Chapter 4 Oakwood

Raina's POV

Otis stared at me as though I'd sentenced him to a lifetime of eating hay.

“You've got to be kidding me,” he said.

“I wish I were.” I rubbed my forehead. My father was still back in Aurelith, and I had no idea whether he was safe. Now I had to escort a talking donkey to another kingdom before I could even think about getting home.

Otis let out a long, miserable bray.

For a while, neither of us spoke. The sun beat down, and the silence made my frustration worse. I wanted to scream or sit down and cry, but instead I stood beside the most irritating creature in the world.

“If that's the only option,” Otis said at last, sounding as though the words physically hurt him.

“It is.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” He lifted his head and gave me a royal look that would have been impressive if he hadn't been standing on four hooves. “Take me there. At once.”

I folded my arms. “Only on a few conditions.”

His ears angled back. “Conditions?”

“One: you ask nicely. Two: you promise to convince your asshole family to leave magic practitioners alone.”

Otis stared at me. “You do understand that insulting the royal family is treason, don't you? I'm obliged to point that out, diplomatically, before this conversation becomes even more criminal.”

I snorted. “I could insult you all day and nothing would happen.”

“That is because you have already committed several crimes against me.”

“Then you have nothing to lose.” I shrugged. “Enjoying spending the rest of your life like this. And trust me, it suits you way better.”

He opened his mouth, apparently searching for a response, but nothing came. He looked so offended that I almost laughed.

Finally, he sighed. “Fine. I will try to convince them to stop persecuting magic practitioners. But I cannot promise my family will agree.”

“If they don't, I'll turn you into something else.”

His eyes narrowed. “What sort of something?”

“Poop, maybe. And this time, I'll make the spell permanent.”

Otis went very still.

“Fine, jeez,” he muttered. “I promise I'll try.”

“See? Was that so hard?”

I turned and started down the road.

“Where are you going?” he called after me.

I looked back at him. “We're leaving. Unless you plan to stand here all day and wait for the guards to find us again.”

He hurried after me, hooves clopping as he grumbled. We had no supplies, little money, and no clear idea how long the journey would take. We just needed to reach Oakwood and find the witch.

The sun grew hotter as we walked. Sweat gathered at the back of my neck, and my feet were beginning to ache when I heard wheels rattling along the road behind us. I turned and saw a cart approaching, driven by two men who looked like merchants.

Relief rushed through me so quickly I nearly jumped.

“Hey! Over here!” I shouted, waving both arms. “Could you give us a ride?”

“Shut up!” Otis snapped.

I dropped my arms and stared at him. “What is wrong with you?”

“You want to get into a cart with two complete strangers? You have no idea who they are. They could be assassins, thieves, or even—” His eyes widened in sudden horror. “Donkey hunters.”

I stared at him for a second. “Donkey hunters?”

“Don't laugh. I have no idea what people do with donkeys in this kingdom.”

“Probably make them work, which is more than you've done today.”

I headed toward the cart anyway. Otis followed, muttering objections, and I turned on him before we got close enough for the men to hear us.

“Listen to me. You're a donkey. Don't say a single word while we're talking to them. Nobody knows what someone might do if they find out they have a talking donkey.”

He looked deeply insulted, as if I had asked him to stop breathing.

The cart slowed beside us. Both men wore masks that covered most of their faces. I hesitated. Something about that made me wary, but the cart could save us hours of walking, and I needed to get this done and return to my father as soon as possible.

One of the men leaned forward. His voice sounded young. “Hello, pretty lady. Need a ride?”

I looked from one masked man to the other. I had no idea why they wore masks, but I couldn't spend all day questioning every stranger who passed.

“Actually, yes. Thank you.”

“Climb into the back,” the younger-sounding man said.

“Where are you headed?” I asked them.

“Oakwood. You?”

My face brightened. “That's exactly where we're going.”

“Then hop in.”

I thanked them and climbed into the back of the cart. When I looked down, Otis was still standing on the road, stamping one hoof and giving me a furious, warning expression.

I glared at him. “Get on.”

He shook his head.

I leaned down and hissed, “Otis. Get. On.”

He planted his hooves more firmly.

One of the men glanced at him. “Is your animal sick? He looks sick.”

“I'll show you who's sick, you—” Otis began.

I lunged down, grabbed him around the muzzle, and hauled him into the cart before he could finish. He struggled, kicking his legs against the boards, and I tightened my hand over his mouth.

“Are you two all right back there?” the man asked.

“Fine!” I said quickly. “He's just nervous.”

Otis glared furiously. I ignored him as the cart started moving again.

Thankfully, the journey to Oakwood was short. By the time the cart rolled into the marketplace, the sun was sinking and the sky had begun to turn orange. People still moved between stalls as vendors packed away their goods.

The two men exchanged a quick whisper near the front of the cart. I couldn't make out what they said, but Otis's head jerked up. His eyes widened, and he leaned close to me.

“Did you hear that?” he whispered.

“Hear what?”

“They're Richard's men.”

My stomach dropped. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Otis didn't answer. The cart came to a stop, and both men turned toward us with the same false friendliness they'd worn on the road.

“You two must be famished,” the younger one said. “Why don't we get you something to eat?”

“That's kind, but we're fine,” I replied, already shifting toward the edge of the cart. “We'd like to get going.”

A hand shoved me back down onto the boards.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” the man asked. “You should just tell us where you're—”

His mask slipped.

My eyes widened. That face. I'd seen him earlier, back in Aurelith, among the guards chasing us.

He snatched at his mask, fumbling to pull it back into place, but his partner rolled his eyes.

“Fuck it. Grab them. Prince Richard will soon be here.”