Page 33 of Lucifer's Mirror
He’s got to be kidding.
I slowly sit up. I feel like I’ve been run over by a steamroller.
Another bang on the door. “Are you awake?”
“I am now,” I mutter.
“If you want some food before we leave, I suggest you move quickly.”
I pull a face at the door but swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand up. I find my boots and pull them on, then head for the door. I make a quick detour to the bathroom but avoid looking in the mirror.
In the kitchen, Khaosti and Zayne are sitting opposite each other in stony silence. I glance between the two of them. Khaosti looks seriously gorgeous as always. Zayne looks… not happy. His expression is sullen; his lower lip juts out, and his eyes are narrowed. But physically, he appears fine. Better than fine; his skin has a healthy glow, and his eyes are clear.
“Are you okay?” I ask as I take the seat next to him.
He grunts in answer—I’m not sure if it’s a positive or negative grunt. I flick a look at Khaosti and raise my brows, but he ignores my silent question. Thankfully, at that moment, Brown appears with a tray of food.
The smell of warm bread wafts in my direction, and there’s butter, cheese, and thick slabs of potato and onion omelet. I help myself and pour a cup of what I presume is tea from the big pot in the middle of the table. I tuck in and only glance up again when my plate is empty. Khaosti is sitting back in his seat, watching me out of half-closed eyes. Again. I wish he’d stop that.
Zayne is eating as well; whatever is stuck up his ass is not affecting his appetite.
“So we’re going to this city, Zandar Aurion. How far is it?”
“Eighty miles, more or less. Two days away. I hope.”
I groan as I imagine my aching legs after another forty miles. Besides, I’m really not sure I can walk that far in a day, but it’s not as though I have a better plan. At least I now have a chance to get some answers. Excitement fizzes through my blood. Suddenly, I’m eager to get going. I jump to my feet and look expectantly at the other two.
“Well? What are we waiting for?”
Zayne scowls, but Khaosti gets to his feet. “Nothing.” He sounds slightly amused. “Let’s go.”
I march to the open front door and step outside… Then I come to an immediate halt.
Horses.
Three of them. Brown is holding their reins.
“We’re riding?” I ask.
“Unless you’d rather run along behind us,” Khaosti replies.
“I don’t know how to ride.” At least, I don’t think I do. I certainly haven’t sat on a horse in the last three years, and I’m pretty sure Zayne’s never been near a horse. At least, not while I’ve known him. Except he’s already approaching them.
They’re all black—one with a white star on its forehead, one with a white sock, and the last with no markings at all. They’re beautiful, their coats glossy, their dark eyes watchful. Zayne runs his hand down the neck of the closest—with the white sock—and murmurs something quietly. He looks happier than he has since this whole thing started.
“You can ride?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I grew up in the country. I worked at a stable for a while.”
“Cool.”
Khaosti takes the reins of the horse with the white star and leads her toward me. She’s beautiful, and I hold my hand out to her. She snuffles me with her warm nose.
“Her name is Stella,” Brown says.
“Hello, Stella. Is it okay if I ride on your back?”
Khaosti shakes his head, but the horse nickers a soft reply.
