by A. C. Cobble
The rogue nodded. “Do it. Let’s get a few days away from here at least. Then, we can rest. It’s possible the pirates won’t follow us into the woods.”
“It’s possible,” acknowledged Towaal. She didn’t sound hopeful.
The next morning, they broke camp and ventured into the forest. Near the edges closest to Akew Woods, the trees were young and slender. They’d been logged to support the town’s needs, but by midday, the trunks grew thicker, the overhanging pine boughs heavier, and the scent of the sea faded to the smell of pine.
The road was wide enough for a single wagon and packed hard. There weren’t many travelers to Akew Woods, but there were some, and they had been using the lonely track for generations. There were no turns, no cut-outs, nothing but the solitary road and the quiet forest around it.
They moved slowly. Rhys had received an additional boost from Lady Towaal’s healing, but the energy she imparted could only do so much. The rogue’s body needed time to recover, and they didn’t have it. He hobbled along, barely lifting his feet as he moved at half-walking speed. It gave Ben plenty of time to study the woods around them.
“A serious logging operation could make a fortune here,” he muttered, eyeing a soaring pine. He guessed it’d take three of them to link arms and circle the thing.
“What do you know about logging?” asked Amelie.
Ben stared back at her.
She frowned and a flush crept into her face. “Oh, right.”
Ben gestured around them. “You went to Farview and Murdoch’s Waystation. You saw the distance it takes to move timber to market. We benefit from the Callach River, but it’s a serious endeavor. Here, with a quick wagon train, they would be to Akew Woods in less than a day. Those ships could sail anywhere along the coast.”
“Maybe the wood is too heavy to ship,” offered Amelie.
Ben shook his head. He was thinking about Whitehall and Fabrizo. Even Shamiil or the City. None of them had nearly as much quality timber available as what the party was walking through. Surely, a savvy merchant could transport it cheap enough to earn a healthy profit.
“It’s almost like they don’t cut wood more than a day away from town,” speculated Ben.
“They don’t,” confirmed Rhys from behind them.
Ben glanced back and saw Rhys struggling to keep pace.
“Let’s take a break,” suggested Ben.
A momentary flash of relief crossed the rogue’s face and he plopped down on the side of the road, landing on a soft bed of fallen pine needles. He unhooked his water skin and took a sip.
“We’ll be fine on the road,” he advised, “but these woods aren’t friendly to strangers. We should stay as close to the track as we can.”
Ben glanced around them. The woods seemed peaceful. They reminded him of home. There was nothing more threatening in view than a quick-footed red squirrel, which scampered across the road in front of them.
“Is it a magic wood?” asked Amelie. “Like in the story of the Goblin Forest? Meredith’s mother used to tell us that tale when we were little.”
“It’s not a magic wood,” interjected Towaal, “and there are no goblins here, at least that I know of. There are people who live in this forest, though. Hermits, I suppose you could say. They’re tribal and fiercely territorial. They allow people access to the road because they need trade as much as anyone, but off the road, they can be dangerous.”
Ben frowned. “The sailors mentioned hill tribes, I think, and I recall in the City people said there were bandits or something out here.”
“Not bandits,” corrected Rhys. “The tribes couldn’t care less about wealth. As Towaal said, it’s about territory and ensuring that no one encroaches on theirs. That’s why there isn’t any logging here. You venture too deep and chop down a tree, someone is going to show up.”
Ben kicked a pinecone out of his way and asked Rhys, “So, these tribes live in villages around here? We haven’t seen any roads.”
Towaal answered, “No one knows exactly where they live.”
“The Sanctuary is within a few days’ walk of the northern edge of the forest,” objected Amelie. “How is it that no one knows anything about these people?”
“There are dangers in these woods for anyone,” replied Towaal solemnly, “but it is even more so for people with talent. Even on the road, mages have been known to pass into these woods and never exit. Members of the Sanctuary never travel this way now. Too many mages have been lost.”
“That sounds like a magical forest to me,” insisted Amelie.
“Mages avoided Qooten too,” reminded Ben. “There was nothing magical there, just Dirhadji. Could it be that these tribal people are related somehow?”
Towaal shrugged.
“This doesn’t make sense,” said Amelie, frustration lacing her voice. “If there was something or someone in this forest attacking mages, the Veil would have done something about it. This forest is nearly on her doorstep!”
“The women who have worn the veil rarely start a fight they cannot win,” advised Rhys. “They are plotters, strategists. Like anyone, they are afraid of the unknown or someone bigger and meaner than them. Whatever is in this forest that represents a threat to mages never comes out. If you were the Veil, would you send your people in here or live and let live?”
Amelie grunted.
Ben, frowning, kicked another pinecone. “If this place is so dangerous for mages, should we be worried that we’re going to spend the next month hiking through it? We didn’t gather enough supplies to get us all the way to the City. We’re going to have to hunt and forage at some point.”
“Yes,” responded Towaal. “We should be worried, but Milo went through here, and if there is any chance we can catch him, we have to try.”
They camped a few leagues from where they had started, half a day’s journey at best, but Rhys was flagging, and darkness fell early underneath the trees. Ben collected an armful of fallen branches and placed them above a pile of pine needles. With a snap of her finger, Amelie shot a spark into the pile, and the fire blazed alight.
“You’re pretty handy,” acknowledged Ben.
Amelie grinned.
Towaal sat eyeing Rhys from across the fire. The rogue seemed to have fallen asleep, leaning against his pack. “If those pirates come for us, we’re not going to outrun them at this rate.”
Ben nodded. Even with Towaal’s healing, the rogue was in no shape for serious travel.
“What do you suggest?” asked Amelie. “An ambush?”
Towaal shook her head. “They didn’t catch us today, and it’s possible they aren’t following us at all. Who knows? They could have all killed each other in that tavern, or maybe they thought you fled to the sea. Setting an ambush could be a massive waste of time, time which we can’t afford to lose more of. Besides, if they do catch us, they’ll be in for a surprise.”
Towaal snapped her fingers like Amelie had earlier and sent a bright orange spark flying around their campsite. “A handful of mundane attackers isn’t something we need to be overly concerned with,” declared the mage.
Ben laughed. “I guess after dealing with the Purple and Eldred, I’ve gotten used to worrying about mages.”
“A mage isn’t invincible, as you’ve seen,” responded Towaal, “but unless they catch me sleeping, I can easily handle a small group of men who haven’t trained hardening their will.”
“We’ll set a watch then,” decided Ben. “We can put out the fire and place someone thirty or forty paces back on the road. If anyone is coming this way, that should be time to wake the others and get ready for them. Guarding the camp, starting fires, you mages are nice to have around.”
“We are,” agreed Amelie. “Now, you had better make yourself useful to us and cook our dinner.”
“You can take the lady out of the castle,” mumbled Ben under his breath as he scooted over to his pack to scrounge through the limited supplies they’d brought with them.
“What wa
s that?” questioned Amelie.
He grinned at her. “Just looking for those sausages.”
Both Amelie and Towaal snorted. Smiling to himself, Ben set about making dinner.
After they ate, he doused the fire and volunteered for the first watch. The night was pleasant. A breeze stirred the pine trees above him, and it was warm enough that he felt comfortable with his cloak opened wide to allow access to the hilt of his longsword.
Somewhere, a few days ahead of them, Milo had followed this same road. Behind them, a gang of pirates may or may not be following them. In the woods lurked vicious tribes capable of making a mage disappear. Despite that, Ben was comfortable alone in the dark. The forest reminded him of home, and before the demon attacked, he never had reason to be worried in Farview. The sounds of night birds and the hoot of an owl were the only things that intruded on the rustling of the pine needles. He knew that if anyone was stalking through the woods, the forest critters would go silent. That, more than hearing men moving, would serve as adequate warning.
But as the bells passed, the forest remained alive, and by the time the moon was high overhead, Ben had neither heard nor seen any signs of pirates or tribal warriors. He made his way back to the camp and shook Lady Towaal awake.
Her eyes snapped open and reflected the dim moonlight back at him.
“All quiet,” he whispered.
She nodded and rolled to her feet, shaking out her dress and then vanishing into the dark within a dozen strides. Ben curled next to Amelie and quickly feel deeply asleep.
The chirping of birds woke him in the morning.
Their fire was cold ash. Around it, Rhys and Lady Towaal slumbered. Amelie’s bedroll was empty, and Ben surmised she must be down the road still on watch. Pre-dawn light barely broke through the pine canopy above him.
Ben quietly slid out of his bedroll, taking care to not wake Rhys. They’d spared the rogue a watch last night and hoped to give him as much rest as possible before they began hiking again. They risked overextending the man and making his recovery worse, but none of them thought staying close to Akew Woods and the pirates was a better idea.
Ben stalked out of the camp and down the road, moving silently until he saw Amelie’s back. She was sitting on a log that some previous traveler had dragged to the side of the road. Ben grinned when he saw her reach down and pinch her arm, trying to keep herself awake. He paused, thinking about sneaking close and surprising her. Then, he remembered the spark she’d created to start the fire the night before. Instead of sneaking up, he called out.
She turned and stood, stretching her arms high above her head and yawning.
“I could use some of that kaf you like so much,” she said.
He nodded. “Me too. Next time, before we run from a pirate battle, let’s make sure to pick some up.”
She grinned.
“Towaal and Rhys are still sleeping,” he added.
“Sit with me then,” she said, reclaiming her spot on the log and patting the bark next to her.
Ben joined her and smiled when she scooted close and rested her head on his shoulder. They sat, enjoying the peaceful quiet of the forest until they heard stirring behind them. They returned to camp and found Rhys and Towaal moving about.
Throughout the day, they hiked deeper into the forest, leaving all trace of the sea and Akew Woods behind them. They didn’t see another traveler all morning, but Ben could tell that somewhere in front of them, there was a short wagon train. Even he could easily spot the wheel marks left in the soil. He tried to guess how far ahead they were, but he was fooling himself. There had been no rain since they had landed in Alcott, so the tracks could be a bell old or a week old.
“Check the spoor,” advised Rhys, pointing to a foul lump of animal waste in the middle of the track. “Stick your finger in it and see how deep you have to go to find warmth. Each knuckle is roughly equivalent to a day.”
Ben eyed his friend suspiciously. “Really?”
Rhys shrugged. “It could be true. You don’t have anything else to do for a month, so you might as well try it out. If we catch up to the wagons, we’ll see if I’m right.”
Ben grunted.
They kept walking for several long moments. Then, Ben remarked, “I need to hunt. Someone has to find fresh game, and you need to conserve whatever energy you can.”
“Amelie will do it,” interjected Towaal.
Both Ben and Amelie looked to her.
“I, ah, I’ve never really hunted,” mentioned Amelie. “I’m not sure I’d know what to do.”
“Ben can show you where to find the animals,” allowed Towaal, “but when you do find one, you need to bring it down.”
Amelie glanced down at her rapier. “I don’t think that’s going to work very well.”
Towaal sighed and glanced toward the sky. She snapped her fingers. Again, a spark flew out in front of her. It shot like an arrow and then hooked right before fizzling out harmlessly two dozen paces away.
“The bigger the animal, the bigger jolt you’re going to need to give them,” advised Towaal. “The energy you used to start our fire last night may stun a mouse. A deer or a hog is going to take a significantly bigger blast. Start practicing now, every day, and by the time we reach the City, you could be more effective than some of the members of the Sanctuary.”
Amelie stared open-mouthed at the mage.
“What you found in Eldred’s room, girl, if there are more of those things, you have to be prepared. At full strength and with time to prepare, the four of us nearly failed to defeat her. We can’t let that happen again. All of us, we need to be ready.”
“What should I do?” asked Ben.
“When Amelie isn’t flicking sparks at fauna, she’ll throw them at you.”
Ben blinked.
Towaal snapped at him, and a thumbnail-sized spark flew out, striking him in the chest. The spark sent a shiver down his spine, and he stumbled back, but Towaal hadn’t put any real power into it.
“Akew Woods made me realize something,” said Towaal. “We’re going to the City and plan to take on the Veil and her minions. By the time we get there, they may have access to an incredible weapon that even Gunther was afraid of. Two days ago, you ran from a room full of pirates. That was smart. We should avoid unnecessary conflicts, but we can’t always run away. We have to push ourselves harder than we ever did before. If we don’t…”
They kept walking, booted feet falling softly on the dirt road.
Finally, Rhys let out a groan and declared, “I need a drink.”
Ben and Amelie squatted next to each other, peering silently through the foliage at a creek two dozen paces away.
They had crossed it on the road and then followed it into the wood until Ben spied a shallow bank covered in hoof prints. The creek was a watering hole frequented by deer. He and Amelie had found cover and settled down to wait until one of the animals turned up. When one did, Amelie would stun or kill it. If all went well, before nightfall, they’d have the carcass back to the road and could put it on a spit over the fire Towaal and Rhys were tending.
They’d been waiting a bell already, and Ben was starting to get bored. He knew they needed to be silent and that the fresh meat would be worth it, but sitting still just a hands-length from Amelie was driving him mad.
Slowly, he snaked his hand out and placed it on the small of her back. She ignored him, entirely focused on watching the creek. Bit by bit, Ben’s hand slid lower, past the small of her back, down to her rear. Just as slowly, Amelie’s head turned until she was looking at him. Not appreciatively.
Ben coughed quietly and brushed his hand on her. Leaning close, he whispered, “Some big bug was crawling on you. I was just knocking it off.”
She held his gaze before responding just as quietly, “Good. I’d hate to have to squish it.”
Ben sighed and turned his gaze back to the stream. He waited impatiently for another bell until a soft snort broke the silence of the forest. A deer, just bare
ly grown, stepped into the clear space near the bank of the stream.
Amelie, eyes boring into the animal, raised a hand.
Ben knew with her other hand she’d been steadily rubbing two balls of wool together. The wool helped her build a charge, which she would direct and pour energy into. The deer stepped closer, and Amelie flung her hand forward.
A sharp crackle burst out of her hand. Unlike the tiny sparks she’d been playing with earlier, this was a finger-wide flash of lightning. It streaked across the clearing, burning an after-image into Ben’s vision, and snapped when it hit the deer’s side. The unsuspecting animal was thrown into the air and flung back a dozen paces before it crashed into a tree.
Ben leapt to his feet and charged forward, drawing his sword and preparing to kill the unfortunate beast, but as he reached it, he saw he didn’t have to. They’d thought Amelie’s attack would merely stun it, but a fist-sized burn was seared into the animal’s side. Smoke drifted off the carcass. Its short hairs stood on end, and unless Ben was mistaken, the deer was now partially cooked.
Amelie stumbled up to him, weaving like she’d had half a dozen mugs of wine.
“Oh,” she gasped, clutching her head.
“I think that was a little too much,” suggested Ben.
Amelie blinked at him blearily, and Ben sighed. He bent and grabbed the hoofs of the deer. With a grunt, he jerked the corpse up and slung it onto his back, front and back legs straddling his neck and gripped tightly in his hands. It weighed more than he wanted to carry alone, but Amelie wasn’t going to be helping just yet.
The next morning, Ben carved shanks of smoked venison and wrapped them carefully before stuffing the meat in his pack. They’d been losing time with Rhys needing to rest and pausing to hunt, but with a heavy load of fresh meat, he hoped they could make a decent travel day.
Rhys was stretching and grumbling, clearly exhausted, but at least he was on his feet and moving around. Ben had worried that even the light hiking would be too much for the man after so recently recovering from a near death, well, death, experience.
