otherworldly mist coming up once more to swirl around them.
Megan shook her head. For some reason her lethargy seemed to have vanished. So had her chills. Blood rushed back into her limbs, making them tingle and ache so that she shifted uneasily behind Kenric. Something about this place...
"It's magical." Kenric said flatly, letting her know that she had spoken out loud. "I like it not."
"The mist?"
"This place. I sense magic here. Somehow the sword has brought us to a place of magic."
She couldn't see what the problem was. After all, he had said his sword was a magical sword. It only made sense. "Do you think it will be warm?"
His face might have been carved from ice itself. "It does not matter. We will not go there."
The trees seemed closer, impossible to get through, either forward or back. Even if it was her imagination, she didn't see how he meant to turn Lancelot around.
"What are you going to do?"
"Go back." His voice sounded more frozen than the wind that howled outside the protection of their corpse of trees.
"How?" She leaned in close to him, her breath making a plume of frosty smoke on his cheek. "Back the horse out?"
His expression now left no doubt that was exactly what he meant to do.
"I will think of a way." He told her.
Megan cast one final longing look at the wall of trees, from behind which she imagined she could see a soft glow of warm light. Somehow she had no doubt the wall would somehow part for them, allowing them to enter the magical and safe - and warm! - place. Where this notion came from, she had no idea. But too much had happened to her recently for her to doubt her instincts now.
"I want to go there ." Her hand held remarkably steady as she pointed. "I'm cold, I'm tired, and I want to get warm. I don’t want to freeze to death in that blizzard."
After a moment of silence, Kenric laughed, a humorless bark of sound that seemed to echo in the still forest. "You speak with the tone of a queen."
She raised a brow the way she imagined a real queen, might raise it. "Maybe I am."
He did pause at that, cocking his head to study her.
"A queen?" He growled, looking annoyed and grim and maddeningly arrogant all at once. "Of what place, my lady? Perchance do you come from a place not of this world?"
Stunned at first that he believed her, it took a second
for it to dawn on Megan that Kenric thought she came from the realm of magic, the realm of what - faeries and elves? To her this seemed even more improbable and fantastic than the truth, at least the truth as she knew it - that she'd traveled through time. But this man carried an enchanted sword. To him, she had no doubt that faeries and elves were real, even if he seemed to loathe them. More real than the year 2010 could ever be.
"It all fits." Kenric breathed, fury filling his face. "Your odd attire, the strange words you use. You are not Welsh. You are from the land behind the veil, the place where some say my sword was forged. And you say you are a queen? Or maybe only a princess who aspires to become a queen?"
"No. I was just kidding." She refused to allow herself to panic. If this man, who seemed to abhor magic, truly believed she was some sort of elfin royalty, what would he do? Dump her to freeze to death alone in these woods?
She couldn't believe they were having this
Megan shook her head. For some reason her lethargy seemed to have vanished. So had her chills. Blood rushed back into her limbs, making them tingle and ache so that she shifted uneasily behind Kenric. Something about this place...
"It's magical." Kenric said flatly, letting her know that she had spoken out loud. "I like it not."
"The mist?"
"This place. I sense magic here. Somehow the sword has brought us to a place of magic."
She couldn't see what the problem was. After all, he had said his sword was a magical sword. It only made sense. "Do you think it will be warm?"
His face might have been carved from ice itself. "It does not matter. We will not go there."
The trees seemed closer, impossible to get through, either forward or back. Even if it was her imagination, she didn't see how he meant to turn Lancelot around.
"What are you going to do?"
"Go back." His voice sounded more frozen than the wind that howled outside the protection of their corpse of trees.
"How?" She leaned in close to him, her breath making a plume of frosty smoke on his cheek. "Back the horse out?"
His expression now left no doubt that was exactly what he meant to do.
"I will think of a way." He told her.
Megan cast one final longing look at the wall of trees, from behind which she imagined she could see a soft glow of warm light. Somehow she had no doubt the wall would somehow part for them, allowing them to enter the magical and safe - and warm! - place. Where this notion came from, she had no idea. But too much had happened to her recently for her to doubt her instincts now.
"I want to go there ." Her hand held remarkably steady as she pointed. "I'm cold, I'm tired, and I want to get warm. I don’t want to freeze to death in that blizzard."
After a moment of silence, Kenric laughed, a humorless bark of sound that seemed to echo in the still forest. "You speak with the tone of a queen."
She raised a brow the way she imagined a real queen, might raise it. "Maybe I am."
He did pause at that, cocking his head to study her.
"A queen?" He growled, looking annoyed and grim and maddeningly arrogant all at once. "Of what place, my lady? Perchance do you come from a place not of this world?"
Stunned at first that he believed her, it took a second
for it to dawn on Megan that Kenric thought she came from the realm of magic, the realm of what - faeries and elves? To her this seemed even more improbable and fantastic than the truth, at least the truth as she knew it - that she'd traveled through time. But this man carried an enchanted sword. To him, she had no doubt that faeries and elves were real, even if he seemed to loathe them. More real than the year 2010 could ever be.
"It all fits." Kenric breathed, fury filling his face. "Your odd attire, the strange words you use. You are not Welsh. You are from the land behind the veil, the place where some say my sword was forged. And you say you are a queen? Or maybe only a princess who aspires to become a queen?"
"No. I was just kidding." She refused to allow herself to panic. If this man, who seemed to abhor magic, truly believed she was some sort of elfin royalty, what would he do? Dump her to freeze to death alone in these woods?
She couldn't believe they were having this
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