Chapter 37

The Stag's muscular legs fought to gain ground as he carried the Hunter and the Gypsy Witch up the hill, struggling to keep his pace. They were almost to the top, the dark-wood archway looming over them as the Mighty Stag huffed and puffed.

"You can do it, old boy. We're almost there," the Hunter urged the beast on until they burst onto the flat-stone platform. He quickly dismounted and helped the Gypsy down. "Quickly, get his saddle off. He needs to breathe and walk a moment." The Hunter slid leather out of the buckle and dropped the girth and giving the stirrup a pull, he caught the full weight of the saddle against his chest. "Gypsy, help!"

"Hunter." She stood stone still, looking off the hill over the division between Spring Meadows and the Summer Sanctuary. All the color had drained from her face, and she looked like she was about to cry. The Hunter dropped the saddle and supplies and tried to see over the glare of the sun.