Free Enchanted Moon (Moon Magick Book II) by Amber Scott Page B

say why. Only that Ailyn must find it,
and that it would not kill her.
    She’d like to kick something. Or scream the building
frustration out of her lungs until every last twittering bird fled from the
crazed woman invading their wood. She should turn back and demand a few answers
from her liege. In fact, that sounded a much smarter plan, indeed.
    Aye. Ailyn halted, nodded at nothing in particular,
and spun around. “Back whence we came, Ailyn. Mayhap we’ll learn a mite faster
next time your future queen violates her own mother’s laws.”
    Who was to say that Maera wasn’t simply sending her
away to avoid questions? She did know of the wolf, though. Ah, wolf be damned!
It was long gone by now.
    Certainly a wolf would not impact Maera’s survival.
Certainly Quinlan would have returned by now with his healer. Her stomach did
an odd flip at the thought. Would she find him there, at Maera’s side, concern
drawing lines on his too-handsome face? She increased her pace. The wolf could
find her. She felt foolish to trust Maera—to be fetching it at all.
    She had followed Maera’s orders blindly once again,
and possibly to both their detriment.
    She set off in the direction she’d come.
    What was Colm constantly telling her? Follow your
instincts first, Ailyn. Follow them even before following the queen herself. Of
course, it would certainly be easier to follow instincts if she had any.
Instead of instincts, she had questions. What and should and perhaps were what
her gut told her. Not do this or do that. At the moment, naught but hunger
gnawed her belly.
    She had no business becoming a member of the queen’s
elite guard. What had Tullah been thinking, appointing her to it less than a
year ago?
    She’d been too happy to be away from Kristoph’s daily
ogling to care at the time.
    Kristoph was far, far away now. He could not touch her
here. Yet the weight of his interest still came down on her. Not even the
perfumed air could lighten the emotional load. She needed rest. She missed her
own bed. She was done with Maera’s games. The princess would be telling her the
truth, or Ailyn would in fact leave her here to rot.
    Maera might be willing to abandon her people, but
Ailyn was not. She would return with what she knew and help where she could.
Even if it meant facing the queen’s aide she feared and loathed.
    She breathed in, hoping to calm her flurrying mind.
Then the sweet, scented air gave way to a pungent odor that any hunter, guard,
or wandering child would instantly know. A feral smell.
    Danger. Ailyn slowed her pace.
    The wolf.
    Her body wanted to run, but her wits won out. Her
vision roved over the foliage, the brambles, and the leaves for signs of
movement. A low hissing sound met her ears, sending the hairs on her neck on
end. Everything in her said this was not the wolf. This was worse. Was this the
thing Quinlan had run from?
    Heat flashed over her neck. Ailyn swallowed against a
wave of nausea and ran. She willed her feet to move as swiftly and surely as
they could carry her—back to the clearing, back to the cliff’s edge.
    To Maera.
    To Quinlan.
    To safety.

 
 
 
 
 
    Chapter Seven

 
 
 
    She would not make it. Within a furlong’s distance,
she recognized her body’s limitations. She’d have to face it again—and
this time, find the courage to slay it. She put her dagger in her hand, weaved
left, and halted into a crouch. The wolf followed suit, slowing, crouching, and
baring its long fangs. The morning light filtered through the boughs. Shafts of
light hit its dark coat. Not black at all. More like an ashen gray.
    Only rarely had she seen a wolf in the southern
kingdoms she and the other guard patrolled, and never in her childhood. The
eastern lands she grew up on boasted several breeds of dangerous felines, but
no wolves. She’d never encountered a lone wolf face to face. The beast’s low
growl grew softer as it neared her, zigzagging as though it was as suspicious
of her as she