Rustling leaves. My eyes snap open. Dathid's asleep next to me. A twig cracks. He jumps to his feet. I try to jump up too, but my leg is too stiff and up in an awkward squat.
"It's Goutadge," he says.
Someone the size of a rhinoceros is at the edge of our camp, and neither of us heard her approach. I roll to my back and take a deep breath. I feel my entire body shaking but show no evidence of it as my steady hands slide my knife back into its sheath. Images flash across my brain of the last time the three of us were together in the woods.
From somewhere in the woods, Solara's disembodied voice says, "Okay, you can put me down now." I hear her thump to the ground before I see her pop out from behind Goutadage. "Are you guys okay?"
"Yeah, we're fine," Dathid answers as he lifts me to my feet. "Did you find anyone else?"
She shakes her head and plops her pack by the fire. "No, everyone's staying put. They're all locked down and ready." Spiny thorns cover them. The ones coating Goutage's long face look especially painful. "We went out the back. Not a good idea. The only thing that saved us was her thick skin. How you feeling?" she asks Goutadge.
Goutadge lets out a loud wail as she drops to all four legs. I think it means dreadful. I'm happy she's here, but without Jonah, communication is a problem. She grunts as she ambles over to me like a bull in armor. I automatically start pulling thorns from her snout.
Other than the time Goutadge licked my eye, I've never touched her. Her skin is rough like sandpaper and speckled in blues in pinks. From a distance, it's sky blue, but up close, it reminds me of the countertops in my kitchen in Queens. Auntie's kitchen—that was a prison, not a home. She tries to help, but she breaks more thorns than she pulls because her fingers are too thick. After what I believe is an argument, she agrees to stop and stands patiently while I work my way around her massive body.
Dathid helps Solara. With so many thorns in her back, it looks like she's grown fur. How can such a tiny body withstand that much poison? She's done pretty quick because her back and ankles took the brunt of the vines. Once those areas are clean, all three of us pull thorns from Goutadge.
When we're done, Solara limps over and hands me a small sack. "We got what you need."
I look inside to find the Orb and plaque resting at the bottom. "Where's the other one?"
Solara sends a panicked look to Dathid. "I thought there were only two."
"Agatha, only you could see the other plaque," he says.
Solara lets out a breath. "Whoa, scared me. I was trying to devise a plan to go back in." She slumps to the ground and washes her feet.
Dathid puts his arm around my back and squeezes me the way Jonah does. When did he learn that? "You okay?"
I guess I failed at hiding my confusion and disappointment. "Yeah," I answer, looking back in the bag—still only one plaque. "I don't understand. Carfron and his plaque are gone."
Goutadge roars out something that's supposed to be English. I feel bad she learned the language, but not the accent. Her melodic way of talking reminds me of bagpipes, or a cow, or a cow playing bagpipes. I recognize my name, but that's it.
Solara pours dirt out of her boot. "I don't think so."
"You understand her?" Dathid asks.
"Not all of it. But we've been working together for a while now, so we've adjusted to each other's ways."
"What did she say?" he asks, surprisingly polite. When did Dathid get patience? And niceness? And hugs?
"She asked if Agatha could make the other plaque appear. I told her I didn't think so."
YOU ARE READING
The Lost Knight (Volume IV) The Lost Prince
FantasyWIP Would love some Beta Readers
