Deanna pondered over Verial and his fate as she rode out with Quinn toward Shimmer Town, silently brooding on lost time. She had managed to wash and dress and rustle up breakfast before Quinn opened one eye and dragged himself out of bed. The man slept like the dead. Before he had even taken his first chilly morning breath outside the inn, Deanna had convinced the stable master to part with two of his horses. By convincing she handed him gold and ordered the horses saddled and ready to depart on her signal.
Ah, that would be the tricky part for though once upon a time, Deanna not only adored horses, but had her own stable filled with her personal favorites. These days, a horse would rather commit suicide before allowing the shifter to go near them, much less ride. Since she wasn’t above bribing animals either, the auburn haired woman presented both stallion and mare with juicy apples, a token of good will on her part. The male ate his without a second thought and nudged her for more. Typical. The female was far more intelligent and tossed her head suspiciously until Deanna soothed her with crooning words of praise and soft words of adoration. That worked. For the first time since this whole debacle started, they would ride. It made more sense, for at their pace walking, Verial would be dead before they even reached the Town.
She gauged that even on horseback, it would take about two days ride to Shimmer Town. From what she gathered from the Inn’s mistress, there was very little between Garis and Shimmer. Mostly plains of grass and more inland, the forest. The ride would be easy, but extremely dull. She was grateful for Quinn’s company, though twice before mid-day, she tried to convince the half-breed to turn himself around and return home. His replies had been the same, a firm no followed by his crooked smile to take the sting of the simple word, and that was that.
Her thoughts drifted from Quinn back to Verial. The sickness would have kicked in by now, surely. Had he been human, it could have taken as little as a few days from the time of infection for him to experience The Change, as she had. Excruciating pain were the only words to describe it. To feel your own bones break and reshape, your muscles and ligaments tear and reform, your own organs revamping to accommodate this new body of yours was nothing short of pure hell, and she had felt all of it. Slowly, painfully, one cruel breath at a time. Verial would no doubt experience The Change as she had, or perhaps not. Deanna considered that the hybrid had his dragon to contend with and somehow it managed to delay the virus from rapid infestation, so it might ease some of the pain from the transition. One could hope.
Verial was also under the assumption that once he rid himself of whichever were had infected him, he would be cured. Sadly that pretty thought hadn’t worked for Deanna. If Alastair Bluefield was indeed nothing more than a rotted corpse, well that theory failed completely, at least where Deanna was concerned. It didn’t matter. She had more than three years to accept her beast, and The Change, though it still hurt, was not nearly as bad as it had been for the first few months, nor as spontaneous. She could control it, shape it to her will, and shift only when she wanted to. She prayed Verial would suffer a kinder fate than she.
Deanna had decided that crossing the river just north of them, then veering slightly west before continuing on north would be their best travel route. She was more comfortable traveling in the forest, but she had to think of the horses and the grasslands would meet their needs. Besides, the open plains would give ample warning of any impending dangers, where the forest was filled with far too many hiding places. No, best to be out in the open to meet the enemy.
She hadn’t realized how quiet she had been until this moment. Quinn was kind enough not to harass her with questions or mundane conversation just to fill the silence. Perhaps he was lost in his own thoughts. She turned her head toward him, flashing him a smile as man and horse rode on without complaint. “You ok?” she asked. She noted that he appeared as well rested as she. She couldn’t speak on his behalf, but Deanna had slept the soundless and dreamless sleep of a woman who hadn’t rested properly in years, and she owed it to Quinn. Her smiled threatened to widen and she could feel the blood rise in her cheeks as she recalled the previous night and quickly turned her thoughts back to their travels. They were only a few hours into their trip, and were making good time, but the nagging feeling in her gut was telling her it wasn’t enough. She just prayed, for Verial’s sake, they weren’t too late.
Posted: Fri Dec 02, 2011 10:19 am
