Page 31 of Fang & Fury

What a sight. The mist the waterfall created mingled with the drifting fog and the slashing rain. The water was turbid, frothing and churning as it moved swiftly past.

Ailsa cut her gaze to Fern. “What is this place?”

Black hair plastered to her scalp, the huntress grinned at her. “Eas na Beucaich … the ‘Roaring Falls’. This is where we stop for the day.” She cut her chin left. “Dismount and follow me.”

Exchanging glances, Kayla and Ailsa slid from their horses’ backs and led their weary mounts forward, following Fern, who had leaped nimbly from her stag’s back.

The stag didn’t follow his rider though. Instead, with a snort and a toss of the head, he disappeared like a shadow into the surrounding press of pines. Without a backward glance, Fern made her way up the riverbank, picking her way around boulders until she approached what looked from here like a solid wall of granite.

Brow furrowing, Ailsa struggled up after her, slowing to ensure that Rùn managed the rough terrain.

Up ahead, Fern halted briefly, stooped, and tore a handful of thick green moss from a boulder. She then moved on, shoulders rounded.

Ailsa’s gaze narrowed. Fern wasn’t one to complain, but that wound she’d taken back at the fort clearly bothered her.

She was just about to call out to her when the huntress disappeared.

Ailsa halted abruptly, blinking. “Fern?”

“Come on.” The huntress’s voice reached her, barely audible over the roar of the waterfall.

They were virtually under it now, and although Ailsa was already soaked from the rain, the thick spray coated her from head to foot.

Blinking water out of her eyes, she set her jaw and struggled up the final part of the slope, drawing Rùn behind her. And as she approached the spot where Fern had disappeared, she suddenly realized that the wall wasn’t solid after all.

This close, she spied a cleft in the rock, around four feet wide.

Darkness yawned within.

Breathing hard, she followed Fern into the cave, and as she did, weakness flooded her limbs.

By the Five … they’d actually done it.

All day she’d hardly dared hope they’d outrun their pursers, but they had.

This cave felt safe, but she remained wary all the same. Indeed, she tensed as she led Rùn farther in. There was something unnerving about walking into the dark and not knowing what lay inside.

She suddenly became aware of the thunder of her pulse, her and Rùn’s labored breathing, as well as the dull clip-clop of the stallion’s large, feathered hooves on the stone floor.

Behind them, Kayla’s muttered oath intruded.

They’d both trusted Fern so far, but where had she brought them?

Ailsa’s eyes strained to make out her surroundings, but the darkness was impenetrable.

Then, an instant later, light flared ahead.

Blinking, Ailsa saw that Fern had just lit a lantern on the floor.

The light that flooded the cavern tucked behind the waterfall wasn’t ruddy gold, as firelight usually was, but an eerie, cold silver. Normally, fire lighting was quite a process with flint and tinder, especially with the dampness in the air—but it had taken Fern bare moments to light it.

Ailsa stared, catching an odd scent then that reminded her of frying mushrooms.

Glancing around, she took in the brick-lined hearth in the heart of the cave surrounded by soft piles of fur. Bulging leather satchels lay against the damp walls.

Ailsa’s heart kicked. “What is this place?”

“A Shee refuge.” Fern gingerly started to unlace her leather vest before jerking her head toward the nearby hearth. It had already been laid with kindling and dry shreds of bark that would catch easily. “There’s a flint and steel over there … get a fire going while I see to this.”