Our procession picks up the pace the further we get from town. The houses begin to lessen until there are vast yards then patched farm fields. Cottages rest at intervals with their crops or cattle in wide open fields. The main road is well maintained, cleared of debris.

Recalling the novel, this isn’t much different from Aquilan’s kingdom of Bermersia. Suppose that makes sense. They are brothers and this was once all one kingdom, but based on the description of Daithi’s kingdom in the book, I expected some chaotic destruction. Maybe more smoldering castles with demons lurking around every corner? Dare I say it, I’m almost disappointed!

“Kaeda,” Rehan calls. “I imagine with your profession, you’ve traveled quite a bit? Have you ever traveled out of Vuirin?”

The real Kaeda has so I give a nod. Again, I curse the universe for bringing me back as a character with such little information. I’m not even clear on where she is from, what her age is, if she has family, barely anything other than her connection to Hagen and her greed.

“There are few places I haven’t been,” I reply, catching a glance from Daithi. He says nothing though. What’s worse, he likely knows more about Kaeda than I do, or I may be a little lucky and he’ll be a crappy employer that doesn’t give a damn and is as clueless as I am. Fingers crossed!

“What about you?” I ask to make conversation, and to hopefully ignore the growing numbness in my legs. Riding a horse is a pain. I’m not used to it.

“I was born in Vimico actually.”

Vimico, that’s...oh, Vesston’s kingdom? He’s one of the youngest, the eighth or ninth prince, I think. His kingdom is the farthest to the east along the coast, a narrow stretch of land that keeps to itself. A quiet place that doesn’t seem to suit someone as vibrant as Rehan.

“Really? How did you end up here then?”

“Enough chatter,” Daithi snaps. I stiffen at the sudden attention whereas Rehan pouts.

“Our apologies, Your Majesty,” he says, but doesn’t sound apologetic in the least. “I was getting bored.”

“Were you?” Daithi glowers. “Then scout ahead.”

“Whatever for?”

Daithi doesn’t respond and doesn’t repeat himself. Rehan pouts when mumbling, “Sometimes I think you don’t like me much.” He smiles at me. “We’ll talk more later.”

Then he’s on his way, galloping ahead to disappear into the treeline.

“Come here,” Daithi orders once Rehan is long gone.

I give Spot a little pat of my foot to speed up, but she doesn’t respond so I try a little harder. Apparently that pat is too much because she bolts without warning. I scream, clinging to the reins. She gallops faster and faster. My heart is about to burst from my chest. We breach the trees. My shouts echo in the forest. Birds flutter overhead in shock of my bellows. Someone is shouting behind me.

“Slow down!” Henley calls.

“I’m trying, she won’t listen!” I lie because, honestly, I have no idea how! Why was climbing the side of a castle easier than this?!

“Pull back on the reins!”

I do as I’m told, tugging hard. Spot comes to an abrupt stop. My sweaty hands slip and I go flying off the horse, rolling across the dirt with a few shouts. Everything hurts. The sun cuts in through the treetops, blinding my squinting eyes that adjust to the forest lighting. A shadow passes over me. Someone holds out their hand. It’s Daithi.

Am I hallucinating?

“Are you going to lay there all day?” he asks, having gotten off his horse to offer a helping hand. I don’t know how far I went. The path curves and the trees are now so thick that we’re encased by forest so I don’t see the procession behind him, only Henley perched atop her horse nearby.

“You reacted like you’ve never ridden a horse before,” he adds.

“She just wasn’t listening,” I grumble, hesitantly taking his offered hand. While I dust myself off, Daithi retrieves Spot, who dares to nip at his hair. He doesn’t seem to mind, though, patting her neck with a soft smile that vanishes as soon as he realizes I’m watching.

I try to get back in the saddle, but my knee throbs. Daithi raises a brow when I lean over to pull up my pant leg. There’s blood trickling from my now wounded knee. Ugh, great!

Suddenly, there’s warmth on my waist.

“H-Hey!” I shout when Daithi lifts me. I barely settle myself on the horse, sputtering who knows what as his hands leave but the heat remains. “I could have got on by myself!”

“A thank you would suffice.”

“...thanks.”

Daithi returns to his horse and moves ahead. Henley appears at my side with an offered handkerchief that I use to dab the blood from my knee. Then I chance shaking the reins, hoping Spot won’t bolt again. Thankfully, she doesn’t, but that may be because I’m shivering like a leaf as I catch up to Daithi.

“What did you wish to speak with me about Your Majesty?” I ask, hissing at the pressure against my sore knee.

“Traps,” he says. “You claimed there would be some. Tell me of them.”

In the deepest recesses of my mind, I wish to lie and lead Daithi to an early grave. But I don’t have the confidence that I’ll succeed, and I feel guilty at the idea of harming the others that are probably just working for him because they have to. Assisting him is really my only option right now. If I bring out the book I risk discovery or losing it. I can’t leave either. I don’t have the necessary skill set to survive in this unknown world. For my survival, I have to lay low, keep track of differences occurring from my involvement, and play along as best I can.

“We won’t reach any traps until we get close to Kresin,” I explain. Kresin is where Arlador resides; a small island off the southern coast with more sandy beaches than actual land. “First, there will be a water spirit guarding the shores.”

Daithi stiffens. Water is his kryptonite. Fitting that Aquilan is the water elementis of the family, the one meant to smother his flames.

“There’s no getting around it, not that I know of at least, so a battle is the only way. The map will lead us to a cavern and open the way into Arlador’s hidden chamber below the surface. The tunnels and waters are littered with flesh eating leeches and sirens.” They’re mermaids, but not the ones we heard of in sweet tales. They’re creatures of the water that call mortals with their songs or hypnotic voices, dragging them into the water to drown. “I’ll keep the rest to myself.”

He huffs.

“Once we get there, I’ll tell you more. Can’t have you trying to toss me aside once you get the information you need.” I offer up a smirk that he doesn’t return. Not that I expected him to.

Daithi is a man of a few words, or none at all, so our conversation ends as quickly as it started.