Page 33 of Lady Knight and the Thief

“Once more, Lass.”

Gritting her teeth, Cypress glared at Torren, prepared to tell him to fuck off, she’d kill the thing her own way.

“Trust me, Cypress. Close your eyes once more.”

She snapped her teeth closed. But, with a forced exhale, Cypress closed her eyes once more, focusing on her breathing and the sounds of the surrounding forest.

Or, rather, the lack of sound.

Cypress first focused on ignoring the sound of Torren’s light breaths beside her. Then, when she could no longer hear him, Cypress cast her senses wide, listening for any signs of the Durdiddle, though she could do without the thing’s laughter in her ear.

Instead of pure, unbroken silence, though, this time, Cypress could hear the wind whispering through the trees, a prickle of apprehension over her shoulder. But she waited, standing there with her sword held loosely between her fingertips for the Durdiddle to attack first.

Cypress couldn’t have said how long she and Torren stood there in the middle of the darkened forest, back to back with their eyes closed. But, eventually, when Cypress felt that prickle of apprehension on her spine, the ripple of awareness speared through her body, and she moved, eyes flying open as her back bowed backward out of the way of the reach of those tufted, talon-tipped claws.

Torren moved immediately, sword moving in sync with Cypress’s as they each brought their sword down on opposite sides of the Durdiddle’s neck, and sliced. The Durdiddle’s head dropped from its shoulders, and green blood ran in rivers from the neck stump.

The Durdiddle’s body evaporated into black smoke before it ever touched the ground, the head with it. Then, the darkness shrouding the road lifted. The warm light of just after midday filtered through the canopy, bringing with it the now-familiar sweltering humidity of the southern forests and a cacophony of chatter from the surrounding wildlife.

Cypress took a breath, then bent to clean her sword in the grass near the horses. The blade, though, was clean, without even a drop of blood from the Durdiddle remaining.

“Ye did well, Lass. Surprisingly so for a human with their first encounter with one of the more violent Fair Folk,” Torren said while sheathing his blade.

Cypress grunted. “Don’t sound so surprised,” She said before sliding her sword into the sheath strapped to her saddle.

“Accept the compliment, would ye?”

“I will when one is actually given,” Cypress said when she was in the saddle once more.

Torren scoffed, then shook his head and mounted his horse.

“Just because I was surprised by the ease with which you–we handled one of the more feared of my kind, does not mean I think less of you or your ability. Even some of my strongest people wouldn’t survive an encounter with the Durdiddle, much less without a scratch upon them,” he said and urged his horse forward.

Now that the Durdiddle was gone, the canopy of leaves overhead didn’t feel so opaque– an impassible barrier. The sun dappled her skin once more.

Cypress glared at the space between Torren’s shoulders for a heartbeat too long, focused only on her hips moving with the smooth gait of her horse and the breath in her lungs before she replied. “Fine. Iacceptthe compliment.”

“Marvelous, Lass. Can we move on now?”

“What’s the matter? Have you gone too long without someone fawning over you, Princeling?” Cypress jeered, following closely behind him on the trail.

“Yup. You’re notfawningenough for me.”

She scoffed. “Oh, I’mso sorry, yourhighness.”

“See, that’s better.”

“Please. Tell me you aren’t like Cade and Caelith in that regard.”

“Do I really look like I care if people kiss the ground I walk on?”

Cypress considered for a moment. “No… I suppose not,” She said, urging her horse forward, and level with his. “How much farther until we reach the boundary of the Wylds?”

Torren shrugged. “Not too much farther, but we won’t reach camp until nightfall.”

Cypress signed, resigned to another day with her ass going numb in the saddle and her feet aching.

She passed the time by finding shapes in the clouds, tracking birds through the trees. Despite their newfound camaraderie, Cypress was wary of Torren and his motives. The male could not lie directly to her with the blood oath, but even Cypress could dance around the truth as well as the best of them. She knew better than to rely on the oath entirely.