Landmoor

Thealos nodded. “How do you know so much about this?”


“I’ve told you that already.” Smiling, the Sleepwalker put his hand on Thealos’ shoulder. “I am a Sleepwalker. I’ve been to the Druid vaults of Parath-Anatos. Even to the Shae archives in Avisahn…and Landmoor. That’s why I never make it a practice to kill a Crimson Wolfsman. The last man left of a quaere is strong and quick enough to kill even a Sleepwalker. Remember that.”

“So you don’t think the Wolfsman can follow me through the bonding?”

“If they could, you would share the connection. You would be able to see them as well. Do you?”

“I hadn’t thought of that. Oh for Hate’s sake – I’m going to have to start learning to trust you,” he added with a reluctant smile. “I suppose you wouldn’t abandon us deliberately, and it would be much harder to free me from Nordain’s cell if you are wrong, and I won’t be much help to anyone locked up.” He saw Jaerod’s smile and sighed. “Now how do I find Castun? We’re on the shores of the Valairus and the Shadows Wood is west…”

“Follow the coastline, but keep near the trees. You won’t mistake the Shadows Wood. It’s too big to wander by, even with all the cover in the valley floor. Now be careful. The Kiran Thall have increased their patrols in preparation for the invasion. Don’t let them find you. But they are looking north for trouble, not east. When you reach the forest, follow the north border until you reach the Iron Point Road. Castun is right there.” He gave Thealos a warm smile. “I’ll meet you at the Catpaw in a day or two. The owner will be watching for you.”

“Do you have any more Everoot?” Thealos asked. “We might need it.”

“You can hold it for now,” Jaerod answered, reaching into his belt for the wet bundle. “Just remember to keep it wet with fresh water. Every day.”

“I will. Be safe, Jaerod.”

The Sleepwalker looked at him and nodded before turning and vanishing into the thick mist. Thealos stared after him, trying to pick him out of the haze and gloom. Clutching the moist bag, he stuffed it in his vest and started back towards the camp.




*



For hours, the wind surged across the slate-gray sea in the black of night, and shortly before dawn, the sky began to brighten – a little. Thealos awoke to a light pattering of rain from the leaden skies. He had only dozed lightly during the night, huddled beneath a cloak and blanket for warmth. Rising, he shook out his things and felt the stinging slap of brine on his hands and neck. The fog was inland now, reaching far into the valleys and troughs. He was anxious to reach the shelter of the forest, even one with as dark a reputation as the moors of the Shadows Wood.

“A bright and cheery morning has greeted us,” Thealos drawled, jostling the sturdy Drugaen until he stirred. He chafed his hands to dull the sting of the cold. Flent awoke with a yawn and a belch. Thealos gently rocked the serving girl’s shoulder and she awoke, her dark hair windblown and straying from its colorful tether.

“It’s cold,” she murmured, staring at the billowing mist.

“We don’t have time for a fire, I’m afraid,” he apologized. Thealos opened his travel sack and withdrew some provisions to share. “Not as good as the roast goose last night, but maybe we can convince Flent to share some of his chickpeas.” They ate the meal in silence, chewing on the hard biscuits and salt pork without any relish. Flent washed his down with a cup of ale. As the Drugaen and the serving girl packed up their things, Thealos used sapple-dust on the ashes and buried them in the sand with a trowel. Dusting his hands, he slung his pack over his shoulder and strung his bow. He tested its pull and nodded, satisfied.

“It’s a long walk,” Thealos said, “But if we make good time, you’ll soon enjoy a feathered mattress and cushions in Castun. We should reach the Shadows Wood before nightfall and Castun the next day if we hurry.”

“Good enough, my lord,” Ticastasy said, brushing her arms for warmth. “Let’s walk.”