Leaving the hollow with Ariel a, Puck, and Grimalkin, I was eerily reminded of another journey, one that was disturbingly similar to this. I believe the human saying was déjà vu, and it did seem strange, traveling with very nearly the same companions as before. Myself, Grimalkin, Robin Goodfel ow…and a girl. It was strange; not very long ago, I’d thought Meghan reminded me of Ariel a, but now, watching my old love glide through the mist as she led us out of the hollow, my only ref lection was how similar—and how different—Ariel a was to Meghan.
I pushed those thoughts away, focusing only on the task at hand. I could not let myself be distracted from my goal. I could not start comparing the two, the love from the past and the girl I would do anything for, because if I did I would go mad.
The Wolf joined us almost as soon as we left the hollow, materializing from the darkness without a sound. He sniffed Ariel a curiously and wrinkled his muzzle at her, but she gazed at him calmly, as if she had expected him. No introductions were made, and the pair seemed to accept each other without reservation.
Leaving the hollow behind, we made our way through a forest of thorn trees, bristling and unfriendly, with bits of bone, fur and feathers im-paled between them. Not only were the trees covered in thorns, the f lowers, the ferns, even the rocks were all pointed and barbed, making it important to watch where we put our feet. Some of the trees had taken 94/387
offense to our presence, or were simply bloodthirsty, for every so often they would take a swipe at us with a gleaming, bristling branch. I noticed, with a certain annoyance, that they left the Wolf completely alone, even moving aside for him to pass before taking a swat at me if I followed. After dodging several of these assaults, I finally grew tired of the game and drew my sword. When I sliced through the next thorny limb that whipped out at my face, the trees finally left us alone. For the most part.
“What is she like?” Ariel a asked suddenly, surprising me. She had been quiet up until now, wordlessly leading the way until the closeness of the thorns forced her to ease back, to let me go first with my weapon. A longbow of gleaming white wood lay strapped to her back—she had always been a deadly archer—but the only blade she carried was a dagger.
Caught off guard by her question, I blinked at her, confused and wary.
“I thought you already knew.”
“I knew of the girl, yes,” Ariel a replied, ducking a vine covered in thin, needlelike barbs. “But only f lashes. The visions never showed me more than that.”
Behind us, Puck’s gleeful whoop rang out as he dodged an attack, followed by the rustle of several trees that continued to swipe at him as he danced around. He was obviously enjoying himself, and probably stirring the forest’s ire to even greater heights, but at least his attention was elsewhere. Grimalkin had long disappeared into the thorny undergrowth, stating he would meet us on the other side, and the Wolf ’s dark form was padding ahead, so it was just me and Ariel a.
Uncomfortable with her scrutiny, I turned away, hacking through a suspicious-looking branch before it could lunge at me. “She’s…a lot 95/387
like you,” I admitted, as the tree rattled in outrage. “Quiet, naive, a little reckless at times. Stubborn as a—” I stopped, suddenly self-conscious, feeling Ariel a’s gaze on the back of my neck. “Why are you asking me this?”
She chuckled. “I just wanted to see if you would answer. Remember how difficult it was getting any real answers out of you before? Like pulling teeth.” I grunted and continued clearing the way, and she followed close behind. “Well, don’t stop there, Ash. Tell me more about this human.”
“Ari.” I paused, as memories rose up, both blissful and painful. Dancing with Meghan. Teaching her to fight. Being forced to walk away as she lay dying beneath the limbs of a great iron oak. A root took advantage of my moment of distraction and tried to trip me, but I sidestepped and moved us both away. “I can’t…talk about it right now,” I told Ariel a, whose sympathetic gaze read far too much. “Ask me again some other time.”
As we left the forest of thorns, darkness fell very suddenly, as if we’d crossed some invisible barrier into Night. One moment, we were in the perpetual gray twilight of the wyldwood and the next, it was pitch-black except for the stars. And a new sound began to filter through the silence of the forest, faint at first but growing ever stronger. A constant murmur that slowly progressed to a dull roar, until we finally emerged from the trees to stand on the banks of a great black river.
“Wow,” Puck mused, standing beside me. “The River of Dreams. I’ve only seen it a few times before, but it never ceases to amaze me.” I agreed with him, albeit silently. The surface of the river was black as night, ref lecting the star-filled sky above and stretching on and on, until you couldn’t tell where the water ended and the sky began.
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