In the dim dawn light, Thealos led them westward along the shoreline, following the trail of the ocean. Thealos walked slowly enough to keep from being separated from them. The fog shied away completely around noon. Colors lit the valley in shades of green and umber with dazzling fields of yellow wildflowers and blue snap-weeds. Thealos carried the bow on his shoulder, inhaling the fresh scents. He didn’t let on that he’d never been here before, trusting in Jaerod’s directions and the rumored size of the Shadows Wood.
After stopping for a meal at midday, they continued over a wide range of inland hills. Thealos’ legs strained with the climb, but it felt good. Flent had the most trouble keeping up. His thick Drugaen legs were used to the flat streets of Sol. Beyond the third range of hills, a dense black-green forest swallowed up the prairie in front of them. The Shadows Wood. The only thing higher was the jagged outline of the Kingshadow Mountains behind it on the other side of the valley. Even from the top of the hill, they couldn’t see the other end of the wood.
“And I thought the woods of Avisahn were big,” Flent muttered, brushing his hands together as he panted. “We’ve bloody got to cross that?”
Thealos smirked and nodded. “It’s broad and ugly, Flent. But it is much smaller than the forests of my homeland.” The forests of Avisahn stretched the entire length of the Ravenstone Mountains. He felt a sudden pang of loss, remembering it. The Shadows Wood was probably half its size or less. Next to the bleached brown grass of the prairies and the green oak leaves, the dark tangled vine maple and cedar were ominous. Landmoor was somewhere on the southern edge of the forest, too far to see. He felt a small smile twitch on his mouth and wished he’d been able to send a courier to Nordain at that moment. So sorry I couldn’t respond to your summons yet, but the weather has been good and the scenery wonderful. The food isn’t as choice as the baking guilds, but then…you already knew that.
Pressing ahead, they reached the forest before sunset. In the Inland valley before the forest, Thealos had found drying mounds of horse droppings and long swaths of trampled grass. The trail led away from the forest. Kiran Thall horsemen, probably. Skirting the path, they came at a quick pace until they reached the tangled branches of cedar.
Trees loomed around them, punctuated by the angry clicking of beetles and flutter of ravens. Thealos let his heavy travel pack down next to a sapling. He gently crouched and touched the dry stabbing pine needles that carpeted the ground. There was a faint musty smell – the distant murmur of Forbidden magic. He had no idea how far away the sense was coming from, but it did not feel imminent. The forest was not friendly, and he could feel a certain hardness in the stiff crooked branches and the dead needles lying like a rug near the base of the trees. The forest was polluted. He wasn’t sure how, but there was something dark afoot. It felt distant, vague.
“Are we going to camp here?” Flent panted. His boots crunched the twigs and needles.
Ticastasy leaned back against a tree. “I’m exhausted. I’m used to walking, but in circles around tables. You must be used to this, young lord.”
Thealos brushed the scrub away and pressed his fingers against the dirt. Closing his eyes, he tried to sink into the Earth magic, to be one with it. The feeling was always stronger in the woodlands than in the cities. It nagged at him, familiar yet different. Breathing slowly, he tried to sift through his feelings, but they were too tangled, too conflicting. He tried to feel the presence of the Everoot, but something overshadowed it. Something Forbidden.
“Is he asleep?” she asked.
“Maybe he’s praying,” Flent muttered out of the corner of his mouth.
Thealos opened his eyes and glanced back at them. He rose and brushed his hands together. “A little further. I’m not sure I like the feeling of this place.”
“Further?” Flent asked, dropping his sack. “We’ve been marching…all banned day! My feet have earned a few blisters and I’ve got rocks in my boots the size of walnuts.”
Thealos glanced over at the serving girl. “Are you tired too?”
“I’m exhausted,” she said, folding her arms. “I thought that fourth hill was going to kill me.”
Thealos wiped his mouth and sighed. “We really should go on, but I guess we can stop here. This whole forest feels wrong. Now, do either of you know how to build a fire without giving off a lot of smoke?” They looked at him blankly. “Set a snare for a rabbit?”
The serving girl cocked her head. “We may be from the city, my lord. But we’re not fools. Flent, learn how to light the fire. I’d like to learn how to build a snare.”
*