sometimes I wished I had a
road
, literally as well as metaphorically.
We moved forward together, crossing the boundary from Midnight’s land into the enchanted forest that belonged to the Shantel.
The woods here seemed simultaneously darker and brighter than they should have been. The light cascaded through the trees in a way that had no rhyme or season. Shadows fell without regard for the location of the sun, and plants that were just peeking up above the ground in other areas were already in full bloom here.
I had lived with the Obsidian guild long enough that I could normally navigate a forest comfortably. I habitually took note of the direction of the light, and which trees marked a straight path. In Shantel territory, however, thatdidn’t work. North wasn’t north, and one could walk in a line forward and end up making a circle.
“Where are we going?” Vance asked at one point.
“Hopefully, the Family Courtyard,” I answered. “That’s what the Shantel call their village. We won’t reach it until tomorrow, though.”
“Do you have any idea where we are?”
I shrugged. “We’re in the forest,” I answered. “If we keep traveling, we
should
reach our destination, unless the Shantel don’t want us to. We’ll be under guard before we get there, if we aren’t already.” Just as the forest could decide to let us in, send us away, or drive us lost in circles, it could bring Shantel guards to us. “For tonight, the only thing we need to worry about is avoiding the serpiente. We probably got here hours before them, but time and distance in the Shantel woods change, so they could catch up with us.”
We traveled until dusk, then set up camp and divided the night into two watches. We wouldn’t see the Shantel unless they wanted us to, but we would hopefully hear the serpiente royal party if they approached.
Vance took first watch, and I succumbed to uneasy sleep.
Monsters surrounded me
.
I didn’t know where I was, or what I had done to deserve this. I was the child of a Patriot in the Continental army and a nurse he had met during the war
. They
loved me, but what value could I possibly have to anyone else? I was seven years old, and constantly ill. Why would anyone want me?
I cried out for my mother, for my father, though my throat was parched and hoarse. They didn’t come. Instead, a woman approached me whose skin was dark like clay, and decorated with black and indigo inks
.
She spoke to me in a language I didn’t understand, and offered me foods I didn’t recognize. Some settled well in my stomach, soothing my hunger, but others inspired vivid hallucinations and made my body heavy. They came in bowls carved with symbols that writhed and made my eyes ache when I looked at them
.
Sometimes the woman—the witch, I was sure—would leave if I tried to refuse her tonics and potions, but other times, she would call for help. More strangers would come, and would hold me in place so she could force the foul brews down my gullet
.
I thought I remembered others coming to me, who spoke English and tried to explain what was happening, but their visits were hazy
.
Sometimes Shane was there. He never spoke to me, just played his harp. Sometimes he sang, in that strange language. His music was the only thing that calmed me in this terrifying place
.
A WORDLESS CRY of alarm snapped me from dreams to full alert. I reached for my dagger, only to find my wrist caught by shadows in the forest.
I lashed out instinctively, driving my shoulder into the chest of the person restraining me as I tried to stand. Instead, I found myself off balance, with my wrists pinned behind my back by warm hands.
Warm
. These weren’t serpiente. If they had been, Vance would have seen them sooner, and we would have run. The fact that they had been able to sneak up on us meant they were Shantel.
Vance let out another protest, and I called, “Don’t resist! They won’t hurt us.”
I wasn’t
entirely
sure about that,
road
, literally as well as metaphorically.
We moved forward together, crossing the boundary from Midnight’s land into the enchanted forest that belonged to the Shantel.
The woods here seemed simultaneously darker and brighter than they should have been. The light cascaded through the trees in a way that had no rhyme or season. Shadows fell without regard for the location of the sun, and plants that were just peeking up above the ground in other areas were already in full bloom here.
I had lived with the Obsidian guild long enough that I could normally navigate a forest comfortably. I habitually took note of the direction of the light, and which trees marked a straight path. In Shantel territory, however, thatdidn’t work. North wasn’t north, and one could walk in a line forward and end up making a circle.
“Where are we going?” Vance asked at one point.
“Hopefully, the Family Courtyard,” I answered. “That’s what the Shantel call their village. We won’t reach it until tomorrow, though.”
“Do you have any idea where we are?”
I shrugged. “We’re in the forest,” I answered. “If we keep traveling, we
should
reach our destination, unless the Shantel don’t want us to. We’ll be under guard before we get there, if we aren’t already.” Just as the forest could decide to let us in, send us away, or drive us lost in circles, it could bring Shantel guards to us. “For tonight, the only thing we need to worry about is avoiding the serpiente. We probably got here hours before them, but time and distance in the Shantel woods change, so they could catch up with us.”
We traveled until dusk, then set up camp and divided the night into two watches. We wouldn’t see the Shantel unless they wanted us to, but we would hopefully hear the serpiente royal party if they approached.
Vance took first watch, and I succumbed to uneasy sleep.
Monsters surrounded me
.
I didn’t know where I was, or what I had done to deserve this. I was the child of a Patriot in the Continental army and a nurse he had met during the war
. They
loved me, but what value could I possibly have to anyone else? I was seven years old, and constantly ill. Why would anyone want me?
I cried out for my mother, for my father, though my throat was parched and hoarse. They didn’t come. Instead, a woman approached me whose skin was dark like clay, and decorated with black and indigo inks
.
She spoke to me in a language I didn’t understand, and offered me foods I didn’t recognize. Some settled well in my stomach, soothing my hunger, but others inspired vivid hallucinations and made my body heavy. They came in bowls carved with symbols that writhed and made my eyes ache when I looked at them
.
Sometimes the woman—the witch, I was sure—would leave if I tried to refuse her tonics and potions, but other times, she would call for help. More strangers would come, and would hold me in place so she could force the foul brews down my gullet
.
I thought I remembered others coming to me, who spoke English and tried to explain what was happening, but their visits were hazy
.
Sometimes Shane was there. He never spoke to me, just played his harp. Sometimes he sang, in that strange language. His music was the only thing that calmed me in this terrifying place
.
A WORDLESS CRY of alarm snapped me from dreams to full alert. I reached for my dagger, only to find my wrist caught by shadows in the forest.
I lashed out instinctively, driving my shoulder into the chest of the person restraining me as I tried to stand. Instead, I found myself off balance, with my wrists pinned behind my back by warm hands.
Warm
. These weren’t serpiente. If they had been, Vance would have seen them sooner, and we would have run. The fact that they had been able to sneak up on us meant they were Shantel.
Vance let out another protest, and I called, “Don’t resist! They won’t hurt us.”
I wasn’t
entirely
sure about that,
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