Seventeen – 11

Jacqueline managed a shaky laugh behind him, a sound almost lost under the sound of their horses and the rushing wind.

Wolves howled behind them and ahead of them.  Cameron gripped his reins a little harder, fingers tangling in his mount’s mane, leaning forward over its neck.

We’re never going to make it in time.  Damnation, Neve’s never going to forgive me.

                I’m never going to be able to forgive myself.

The ground heaved and Cameron’s horse drew up short, screaming and rearing, on the very bleeding edge of panic.  Jacqueline shrieked as her horse tried to pull a similar stunt.  Her hand must have been firmer than his, though, because she managed to haul it sideways rather than having to fight not to be unceremoniously dumped to the snow-covered ground.

“What the hell is that?” she yelled as she got her dancing mount back under control.  Cameron swore as he gentled his own horse, having to trot it in a circle around Jacqueline’s before it started to settle.  He squinted down the roadway, detecting the dying afterimage of green light beyond the next hill.

“I’m not sure, but I’m willing to lay decent odds that it was Phelan.”

But was the Taliesin working his own magic, or was he the victim of someone else’s?

Something screamed ahead of them and Cameron cursed again.  The answer to that question no longer mattered.

“Move!”

He didn’t have to tell her twice.  Jacqueline kicked her horse into motion and pounded down the roadway ahead of him, toward the sound of howling wolves and other, stranger sounds that sounded distant and yet far, far too close for comfort.

Heart in his throat, Cameron set his heels into his mount’s ribs and the stallion took off like a shot in Jacqueline’s wake.

All he could do was pray they weren’t too late.

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