by H. R. Rekow
“I’m pleased you’re you.”
“Oh!” Olivia looked up at him with a smug grin. “You hardly know me, my prince!”
“Come now.” Theron smiled and moved closer. “A girl who explores castles, who throws fiddles at knights, and meets with strange men without a guardian’s consent—”
“Shhh!” Olivia giggled.
“—is a girl who likes her hair down.”
Olivia bit her lip and looked him in the eyes. “You’re not a prince.”
Theron’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“Princes aren’t like you. They’re so serious, so official.”
“I can be a prince if you wish.”
“No.” Olivia shook her head. “I like you this way better.”
Theron smiled and grunted. “You are quite an odd find. . . In a good way, of course.”
Olivia’s eyes narrowed. “I think you meant to say I am the most beautiful woman in all the realms! More elegant than a Suvarian she-elf; as refined as a Solaric and graceful as a Lunaris!” She grinned as her eyes danced with amusement.
Theron nodded. “Yes, yes, that was on the tip of my tongue, but I . . . yes, was just going to say that.”
Olivia laughed and shook her head. Theron smiled and she took his hand with her gentle fingers. With a gasp, she seized his hands and stared at them. “They are ice!”
“I’m fine. Truly, I—”
“We are going in.” Olivia pulled him toward the door, though he did not want to leave. “You should not have done that,” she muttered over her shoulder, yanking the door open and pulling him inside.
“Would you rather I had not?”
Olivia ducked her head and looked away. “I. . .” She let go of his hand and color rushed across her cheeks and nose. “Maybe not.”
Theron smiled and rubbed his arms to warm them. Olivia glanced at him with a grin, and handed him back his cloak. He took it and thanked the One in Red for giving him such a fine treasure.
Chapter 8
Valsara’s Fate
Olivia looked out the window of a narrow, cushioned wagon as she watched Crown Haven’s walls fade away. The battlements were slowly hidden by the Hilled Country’s green knolls and villages. The thunder of horses’ hooves, clink of armor, and hubbub of discussions filled the air.
They journeyed down a dirt road carved out by countless travelers, horses, wagons, and carriers over decades of traffic. A few young trees cast shadows over the road between fields of wheat. It was late morning, and the mist had already lifted from the land. The sun’s warmth grew by the hour, and blue sky broke through the drifting gray clouds.
Olivia could barely make out the tower where Theron and she had secretly met the night before. She smiled as her eyes flickered to the prince beside her, but her smile was short-lived. She glanced ahead past the caravan of knights and servants on foot to a dark green line at the end of the horizon. Wraith’s Hollow was waiting.
Wraith’s Hollow was the tip of a larger forest, Deep Wilds. In turn, Deep Wilds was once part of another woodland, Fogrenna Line. All three woods bordered the other, for the individual three were once one whole forest, whose name had been lost in time. The tree line took root in Suvarian’s northern coastline, the beginning of Fogrenna Line, and curved along the eastern side and south through Suntar’s Pass, becoming Deep Wilds along the way. From there, it grew into Tulaun, and curved to a point between the Flat Plains and Hilled Country, known as Wraith’s Hollow.
The forest’s division was caused by Suvarian’s War of the Royals, a decade of war and rebellion amid the imperial Solarics; the royal elvish kidred. During the civil war, the Charnelics and Sulphuros aligned with the rebellious Solarics whereas the Lunaris and Sylvaine stood beside their Solaric king. The final battle had taken place where Deep Wilds currently lies. The defiant Solarics and their followers were slain and left with eyes gouged out in disgrace. Their bodies were eaten by birds and ravaged by wolves until there was nothing left. Or so the Suvarians thought. In time, blind ghosts were sighted, phantoms of the slain elves. They wandered Fogrenna Line’s eastern side, and every elvish inhabitant fled from the haunted wood.
As time passed, five families of barbaric nature found the abandoned land and settled there. They worshiped stones and called themselves the KinFolk. The five wild families, Wolf Folk, Cedar Folk, Sky Folk, Sea Folk, and Stag Folk, separated and established their own territories. Over time, the families grew to form Kins, separate tribes within the Folks, and a new race of people. Thus, the Wilders were born, and Deep Wilds was established.
Wraith’s Hollow, Deep Wild’s pointed end, was overthrown by Lord Demus, as the legends say, and the Spellbinder allowed every kind of abhorrent creature to infect the wood. The disorienting trees grew so thick that a strong wind was unable to penetrate them. Nothing stirred within the shadowed forest, and many believed all pure life had fled long ago. All that remained was the decay of evil.
Olivia eyed the forest’s dark line that met the sky, knowing the silent trees waited for them. She gulped a quivered breath and turned away, her hands tightly clasped in her lap. A hand came to rest over hers; it was strong and warm. Olivia glanced at Theron and saw that as one hand held hers, the other gripped the hilt of his sword. She smiled and placed her other hand on top of his; she knew he would keep her safe. Sobriina watched them as she sat on the other side of the wagon, Duke Aldret next to her.
Theron took in a slow breath, and looked out the window to Wraith’s Hollow. He lifted his chin and clenched his jaw. Olivia thought he looked less like a prince and more like a knight. That morning, he had checked and rechecked his men-at-arms, Elshender with him every step of the way, saying all was as safe as it could be. The prince had ignored his Proxy, continuing his inspection until he was satisfied.
Theron’s actions flattered Olivia. No one had cared for her as he did and, even though she had just begun to know him, she knew he was sincere. She lifted her chin and looked away from her betrothed, though the gleam of a smile remained in her eyes. They bounced down the road in silence with their cloaks on their laps. “How long will we be in the forest?” she asked.
“Two days,” Theron said. His eyes did not move from the distant forest. “Not unbearably long.”
Olivia’s smile faltered as her brows drew close together. “What if trouble falls, like a Charnelic or vampire or some dark being?”
“We’ll take care of them. Vampires are fables anyways.” She scowled as he motioned to the ring of armed men who rode on horseback around the wagon. “They’re my finest men. I’m sure that they shall easily take care of whatever comes, if anything does.”
Olivia nodded as she whispered a sigh. “And Valsara, she’ll help,” she muttered.
“Who?”
“Oh, um, Valsara. My double. It is amazing we are not twins; The Wizard must have known I needed her. We are almost identical. Same height. Same weight. Same hair and length. Same skin, though hers is a touch darker.”
Theron and Sobriina exchanged glances as they sat across from one another. “Um . . .” the she-elf mumbled, “my lady—”
“Are you certain this Valsara came with you?” Theron asked.
Olivia’s eyes narrowed. “Why, of course she did. She would never be left home during a journey like this! She is here! Isn’t she?”
Theron’s grip of Olivia’s hand tightened. “I’ll still keep you safe.”
Olivia gasped with a shake of her head. “Why isn’t she here?”
Krea gave Olivia a glance as she walked beside the wagon behind Cedany and Nan, their feet coated with dust from the road. Olivia noticed her quiet look. “Krea!” The lady-in-waiting jumped. “What are you not telling me?” Krea turned to Cedany for help, but did not respond. “Krea, what do you know?”
“My lady, I can’t say,” Krea mumbled. “Countess Primis’s orders.”
Olivia’s mouth dropped open as she looked to her aunt and uncle in their own wagon. They were drinking wine
and staring out the window like a pair of solemn statues. Her eyes narrowed. “Where is Valsara?” she whispered.
Nan sighed and laid a hand on the wagon’s window as she walked beside it. “Me lady, Valsara’s run off. No one knows where she’s at.”
Olivia shook her head. “No, Valsara would not do such a thing. Something must have happened!”
Nan stared at her, but said nothing.
Olivia swallowed hard. “Something did happen. What? Nan, tell me!”
“No one knows, me lady.”
Olivia looked away and closed her eyes. She thought back to the last time she saw Valsara, a few days before their journey to Crown Haven began. Valsara had been helping Nan pack food for the saddle bags. She would not run away. She is too loyal! Too valuable! What happened to her? Olivia swallowed. She said nothing as her heartbeat quickened with dread.
Sobriina leaned toward Olivia, her brow furrowed with concern. “Our Prince Theron’s men are the shining gem of knights throughout all the kingdom, dear Lady Olivia,” she said. “They will guide us faithfully to Henricien. No darkling could find victory there.”
Duke Aldret glanced at the Lunairs as he sat next to her, but stayed quiet. Olivia shook her head and looked between her aunt and uncle and ladies-in-waiting, her mind whirling in thought.
Sobriina studied Olivia and lifted her chin. “You do not believe me, my lady? I still see fear’s hold in your eyes.” Olivia lifted her chin and opened her mouth, but no sound came out. “Your mind takes in my words,” Sobriina said, “yet your heart is uncertain.”
Olivia looked away, and color heated her cheeks as the three pairs of eyes watched her. A laugh suddenly lifted from her. “It seems you know me better than I know myself. But Valsara . . .”
Sobriina grinned. “I shall try a second approach to convince you of our safe travels; it might be more effective than before. I have ventured through Wraith’s Hollow before.”
Olivia’s mouth dropped open as her eyes bulged. “By the Silver Eye,.” she whispered. “Did you know, my lord?” Theron nodded and Duke Aldret stared at Sobriina with wide eyes.
“Did you come upon the mysterious tower?” Theron asked. “I forgot to ask you when you first told me of your travels.” She shook her head and turned away.
“Did you travel alone?” Olivia whispered in awe. “You must have been guarded by seasoned warriors!”
“Yes, a portion of my father’s warmongers joined me. I have been shown the art of weaponry as well,” Sobriina said. “Not like Celeste. Hum. Such an odd one she is.”
Theron’s eyes narrowed. “Who’s that?”
“Oh, my younger sister. Anyway, I am comfortable with anything, may it be bow, mace, sword, or dagger. My heart turns more to the anelace, however. Something about the sword being short and sweet, I think.”
“I see,” Olivia said. “Do you have one on you now?”
Sobriina grinned and straightened her back with pride. “I have two.” Theron’s eyes widened. The wagon wheel suddenly fell into a divot, and rattled the passengers. They grabbed the walls, the open windows, and each other so as to not fall from their seats. In a moment, the road evened out and the horses snorted and stomped onward.
Olivia heaved a sigh and pulled away from Theron. She had not realized she was clutching him so hard. She adjusted her done-up hair, and leaned closer to the she-elf. “However did you survive Wraith’s Hollow?”
Duke Aldret gave Olivia a sideways glance and shook his head. “Why so dramatic? It is a dangerous wood, yes, but so is every other country road.”
Olivia frowned and sat back against her seat. “Why travel with us, Duke Aldret? You are not needed, are you?”
“The king commanded me to join. I believe he wishes my support in your matrimony. I will mentor and guide when the king or myself sees fit.”
“I see.”
“Wraith’s Hollow is still dangerous, yet not as drastic as my lady believes,” Sobriina continued. “However, The Wizard was merciful. When we ventured off Savior’s Way, my soul should have drifted from me on several counts, our lives were threatened so, but he barred its escape. And we shall travel down Savior’s Way, my lady. The forest’s single road is much safer than anywhere else in the wood. Therefore, the loss of Valsara will not bring dire consequences. You are safe with the prince’s men, and again, my lady, Savior’s Way is eerie, yet not as hostile as you believe.”
Duke Aldret, who had said very little the entire journey, turned and faced her. “Why travel through such perils? ’Tis rash to leave Savior’s Way.”
“I was not alone, my lord. My family’s Defender accompanied me; Defender Durno De Sheem.” Sobriina’s purple eyes flashed at the half-blood and her jaw clenched. “And it was anything but a rash act. I had to save my father!”
Theron glanced between her and Aldret.
Olivia watched Sobriina in thoughtful silence. “What, um . . . what did you find? Or are we prying into cracked areas of your heart?”
“No, no, it does not distress me to speak of it.” Sobriina waved a dismissive hand with a smile. “As I said, my father was ill. No herb rooted in healing or plea to The Wizard could restore his breaking body. Therefore, after searching throughout Suvaria and seeking the wisdom of Healers and physicians alike, I left my home and sought after a cure as fast as my feet could fly. And I found myself there, my men and I . . . in Wraith’s Hollow. There was nothing of value along Savior’s Way; therefore, we had to search deeper. Away from the security of the road. And, amid the trees with all the shadows and coldness on one’s flesh, it did seem, well . . . Wraith-ridden.” Olivia swallowed hard and clasped Theron’s hand.
“And yet,” Sobriina said as a grin lit her purple eyes. “Yet, as the minstrel GarishVerse said, The One in Red is still the master of the trees. And that He is. Then. Now. And forevermore.” Sobriina looked Olivia in the eyes and sighed. “The Wizard sang us a remembrance. Do you recall how it goes, my lady?” At this, the she-elf lifted her head and began to sing:
Fear not the terrors of the night
Nor the arrow that flies in midday.
To not dread the disease that stalks in darkness
nor the disaster that strikes in midday.
A thousand may fall at your side,
ten thousand may be dying around you,
but these evils will not touch you. 4
Olivia closed her eyes as the melody washed over her. “That he promised,” Sobriina said, “and his promises are our armor and protection. Take heart, my lady.” Sobriina patted her hand. “Take heart. These evils will not touch you.”
Chapter 9
Legends of Old
Olivia and Theron laughed as Sobriina ended her elvish fable of a foolish Sulphuro slave; even Duke Aldret smiled. Olivia shook her head as she glanced between the smiling faces around her. She took in a breath to tell a story of her own, but stopped. A lump formed in her throat and choked her. With a gag, she grabbed her throat and tried to breathe, coughing until air filled her once more. Her chest heaved as she sucked in more air, her eyes darting to and fro.
Olivia looked down and noticed goose bumps dotted her arms. Her hair stood on end. A dark shadow enveloped the wagon. She blinked and realized everyone else had stopped laughing. She glanced at them, her head tilted to one side. The men sat, their shoulders rigid and hands on their weapons. Mistress Sobriina took a breath and closed her eyes. She let it out in one slow whoosh to calm her nerves. They all felt an eerie chill that not only caused them to shiver, but penetrated their souls and deep within.
“What’s going—?” Olivia’s whisper faded into nothing as she looked out the window, her eyes wide. Her glass heart trembled. The final remains of the rolling green hills passed out of view and a thick woodland consumed her. The whisper of the wind and buzz of insects were cut short until cold silence remained.
They had entered Wraith’s Hollow.
Thick shadows of gnarled trees fell across the travelers. They tangled among one anothe
r until they were a new, living being. The trees’ limbs arched over the only road through the wood, Savior’s Way, and their branches wound together until the sky paled. The soft stomp of horses’ hooves and the creak of wagons’ wheels mingled with the chilled air. All was still, as though the forest was holding its breath.
Olivia tried to swallow, but could not. She thought to clear her throat, but would not dare. She feared someone would hear, and turn their yellow glowing eyes upon her from the gloom. She clenched her hands together as she turned out the window. She had never seen such a thick forest! There was scarcely enough room for the trees to breathe, let alone feel the sun’s warmth. That was why everything felt dead, she considered. No warm light was allowed in, as though it were banned from the forest.
Wizard, keep us safe, please! Olivia’s eyes leapt from shadow to shadow; something was watching her, she knew it. Let nothing come to harm us!
“Who is Lord Demus supposed to be, exactly?” Sobriina whispered. Olivia flinched at her words; they were a scream in the unnatural stillness. Olivia’s brow furrowed as she opened her mouth to object to the question, but shut it and looked away. “I am poorly versed with Tulish mythology.”
“Lord Demus. . .” Aldret’s whisper drained into silence as his pale eyes darted from tree to tree. “How is it you are uninformed of his character, being an experienced traveler through this tree line?”
“I sought truth, my lord,” Sobriina retorted. “My father was near death; I had no time for children’s stories.”
“He’s a Spellbinder in the old stories,” Theron said, his voice raw and quiet. “He practices dark arts known by dragons and Wraiths. I hear the power of Wraiths are so strong, it kills mortals who wield it from the inside out. Turns their eyes gray like death, too. It think its called Wraith Eyes.”
“Dragons are also fables,” Sobriina pointed out. Theron shrugged indifferently. “And Wraiths’ power is what exactly? I heard whispered it was called The Pravus-”
