Otherwise it wouldn’t hurt so much knowing I wouldn’t see him again.
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It shouldn’t have been Tristan, I thought. And then I hated myself for wishing death on Hunter. Even after he’d just broken up with me I hadn’t wanted him dead.
And now that he’d come back to the Middle Ages to help me, I was hoping it was his death and not Tristan’s that I’d seen.
I couldn’t run any farther. My legs were giving out. I sat down on the edge of the trail, breathless, my clothes clinging to me with sweat, and I waited for someone to come.
None of this was Jane’s fault, it was mine, and I was a horrible person because I wanted to see Tristan’s horse come down the path. I wanted Tristan to live. I wanted to run my fingers through his blond hair and feel his blue-eyed gaze on me. I wanted to kiss him.
I sat there for more than an hour. I called Chrissy, hoping there was something she could do. She never came. Finally I quit trying and just put my head on my knees and cried.
Then I heard horse hooves. One set. It might be someone else, I told myself, but I knew it wasn’t. I stood up and walked to the path, waiting to see which horse would appear around the bend in the road. I kept my gaze down so I would see horse hooves first, not a face.
The rider came on a dark brown horse. Hunter’s horse. I lifted my eyes and saw Hunter holding the reins.
Chapter 22
I stared at Hunter and couldn’t speak. Surprise flitted across his face and then concern. He doesn’t want to tell me, I thought.
“What are you doing here?” Hunter asked. “What’s wrong?”
I staggered toward him, my hands balled into fists.
“Where’s Tristan?”
And then I saw him. He sat behind Hunter on the horse. He leaned around to look at me, and although his face looked pale and drawn, he gave me a smile. “I’m okay, Savannah.”
If he had been on the ground I would have hugged him. I was tempted to pull him off the horse and do just that. Instead I just stood there, trembling and staring at him.
“What’s wrong?” Hunter asked again. “Where’s Jane?”
I tried to pull myself together. I let the fear and the worry drain away from me. “She’s fine. She’s back at the inn sleeping. I just came because we were watching from the church roof and when I saw the dragon eat a horse—”
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Hunter’s voice took on an incredulous tone. “So you were worried and came out to meet us, but Jane went to sleep?”
“She thought it was the pig. I didn’t have the heart to tell her differently.”
Hunter laughed and turned toward Tristan. “See, I told you it was pointless to make me sit in front.” Then to me he said, “Tristan wanted to make sure that Jane saw me first, so she wouldn’t think I’d been eaten. He thought she’d be worried sick by the time we reached the village.”
I looked at Tristan and he returned my gaze with serious eyes. Right then I understood that it hadn’t been Jane he was worried about, but me. He thought I’d want to make sure that Hunter was alive.
I took a step toward them and shook my head. “I knew it was Tristan’s horse.” I kept looking at his eyes, trying to see if Tristan realized what I was saying, but I couldn’t tell. His gaze remained serious.
“How did the dragon get a horse?” I asked. “What happened to the pig?”
Hunter shrugged. “You’ll be happy to hear that Mr.
Ogden is running free somewhere.” Tristan nodded. “It was harder to get to the lair than we’d thought. It’s all rocks and undergrowth once you get close. Not a good place to drag a cart.” 325/431
“We made too much noise,” Hunter said. “Before we’d even gotten to a place where we could tie the black powder to the pig, the dragon was roaring and bearing down on us. It went straight for Tristan, and nearly got him, too. He dove off his horse at the last second. Hurt his arm on the way down.”
For the first time I noticed that Tristan held his left arm close to his body. “I don’t think it’s broken,” he said.
“Just jammed.”
“When the dragon grabbed the horse, the cart snapped right off,” Hunter said. “And last we saw him, Mr. Ogden was hightailing it through the forest.”
“I’m mad it got my horse but I’m happy we had enough black powder in my saddlebag to do the job,” Tristan said. “Two quests down, and one to go. We’ve got the paw of the dragon inside Hunter’s saddlebag.
We’ll take it with us to the castle.” I looked at the saddlebag and noticed it had turned dark with moisture. “Great,” I said, and then turned my gaze before I started gagging.
Hunter looked back at Tristan. “Do we have room for Savannah on the horse? We ought to get going again.”
“I can walk back,” I said. “It isn’t that far.” Tristan gave me one of his stern looks. “You shouldn’t walk in the forest by yourself at all. I’ll go with you.” 326/431
But Hunter was already dismounting. “Not with your hurt arm. You need to get back to the inn and ice it. I’ll walk with Savannah.”
This solution didn’t appear to make Tristan happy, but he didn’t argue about it. He just nodded in my direction, took the reins in his right hand, and rode past us down the path.
• • •
There are many awkward places to be alone with your ex-boyfriend. Meandering through the forest in a medieval fairy tale gone wrong is high on the list. We hadn’t walked for two minutes before he was apologizing again about the way things had ended and for hurting me.
I would have loved to tell him that he hadn’t—he’d never meant that much to me to begin with—but it’s hard to pull off that sort of aloofness when a guy knows you wished for a prince to take his place as your prom date.
Finally I just came out and said, “Look, Hunter, I appreciate the apology, but you can stop now. I know it’s only been a few days for you since this happened, but I’ve been in and out of the Middle Ages for the last month. A lot has happened since then and I’m over you.” I didn’t add that I’d just been hoping for his death.
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“Oh,” he said with surprise. “Well, good. That will make things easier between us.” And it did, immediately. He visibly relaxed and the conversation felt almost normal as we walked. “So what did you do here for a month?”
“I learned to appreciate the twenty-first century.”
“Really? I think it’s pretty cool here—well, except for almost getting eaten by a dragon.”
“Two words: indoor plumbing.”
“But they’ve got awesome weapons here—look at this.” He unsheathed a sword that had been by his side and I recognized it as the one I had unsuccessfully tried to fight the cyclops with. “Tristan gave it to me. I hope I get to take this home with me.” I should have known Tristan wouldn’t give it back to me. Apparently he didn’t want me anywhere near a sword.
“And we get to ride horses,” Hunter said.
“And smell like them too.”
The time passed quickly as we walked and before I knew it the village was back in sight. I didn’t know when we’d ever be alone again so I said, “Hey, Hunter, I’m really glad you didn’t die back there.” He laughed like I was joking, but it was the truth.
• • •
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We found Tristan sitting at a table in the inn. He had his arm in a bucket of water. “It’s the closest thing I could find to ice. Feels cold enough anyway.” I sat down beside him, but he didn’t look at me. When I’d first come in, Tristan’s gaze had ricocheted between Hunter and me as though searching for something, but now he was pointedly ignoring me.
“When I go to the castle tomorrow, I’ll see if there’s a wizard around with some healing potion. I can’t face the Black Knight with only one arm working.” With the mention of wizards I remembered that I hadn’t told Tristan about Simon and the poison. I’d been so occupied with the cyclops, Jane and Hunter’s arrival, and then the dragon, it hadn’t crossed my mind at all.