as I kicked into a sprint and I slowly understood that this was not the forest I knew from other ventures into the mindscape. For one, the heat and damp made my mind spin, and vines thick as arms twined around the trees.

Soon I was lost, as sounds of the jungle rang in my ears. The harsh cries of golden monkeys, croaking toads, and singing birds sounded warped and hollow, like the howls of ghosts. All of it drowned out the soft gurgle of water.

I wandered so long that I nearly forgot what I was searching for . . . until I heard the river again. In a few breathless bounds, I stood at the banks of a wide river, the water so clear I could see jewel-tone fish and silvery eels at the bottom.

Now that I’d left the trees behind, the roar of the water was so great I couldn’t believe I hadn’t heard it before. Another trick of magick and the peculiarity of this place perhaps.

A certain hair-raising scent in the air—blood, musk, and the unidentifiable quality that was only Baccha’s—brought on acute longing and rage. Useless, lying fey bastard. He could have at least told me he was leaving after my nameday, but he had passed the message along through Aketo like a coward. After everything we’d endured, survived, and all the magick he taught me, he disappeared without even a word.

Missing him was a terrible waste of time, but he was the only person who knew about this place and might help me. Even if he was lost in the Roune Lands, the river and his scent were proof enough that the coalescence held strong. Months had passed since our first meeting and it was hard to believe I’d ever agreed to enmesh Baccha’s magick and his mind with mine. Our ability to communicate through the bond the coalescence created had drawn us so close. I hated that I missed his presence in my head and the emotions that flowed between us.

I screamed Baccha’s name until my throat was raw and finally dove into the river. He would have to come then.

The moment my body touched the water, the world around me changed.

Suddenly I sat astride a massive stallion. Whiplike shadows wafted from its glossy black coat. Snowdrifts tall as buildings rose around us. The horse eased along a narrow ledge, but it showed no signs of fear from the height.

The beast whickered and looked back at me, eyes rolling. Something about it tickled at my memory, but I was sure I’d remember if I’d ever seen Baccha riding a horse like this.

“What is it, old man?” a dark voice asked. I watched as pale, elegant hands adjusted their hold on the reins. Gold and black rings adorned the fingers. And legs much longer than mine were clad in well-worn leather trousers and boots with gold tooling.

I’d jumped through the river and into Baccha’s mind.

What is happening? I tried to speak, but the only sound that escaped me—the me that was somehow Baccha—was a croak of surprise.

The moment I noticed, Baccha seemed to as well. He—we—drew rein. He cocked his head.

And what are you doing here? Baccha’s musical voice echoed in my mind, his mirth and annoyance apparent.

Believe me, I’d be elsewhere if I could. Something has happened to me but I—

Our gaze lifted, scanning the horizon. Jagged cliffs rose around us, eating the sky. What I could see of it, though, was deep violet where it wasn’t filled with black clouds. There was no one and nothing in sight beyond the mountains. So he was going north, then. Back to the Tribe, but by order, or choice? Where are you?

Aloud Baccha tutted. “Oh, no, I won’t have you chasing me down. I’ll return to you soon enough. When I can. If I can.”

I need your help, Baccha. Come with me into the mindscape. I’m stuck—

“Sorry, love, I’m a bit busy now.” He reached out and patted the horse’s neck. My screaming filled both of our heads. He was not busy. He was mounting a cliff in the middle of nowhere on