Thread of Darkness

Ch. 31: what are those things?

This, Anna thought, had to be one of the stupidest things she'd ever done. And that was really saying something.

She sized up the horse. Lightning was munching on dandelions, tossing his large black head whenever a fly settled on his ear. Fang scraped a hoof along the ground. The horse looked, Anna reflected, like he could rip your head off and use it as a football; then again, Ryne's horse was a lot like its master.

She took a tentative step forward.

Fang stilled.

"Good horse." Slowly, Anna extended a hand. "Nice horse."

Fang made what was undeniably a growling noise. Anna paused.

She dug in her pockets, extending an apple towards the horse. "I don't suppose I could tempt you with this?"

Fang looked at it, sniffed, and turned his head back towards the castle. The sun was sinking low, impaling itself on the iron turrets and bleeding red through the sky. Eris and Tristan stood by the door, speaking to Brigid in low tones. The latter was fiddling with a lump in his pocket. An explosive, no doubt. Anna turned away.

"Look," she said, "it's either me or Eris. Take your pick."

Fang's ears pricked up.

"Ah." Anna took a step closer. "That's what I thought."

She extended a hand. This time, Fang let her touch him, albeit reluctantly; he had the air of a long-suffering mother letting a toddler pull her hair. Anna patted his neck. "How long before Eris tries to murder me, d'you reckon?"

Fang's dark eyes were unfathomable. Anna sighed.

"Yeah," she said. "I'd give it three days, too."

She was mad, Anna thought, offering Fang the apple again. Certifiably mad. Nobody sane would go on this six-day excursion with a bloodthirsty psychopath and a pyromaniac that had once spiked her drink in a tavern. And yet...

Fang chomped on the apple. Anna patted his head.

And yet, she had to find God-Slayer. It could be the only thing standing between her and an early grave. Plus, Anna thought, slightly more cheerfully, she might have the opportunity to drown Eris Delafort in a pond.

Yes.

That would be worth the trip.

"Oi! Annalise!"

Eris was striding towards her, his black coattails flapping behind him. He was wearing that ridiculous top hat again, the silver knife peeking out from the top like a feather. His boots were new. Shiny. Anna raised an eyebrow.

"Are we going camping," Anna said, dropping her hand, "or to a travelling circus?"

Not her best work. Still, Eris's mouth tightened.

"You're riding with me," he said.

She smiled. "I don't think so."

"Look around, Annalise." Eris swept an arm. "There are three of us. Two horses. Fang and Lightning are the fastest steeds we have; it'll take days to procure another one that can keep up with them."

Anna crossed her arms. "Why don't you and Beauchamp ride together?"

Tristan — who'd been in the process of eating a pear — made a choking noise; it was hard to say who was more horrified by this suggestion. Eris shook his head. "Don't insult my intelligence." His green eyes glinted. "You need supervision."

"Fine," Anna said. "Then I'll ride with Tristan."

Tristan looked at her as if she'd suggested wading into the moat, finding a slug covered in sores, and licking it clean. He muttered something uncomplimentary, yanking on a large strap on Fang's rigging. Eris stroked his chin.