west, past the allown tree, and followed the road that ran alongside the gurgling SiderosRiver.
The horses’ hooves clomped a steady rhythm in the dust. Achan swayed from side to side, starting to feel an ache in his lower back and thighs. Flies buzzed around Etti’s mane, and she flicked at them with her ears. The wind was soft and warm today. Birds chirped from budding treetops.
Sir Gavin twisted to look back. “You see that ridge there?” He pointed to the western horizon where a bumpy darkness edged the skyline.
“Aye.”
“Those are the ChowmahMountains. We’ll go as far as the SiderosForest today.”
Achan grinned. He’d never gone so far from home—or even seen a forest, for that matter. Their journey continued, always with grassy fields on his right and the smooth river on his left. Achan couldn’t wait to see a change in the land.
Sir Gavin stopped under a small grove of poplar. They tied the horses to a tree and sat on the bank of the river for a lunch of apples, bread, and cheese. Sir Gavin removed a dagger from his right boot and gave a lesson in how to fight with it. Achan practiced some stabs on a sturdy tree, then they continued with their ride.
Achan could now make out the SiderosForest. Hundreds of trees stretched from north to south as far as he could see. And the forest continued west, sloping up the side of the mountains until snow took over. Achan had seen snow a few times. It came down occasionally in Sitna but rarely stuck for more than a day.
Why would anyone want to live in endless fields when there was a beautiful place like this they could come to instead? The trees were taller than any he’d ever seen. If not for Gren, Achan might’ve wished that Sir Gavin would never take him back to the manor.
As they neared the thick forest, Achan noticed the fog that edged the skyline. A queer chill washed over him. He saw that halfway up the peaks, the snow transformed into a shifting grey cloud that seemed to stretch the length of Er’Rets.
The Evenwall.
Achan tried to look beyond it, but he saw only the mist. Yet he knew Darkness was there. The cursed land beyond the Evenwall hadn’t seen the sun since King Axel and Queen Dara were murdered. The black shroud was said to be a result of the gods’ anger. Punishment for the murder of their king. Achan had heard of the Evenwall but had never seen it himself. It looked like a fierce storm cloud approaching.
Sir Gavin stopped Scippa just outside the forest. “Eerie, isn’t it?” He nodded toward the mountains.
“It’s a nightmare,” Achan whispered.
“Too true. Hear this, young Achan: never go into Darkness. Never even as far as the Evenwall mist. It calls to men. It lures them inside. A man can go crazy in the haze and never find his way out.”
Achan had no intention of ever going into Darkness or the mist that was supposedly the doorway to the eerie place. “Do people actually live over there?”
“Aye, plenty. Therion used to be a land as fair as Nahar. But it’s a different world since the death of the king. Thirteen years ago Darkness pushed all light from the western half of Er’Rets.” Scippa shifted nervously beneath Sir Gavin, as if he didn’t like the topic. “The lack of light is the lack of Arman,” Sir Gavin said. “And the lack of Arman is Darkness indeed.”
Achan considered this, not quite understanding what Sir Gavin meant. Arman was the father god. But Sir Gavin’s story confused him. Couldn’t a god go anywhere? How could darkness push a god away? Etti turned toward a tuft of grass, and Achan had to steer her back so he could see the forest.
“Some of the noble houses have endured despite the lack of light,” Sir Gavin said, “although it is said that madness brews there aplenty.”
Achan could only imagine what it would be like to never see the light of day, the sun, or even the moon and stars. How did people cope?
Sir Gavin turned Scippa in a half circle.
Achan twisted around. “Are we
The horses’ hooves clomped a steady rhythm in the dust. Achan swayed from side to side, starting to feel an ache in his lower back and thighs. Flies buzzed around Etti’s mane, and she flicked at them with her ears. The wind was soft and warm today. Birds chirped from budding treetops.
Sir Gavin twisted to look back. “You see that ridge there?” He pointed to the western horizon where a bumpy darkness edged the skyline.
“Aye.”
“Those are the ChowmahMountains. We’ll go as far as the SiderosForest today.”
Achan grinned. He’d never gone so far from home—or even seen a forest, for that matter. Their journey continued, always with grassy fields on his right and the smooth river on his left. Achan couldn’t wait to see a change in the land.
Sir Gavin stopped under a small grove of poplar. They tied the horses to a tree and sat on the bank of the river for a lunch of apples, bread, and cheese. Sir Gavin removed a dagger from his right boot and gave a lesson in how to fight with it. Achan practiced some stabs on a sturdy tree, then they continued with their ride.
Achan could now make out the SiderosForest. Hundreds of trees stretched from north to south as far as he could see. And the forest continued west, sloping up the side of the mountains until snow took over. Achan had seen snow a few times. It came down occasionally in Sitna but rarely stuck for more than a day.
Why would anyone want to live in endless fields when there was a beautiful place like this they could come to instead? The trees were taller than any he’d ever seen. If not for Gren, Achan might’ve wished that Sir Gavin would never take him back to the manor.
As they neared the thick forest, Achan noticed the fog that edged the skyline. A queer chill washed over him. He saw that halfway up the peaks, the snow transformed into a shifting grey cloud that seemed to stretch the length of Er’Rets.
The Evenwall.
Achan tried to look beyond it, but he saw only the mist. Yet he knew Darkness was there. The cursed land beyond the Evenwall hadn’t seen the sun since King Axel and Queen Dara were murdered. The black shroud was said to be a result of the gods’ anger. Punishment for the murder of their king. Achan had heard of the Evenwall but had never seen it himself. It looked like a fierce storm cloud approaching.
Sir Gavin stopped Scippa just outside the forest. “Eerie, isn’t it?” He nodded toward the mountains.
“It’s a nightmare,” Achan whispered.
“Too true. Hear this, young Achan: never go into Darkness. Never even as far as the Evenwall mist. It calls to men. It lures them inside. A man can go crazy in the haze and never find his way out.”
Achan had no intention of ever going into Darkness or the mist that was supposedly the doorway to the eerie place. “Do people actually live over there?”
“Aye, plenty. Therion used to be a land as fair as Nahar. But it’s a different world since the death of the king. Thirteen years ago Darkness pushed all light from the western half of Er’Rets.” Scippa shifted nervously beneath Sir Gavin, as if he didn’t like the topic. “The lack of light is the lack of Arman,” Sir Gavin said. “And the lack of Arman is Darkness indeed.”
Achan considered this, not quite understanding what Sir Gavin meant. Arman was the father god. But Sir Gavin’s story confused him. Couldn’t a god go anywhere? How could darkness push a god away? Etti turned toward a tuft of grass, and Achan had to steer her back so he could see the forest.
“Some of the noble houses have endured despite the lack of light,” Sir Gavin said, “although it is said that madness brews there aplenty.”
Achan could only imagine what it would be like to never see the light of day, the sun, or even the moon and stars. How did people cope?
Sir Gavin turned Scippa in a half circle.
Achan twisted around. “Are we
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