Tal's Spacebar

Chapter Twenty

    Everet, Corradin and I left the tavern early the next morning before the thugs from Weihenmark could awaken. As we turned down the older, more overgrown trail towards the Blackspine mountains, I fell into pace behind the two men, mourning the loss of my ability to chat with Everet.
    Corradin glanced back at me, yawning. "She doesn't have to walk five paces behind us, young Everet," he said. "I'm a man of Serravia. Monteluce territory, specifically. If you keep to Valen's traditions instead of Kesselgard's, I'll take no offense. We of Monteluce treat our stock with refinement."
    "Come on then, Miren," Everet said, motioning me forward. 
    I shifted my pack a little on my shoulders and moved to walk by Everet's side.
    "Monteluce," Everet murmured, as the forest thickened. "Lovely place. Palms, green hills, white castles in the mountains, banners waving in the wind. And outstanding cuisine everywhere you look."
    Corradin lit up almost immediately. "Ah, you've visited, I take it?"
    Everet nodded. "Once, three years ago. On my way here, I traveled through Bellacosta and Monteluce."
    Corradin smiled. "Treacherous road. Too many patrols for my taste. Lovely in the summer, of course. And lovely stories. Permit me to tell you one about a prince that lived in the white-towered castle of Castelbrasa."
    "I visited that castle," Everet murmured.
    "And it's a true story," Corradin added with a mischievous smile. "Aurelio, his name was. Prince of Castelbrasa. Now, it's important to remember," he added, adjusting his walking stick, "before the Dimming, the brightest of humanity controlled the elements with the ease of shaping clay. From Aurelio's hand sprang fire - calm, radiant, and wonderful. In his courts it was merely a lovely trick, but on the battlefield he was a dragon, mighty and devastating. So of course fate would decree he would fall in love with Silvana, princess of the forest."
    He went on about the rift between the forest and castle families, how their love was persecuted by jealous kings that wanted Aurelio's hand for their daughters, and how one tried to burn down Silvana's forest. I moved up closer to listen, mesmerized by the tale.
    Corradin noticed. His lips twisted into a smile. "You're deeply enjoying this, little one," he murmured.
    A bolt of panic. Too obvious, I hissed at myself, but my face betrayed me, turning so hot I could feel it in my flattening ears.
    But Corradin only laughed mirthfully. "You can enjoy my tales! Stories are for everyone, young miss."
    "Thank you, sir," I whispered, almost embarrassed. I felt Everet's amused gaze lingering on me, which made it worse. "It's a nice story, sir."
    "You do speak!" Corradin exclaimed. "Splendid! Now, onward with the story, shall we?" He gave me a little wink.
    Over the course of the day, he told us several wonderful stories, but Prince Aurelio remained my favorite, and I couldn't put my finger on why.
    
    That night, after we made camp, Everet told Corradin that he and I needed to retreat deeper into the woods for a time. Corradin only raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "I'm not one to judge what a man does with his stock," he said in quiet amusement. "And I appreciate your discretion in taking care of your business out of earshot."
    My face exploded, flushing almost painfully. "We're not -" I began, but Everet shushed me with a squeeze of my shoulder, guiding me away.
    After we found a hidden glade, Everet said, "Let him think that. I'd rather he think I'm using you than training you to fight."
    I flushed again at that. He doesn't understand, I thought, ears flat. Now I'm going to feel horribly embarrassed whenever Corradin so much as looks at me. But as we stepped out into a wide clearing, I wrenched my mind away from it. "He knows so many tales. Did humans really once command fire?"
    Everet smirked, seeming a little playfully mischievous. "We still do. Not like we once did, but…" The man stepped ahead of me, drawing his sword, and raised it behind him as he took a fighting stance. Then, suddenly, he swept it into a forward flourish.
    The effect was immediate. I felt the heat as his blade sprouted flame, funneling it into a short forward burst that illuminated the ground ahead of him. The puff was over almost as soon as it began, and while the world seemed darker than it had before, my heart was racing in awe. "Everet!" I gasped out, clasping my hands together. "Oh!"
    He relaxed, sheathing his blade as he watched me in something like smug pride. "Impressed?"
    "Oh, very!" I whispered, tail swishing. "Is this how you fight beasts?"
    "Almost never." Everet stepped close and winced as he pulled up his sleeve. There was a fresh cut across his forearm, blood oozing and smearing. "Fire costs flesh. If I used fire for beasts, I'd be asking Healer Miren for stitches every night. When I must, I use wind - exhausting, but harmless."
    I frowned at the tiny cut, but looked up at him, eyes wide in hopeful wonder. "Will I learn magic?"
    Everet laughed, putting away his manablade and pulling out two training swords. "You'd need my manablade, and to train under a Conduit, like the Wraithtrees on the palace grounds in Valen - and half-humans cannot legally enter the palace. No - tonight, we'll keep working on your blade thrusts, and I'm going to start teaching you to parry."
    I deflated a bit, but nodded and took my blade. "All right." Then, softer, "I liked seeing you use magic."
    Everet only smiled, and I settled into a fighting stance.
    
    The week went on, the northernmost of the Blackspine Peaks looming ever closer as we wound our way through the foothills. The days grew crisp, the leaves just beginning to change color to something painterly and golden. Though the trail gradually became more overgrown and harder to follow, the daily routine was gentle: Corradin told stories as we walked, while Everet trained me at night in swords and deportment. Corradin's fairy tales were amazing, taken from all over the Continent during his travels. But my favorite was always Aurelio and Silvana - I asked him to tell it to me again more than once, and he always laughed and obliged.
    As we began to climb the mountain itself, Everet grew apprehensive. "Beastsigns," he muttered more than once, stopping at a smudge in the earth or a broken branch. On occasion he would motion for Corradin to be quiet as he listened.
    He grew more and more nervous as we climbed, until finally, it broke into true alarm.
    We were partway up the mountain when it happened.
    Everet hushed Corradin in the middle of a story about the sailors of the southern continent, and we heard a faint growling noise in the distance. "Woodwights," he hissed, leaping to action. "Corradin! Miren!" In seconds he located a shallow hole near the road. "Both of you! Into it now!"
    "Everet!" I whispered in terror. My feet moved obediently as I rushed from the road. "Everet, I -"
    "Later," he interrupted sharply. "Stay here and be quiet!" After I climbed in, he forced my head down by my horn.
    Corradin joined me in the little depression while Everet chopped leafy branches from nearby trees with his hatchet, tossing them over us.
    Everything will be okay, I whispered in my head, even as I watched through the branches as Everet disappeared into the woods. We're not going to die. We're going to be okay.
    After a long time, I whispered, "We're going to be okay."
    "We are," Corradin murmured gently. "Are you trying to soothe yourself?"
    I nodded, closing my eyes and breathing deep. "It feels truer out loud. My mom taught me how when I was little," I whispered. "Close your eyes, breathe deep, and imagine a happy place, like the river at Falkenbruck." When he was silent, I continued, "She taught me a lot, but some of it got us into trouble, like when she told me I have a soul."
    I glanced up at him in time to see his smile falter, just for a moment, before he shifted in the hole and said, "Miren, I wouldn't be afraid for him. He seems skilled and very confident."
    I huffed. "I'm not afraid for him. I'm afraid for us. He's fought three bullwolves at a time, and I've never even seen one."
    He hesitated. "Was that an exaggeration?"
    "Hardly," I murmured. "It almost killed him, but he made it home. He's an idiot."
    A bemused smile spread across the old man's face. "Miren, that was quite un-Kesselgard of you."
    I smiled a little sheepishly. "He's a good idiot," I whispered. "But still an idiot." 
    Corradin snorted and grinned.
    I went on, softer, more vulnerable, "I'm happy he's my owner. The men of Falkenbruck were cruel, and… inconsiderate. But around Everet, I feel…" I trailed off, not sure how to describe how I felt. Off in the distance, we heard the scraping of blade against wood, angry roars and hisses that grew sharp and then silenced. "He's kinder than he should have been." Now I can hardly stand being stock.
    Corradin watched me for a time in fascination. "You're a very dangerous girl, Miren." 
    My eyes flicked back to him, quizzical and suspicious. "I'm really not."
    "No?" He shook his head, deep in thought. "There is hidden depth behind those quiet eyes. The common man would talk to you and wonder if, perhaps, you have a soul after all. To this world, that is a danger."
    His words drew something tight in my chest, questions whirling that I hadn't asked in years. 
    But before I could finish the thought, my breath caught in horror as we were interrupted by a growl and heavy footsteps.
     A creature lumbered into view through the leaves of our hiding spot - tall like a man, with a body of twisted, matted grass and mud, tangled, braided roots and twigs for limbs, and a gaunt, misshapen head like rotting wood with sharp teeth and glowing blue eyes.
    My ears flattened; I crouched lower. "A woodwight?" I whispered.
    Corradin placed his hand over my mouth far too late. The beast was already turning towards us, a horrible scratching, clicking growl shuddering from its throat as it began shambling towards us.
    I shrank away.
    But the creature didn't take another step, as the world erupted in a quiet, fluttering roar.
    In a gust of wind and swirling leaves, Everet slid into view, sword flourished, hair whipped about, face set with focus. The beast spun; in an instant its arm grew into a whip that came down hard on Everet's flank. He blocked it smoothly, sliding past it, and swirled his sword. A vast THUD shook the air as the woodwight stumbled backwards in a sudden wind, limbs shaking as Everet's sword impaled it through the throat.
    I made an embarrassing noise of horrified amazement under Corradin's hand.
    The beast struggled for a moment after Everet withdrew his sword, but it stilled, its eyes growing dim. Moments later, it crumpled to the ground, decaying into tangled grass and roots as the magic that held it together faded.
    Corradin removed his hand from my mouth and I heaved a deep, whimpering sigh of relief.
    His breath heavy, Everet stalked back to us and lifted the branches off our little ditch, tossing them aside.
    Corradin stood, his joints cracking. "If the Church of Silver Flame had been your audience, Everet," he chuckled, "they would hang you for that."
    "Yeah. I know. Didn't realize one left the group until too late," he muttered. "But you don't hold with the Church, I hope."
    Corradin laughed. I watched him as he climbed out of the ditch, myself still curled up at the bottom. "Absolutely not," he chuckled. "To do something as infantile as betraying the man who saved my life but a moment ago, I'd have to abandon my own values, and I will not do that for man, Church, or King. And besides," he finished, brushing himself off, "Serravia has its own magic as well."
    Everet said nothing, but knelt down next to the ditch to pull me up. His hand around mine felt strangely calming, almost sacred, and he put his hand on my waist to steady me as I climbed out.
    When I was finally standing, I looked up at him, still shaken. "You moved so fast," I whispered. "I didn't even know you could do that."
    He laughed. "And I hope you never see it again." Then he winced, moving his shoulder awkwardly and squeezing his arm. "Think I messed up my injury."
    I stepped forward. "May I check it?"
    He shook his head, picking up his pack and shouldering it. "When we stop for the night. Let's keep moving."
    And then, as though nothing had happened at all, we turned and continued the climb. The mood was quieter now - more solemn - like we were all listening for something else to happen.
    Late that night, after my deportment practice, I checked his arm by the firelight. It looked the same as ever - ugly and scarred - but it hurt him badly to move it.
    When it grew dark, I shifted my bedroll closer to his than I had ever dared before, thinking about the bed at Altenrast. Even as the autumn chill settled in on the steepening slopes, his presence felt warming. While Everet acted unaware, Corradin regarded me with a wizened, assuming smile that made me feel ashamed.
    But I didn't move away.

Chapter Twenty-one

    The climb grew steeper, the ancient path narrower and hedged with rocks, curving up winding slopes choked with bush and briar. At times we encountered sections of path washed away by mud or rockslides; Everet led us skillfully through the gaps and over fallen stones.
    And then, one afternoon, there was nothing left to climb.
    At the summit stood a crumbling fortress wall surrounding a ruined town, tangled with vines and weeds. Corradin wasted no time in choosing one of the sturdiest for our stay. All the buildings were heavily scavenged and empty except for old rusted pans and other trash.
    While Corradin got himself settled, my feet took me up the debris to the top of the northern wall. Everet followed behind me, seemingly amused. "That's it, Everet?" I asked, deeply disappointed. "You can barely see. There's too many trees in the way." And so there were - a thick blanket of green, gold, and brown. You could barely see the valley through them at all.
    He laughed and gave me a playful smirk. "There's a better view, if you're brave." He pointed at the old watchtower that rose from the corner in the wall. 
    When I moved towards it, Everet followed.
    If time had been kinder, the tower might have felt like Castelbrasa from Aurelio's fairytale - circular and strong, with pale stone ivy-mottled blocks - but the roof had fallen away, and part of the top had collapsed, leaving shattered stone debris all around its base. The bottom floor was large enough for all three of us to sleep with a campfire. We stepped through it carefully, climbing the spiral stairs up past one floor, then another, the stone tangled with vines and slick with moss.
    "Careful, Miren," Everet said gently, catching me when I slipped. His hands were warm; I glanced back at him, ears perked. He stepped around me and stood in front, gently leading me upwards.
    "Ah, here we go. It's not a bad view," he murmured, as he reached the next landing. The wall of the tower had fallen away, gaping to the sky. "You ready?"
    I was absolutely not ready. I had never seen or imagined a grander view in my entire life.
    The tower dropped away to the forest below my feet, steep and perilous, and the entire valley lay beyond. A vast sea of trees stretched all the way to the horizon, faintly speckled with red and gold leaves under the brilliant sunset. My breath was stolen clean away. "Oh!" I gasped, almost a sob. "Oh, Everet - have you ever seen such a beautiful thing?" I clutched my hand to my heart. "Oh! You can see the foothills, and a river winding through the trees - the way they grow taller close to it - And look! There, in the distance, a little town!"
    "Steinmost, probably," Everet said. "It's on the river." In the corner of my eye I saw him glance at me, then back. "I guess it is pretty, isn't it?"
    "Everet, the way the clouds dapple the forest… oh," I breathed, a tear rolling down my cheek as I stepped closer to his side, awestruck and amazed. "Where is - where is Falkenbruck?"
    He lowered himself a little and pointed to our right, towards the east. "That way. Probably past the horizon."
    "It's so beautiful," I whispered, chest tight and full, completely overcome. I'd never felt so small before, even at the farm. I couldn't speak.
    Feeling brave, I leaned myself gently against him. Though bold and wrong, it felt so right. He felt like warmth and safety - and in that little overwhelmed breath, everything I wanted.
    I felt his hand rest on my shoulder, giving me a little pat. "We've still got a long way to go."
    That small touch reshaped my world.
    Suddenly the vision of the hill appeared again - sunset, a kingdom below me, wind in my hair - except now, I imagined Everet there at my side. I wiped away the strange, happy tears on my cheeks before my body moved on impulse, my arms wrapping around him, pulling myself closer.
    There was no one watching me. No instructions, no orders, no rules to be anyone besides little Miren Hartfell. There was nothing except Everet, the beauty of the valley, and the impossible thought that maybe this was how things were really meant to be.
    For a small, sacred moment, he stroked the hair behind my horn. I'd never felt this happy. Not with the thread, not with Rurik and the river, not with anything before or since. I melted into him, soft and confused and entirely undone.
    I could barely breathe.
    "Shit," he muttered under his breath. In an instant, that fragile safety shattered. "I've handled this all wrong." He lifted his arms and tried to move back from the edge, pulling away. "Miren, no," he scolded, sounding a little upset. "Miren, stop. Please don't do this to me." His fingers sank into the fur of my forearms, pulling me off him.
    A whimper escaped before I could stop it, and I looked up at him in broken surprise. "But - what -"
    "Miren, I can't," he insisted in frustration. "I'm your owner!"
    My tail twisted tight and I could only stare in openmouthed shock. Slowly, my hands withdrew, clutched to my chest. "But, I -"
    "No." Everet shook his head and stopped me, biting his lip, looking deeply perturbed. "Miren, I own you. I refuse to take advantage of that. I took an oath never to touch you in want - to protect you. I'm better than the men of Falkenbruck."
    He didn't sound so certain.
    But I don't need protection from you, I thought faintly, feeling lightheaded like I'd been struck. I couldn't speak - couldn't do anything but stare up at him, gaping, as the distance between us widened. Rurik's beatings hurt less than this.
    He couldn't hold my gaze. "Come on," he said, brows knit as he turned away to the stairs. "Let's go back. We need to train before it gets dark."
    I didn't want to leave, but my feet stumbled after him obediently. "Are you mad at me?" I whimpered, sniffling, almost slipping on the mossy stones. "I'm sorry I presumed. I know it's not my place. Please - I'm sorry. I won't do it again, please -"
    "Don't be sorry," Everet grunted, his voice tight. "Just… let's focus on training."
    As if I can focus on anything now. I had to fight not to cry as we descended the dark staircase. 
    
    The training helped less than I'd hoped. Off in a little clearing, Everet barked commands as he tried to teach me how to lunge. "Follow through with your shoulder," he coached, moving my arm. The touch wasn't tender anymore, only instructional, and deep within me, I mourned the difference I hadn't known until that afternoon. "You're letting your arm fall too low," he muttered, avoiding my eyes. "Deep breaths, focus on what you're doing."
    I couldn't, though. One lunge after the next, my stupid little mind was running circles around what happened in the tower. I wish I hadn't leaned against him, I thought, dismayed. I wasn't asking him to touch me. I was asking -
    "Focus, Miren," he said, seeming mildly frustrated. "You're letting your guard slip. And now your footing's wrong."
    His voice had a faint trace of bitterness in it - almost something like guilt, and that didn't make any sense. He's probably thinking about the tower, too. "I'm sorry," I whispered, trying to straighten.
    He grunted in response.
    Frowning, I stepped back into the stance and lunged forwards with a vicious thrust, following the point with my eyes.
    And at that moment, a laugh echoed through the trees. A voice spoke, unfamiliar in tone and accent. "You brought her all the way to the Blackspine just to teach her to skewer someone?"
    Everet spun and pulled his manablade so fast it sang.

Chapter Twenty-two

    Panicked, I glanced around our clifftop clearing, but I saw nothing except trees, stony terrain, and haggard brush. I crouched down low while Everet stepped towards the voice. "Come out," he shouted, tense and controlled. "Step out or I'll find you myself!"
    With a rustle of fabric, a dark-haired woman walked out behind a rocky outcropping, her tattered moss-green cloak swishing softly behind her. She wore a cream half-apron over her black dress with various pouches and vials on her belt, carried a satchel overflowing with plants on one shoulder, and grasped a glowing lantern. "It's only me," she called, the brim of her felt hat shadowing her face. "Just a gentle woman of the woods."
    At her words, I relaxed, but Everet didn't. He cautiously circled towards her as he readied his blade. "I trust none who carry that lantern, Witch of Elderweald," he growled. "How long were you watching?"
    My eyes widened, taking her in again. Witch? Like Corradin's stories?
    The woman let out a little tittering laugh, stepping slowly closer as Everet circled. She held her lantern in front of her; the glass glinted with crystalline runes. "I watched long enough to know what you're doing, Man of Valen." Her gaze settled on me with a playful smirk. "Her form isn't terrible. You're both either very brave, or very stupid."
    I suddenly realized I was holding the sword in a guard. I dropped the blade like it was on fire and kicked it away, watching it skitter under a bush. Too late, obviously. Stupid, Miren, stupid, my mind hissed in horrified shame. This could get you and Everet killed, both.
    "Not another word, Witch," Everet warned. "Your life is in peril as much as mine."
    The witch took a deep breath and sighed, her expression cooling. "If I meant to expose you, soldier, I'd have fetched the church instead of calling you." She reached into a pocket at her waist.
    Everet tensed, drawing the sword back.
    Looking up, the witch raised her lantern. "Calm, please," she said soothingly. Her free hand pulled herbs from her pocket and crushed them, then tossed them ahead of her as she waved the lantern in a circle.
    She really is a witch, I thought, slowly stepping closer to watch. There was no fire, but the ground around her came alive and flickered as though one burned brightly at her feet.
    "There," she murmured, straightening and letting her lantern fall back to her side. "Now we're even. I've seen you train a half-human, and you've seen me use magic. Does that satisfy you?"
    My feet moved me to Everet on instinct, until I heard a hiss in my head: Don't make him mad again, stupid. I stepped back quickly.
    Everet grunted, putting away his sword with an uncomfortable sigh. "I am Everet. This is Miren."
    But he didn't remove his hand from the hilt.
    The witch either didn't notice or simply didn't care. "And I am Avelyn Corbrook, born of Hazelglen," she said with a small curtsy, her lantern swaying. "A pleasure to meet the two of you."
    I curtsied back like Everet taught me: one foot behind the other, bend my knees, head down. It was awkward with the leather overskirt, but I managed.
    Avelyn breathed in sharply. "Oh, the plot thickens," she murmured, eyebrows raised as her eyes flicked between us. "Steel and curtsies both! Everet of Valen, I do believe there's a story here."
    I looked up at Everet, hopeful for praise, but he wasn't even paying attention.
    "Stories are for people I trust," he said firmly, then added, "You don't need to know any more than you already do. The road is dangerous and I'm training her."
    "And meanwhile nursing a wound," Avelyn murmured, stepping closer. "Soldier Everet, you surely understand why the pair of you might intrigue me."
    "We're none of your concern, Witch Avelyn," Everet said tersely. "And I am not nursing a wound."
    At that, the witch drew herself upright, tilting her head. "Your stance was askew a moment ago, and you hold your left arm delicately. I may have never held a sword, sir, but I can tell when a soldier is being careful with his arm. I am no fool." A pause. "Are you headed westwards? I am soon travelling to Kelrast, if I might accompany you. I do have some skill in healing."
    Everet didn't have a chance to reply. At a sound, I spun to see Corradin striding into the clearing. "I heard shouting, and I see now that we've encountered a fellow traveler," he called out, his bemused voice ringing through the rocky clearing. "Salutations! Imagine meeting someone up on this forsaken mountaintop."
    I looked back in time to see Everet tense, ever so slightly.
    The witch beheld Corradin with clear interest. "A nobleman, judging by your clothing? Then would I make the fourth, or are there more of you hiding in the woods?"
    Corradin was quick. "Everet? Are you expanding our group?"
    "Not even considering it," the swordsman ground out. "Certainly not with a witch. Not after Drovask."
    "I've known several witches in my time," Corradin said calmly, coming up alongside us. "Only a few of their guilds betrayed Valen at Drovask. I was particularly good friends with one from the Aspen guild." Then, to Avelyn, "What guild are you with, young witch? What emblem does your lantern carry?"
    For the first time, Avelyn did not have a quick comeback. Very slightly, she moved her lantern towards her cloak, as though she meant to conceal it, but hooked it at her belt instead.
    Corradin's voice drew thin. "You don't have a guild," he stated slowly. "A hedge witch, then. That's a very serious crime in Elderweald."
    The woman frowned and couldn't meet our gaze. For a moment, she only wrung her hands together. "I don't keep with their rules," she said quietly, almost ashamed. She glanced back at us. "So I think I'm good company, seeing that Everet was -"
    "- About to bed me," I blurted, interrupting. I heard Avelyn let out a little gasp. As much as I liked Corradin, I knew Everet wanted to keep it a secret. "When she came upon us, he was about to bed me." My face burned so hot I thought I might pass out, my curtain of hair worthless as protection. I'd never felt so wretchedly humiliated in my life.
    "Terrible timing, then," Corradin chuckled, leaning on his walking stick.
    I felt Everet's hand settle on my back. I squeezed my eyes shut, dizzy.
    Avelyn spoke, gentle and understanding. "Poor timing indeed. I didn't want them to start while I was within earshot." Then, after a moment, I heard her footsteps as she approached. "Sir, if you might lead me back to your camp, we could leave them to their business."
    I glanced up at her. As she passed by, she gave me a knowing, sympathetic half-smile and a wink.
    Corradin straightened. "I would be delighted, young witch. I am Corradin Ravelli of Serravia. And you might be?"
    The two of them turned and walked away from us, leaving us alone in the clearing.
    "That was quick thinking," Everet murmured, relaxing a little. "I sense Corradin would have very strong opinions about you learning swordplay, and I'd rather our fate not rest in his hands."
    I glanced up at him. "I know," I whispered. Then, after a moment, "I'm sorry I didn't drop the sword faster."
    A grunt. "You're fine. She caught us both off guard." He walked over to where I'd kicked my blade and picked it up. "We'll keep training." Then, as he walked back to me, he hesitated. "I'm sorry, Miren. For… the tower. I'm just trying to do right by you."
    His expression didn't say that. His expression said he was wrestling with guilt. "You're trying to keep me safe," I reassured him with an inward sigh, as I took my sword.
    He nodded, looking down. "I wish that…" he began, but then he trailed off, wistful and regretful. "Well. I'm doing the best I can."
    "I know." I readied myself for another lunge. "And anyway, I might like having Avelyn along. It would give me someone else to talk to."
    The man sighed deeply, lips twisted. But he only said, "All right, back in the stance. Shoulders loose."
    
    Later that night, we sat around a campfire in the hollowed village, Everet shirtless while Avelyn examined his scarred upper arm. I felt a strange bite in my chest when she bent close to him. 
    "It's a bad scar," she admitted. "Deep, yes, but I can help with it." She dug in the pouch at her waist and pulled out some plants I didn't recognize, then started to grind them in a little bowl. "What gave this to you?"
    "It was a bullwolf," Everet muttered.
    Corradin spoke up from the other side of the fire, chewing a piece of bread. "Three, I heard."
    Avelyn looked up from her bowl and snorted. "Three bullwolves," she chuckled. "Right. Sure. What an amazing fighter." She kept grinding, adding a little liquid from a flask.
    He's very lucky, I agreed, but was unable to voice the words. I was hoping Everet would tell how he defeated them, or at least confirm the claim, but he said nothing.
    The silence deepened into something uncomfortable. Hoping to break it, I asked, "How does your magic work, Avelyn?"
    Avelyn scooped some of the paste from the bowl and rubbed it on his scar, her fingers gentle. "Plants from the old world still have magic in them," she said, her voice soft like goose down. "Depending on which I use, I can do different things." She stood, backing away, and took out her lantern, slowly swirling it in a pattern directly over Everet's shoulder; the air around them seemed to darken, just slightly.
    As the light filtered onto his arm, Everet winced and hissed like she'd stabbed him.
    "My lantern is a Lens, like Everet's mana-veined sword," she went on. "It channels my will into the plant magic. But unlike Valen's aggressive soldiers, Elderweald is full of protectors and defenders."
    "When you actually stick around," Everet muttered.
    Avelyn stopped abruptly like he'd slapped her. "I wasn't present at Drovask and had nothing to do with it."
    "Maybe that was part of the problem."
    The witch glared. "I am trying to heal your injury, sir," she said indignantly. "I would appreciate the same respect you likely gave Miren when she tended you. She didn't do a bad job."
    My ears perked, surprised by the praise.
    Everet hesitated, but finally grunted an apology.
    Avelyn caught my eyes with a little smirk, and I smiled too, despite myself. Feeling a little bolder, I asked, "What happened at Drovask?"
    Corradin spoke up from the other side of the fire. "It was a nasty business on the northern Valen border, four years ago. The Karvathi forces fell upon the Valen-captured castle of Drovask with an army of drakehounds and a massive chained beast so ancient it darkened the sky as it breached the outer wall." He grabbed another piece of bread from his pack. "Even the lightning and flame of the few Valenian Knights present did little to deter it. Their ranks were broken and scattered, their soldiers consumed as the survivors were forced to retreat to Castle Mireval."
    "We would have survived," Everet grumbled, "if the Witches hadn't broken their alliance and fled when the sky darkened."
    Corradin took another bite. "Doubtful," he retorted. "The drakehounds outnumbered you three to a man. So, no. You wouldn't have."
    Avelyn did a poor job at stifling a laugh.
    Everet shot them both a look. "You talk as if you were there, old man." He suddenly hissed as his shoulder twitched, the witch's lantern burning bright.
    "I was there, in fact." The gleeman leaned against the wall behind him, smirking in amusement as he chewed. "I've traveled the continent, young soldier. I've visited the courts of Valen, the longhouses of the Skeldran Reach, sung my songs in Elderweald and Monteluce alike, and engaged the princes of Kesselgard in private conversation."
    This explains why it feels like nothing surprises him. "Princes of Kesselgard," I echoed.
    Corradin nodded. "And met Kesselgard's Queen Elswyth Karovska. And Valen's King Lucen Émeric de Valenne."
    Avelyn looked up, mildly impressed. "You've been everywhere, Corradin."
    "Not quite," he admitted, "but enough. I've seen enough bloodshed that I am quite tired of watching young people die and villages burn." He heaved a sigh. "I would be very relieved if the tensions between Valen, Kesselgard, and Elderweald resolved within my remaining years without another war." 
    Saying this, Corradin rose on his walking stick, stretched, and made his way to his blankets.
    Avelyn straightened suddenly. "That's the best I can do," she said, stepping back. "At least in one night. If you give me a few days, I can do it again."
    Everet stretched and flexed the muscles in his arm and chest.
    I watched for a moment, transfixed by a strange warmth in my stomach - until he looked straight at me. I dropped my eyes immediately.
    The man sighed. "Yeah. It feels a little better. Not back to normal, but better than it's felt in a while."
    The witch smiled and curtsied. "Pleased to be of service. So. Am I traveling with you, then?" She caught my eye, then turned back to Everet, tilting her head.
    Please say yes, Everet. He caught my eyes; my ears perked hopefully.
    The soldier sighed deeply. "All right. Yes. Though I suspect you'd follow along even if I said no."
    The woman grinned impishly as she cleaned and stowed her tools. "I might very well have."
    As Everet got dressed, I laid out my blankets - this time a significant distance from Everet. As he stoked the fire, he glanced at me again, but was silent. Don't be stupid, I hissed at myself when I felt a tightness in my chest. He's not going to ask you to move next to him. Dejected, I slipped under my blankets and covered up.
    "Hey," a voice whispered behind me. I rolled over and saw Avelyn laying her blankets down next to mine. "You're not going to sleep closer to Everet?" She seemed puzzled.
    I frowned. "No. I don't think he wants me close."
    She let her eyes flick between Everet and I, and then shrugged. "Hmph. If you say so." After scooting under her blankets, she closed her eyes for a moment. Then, quieter, "You shouldn't humiliate yourself to protect him." When I didn't respond, she added, "Earlier. In the clearing."
    "It's to protect myself, too," I whispered. "I would be burned alive for holding a sword. Do you not know much about stock in Kesselgard?"
    "Not as much," she admitted. Her eyes caught the firelight. "We have half-humans in Elderweald too, but my mother was a wanderer and avoided the towns. Sometimes she provided healing to the wild families of the woods."
    "Wild families…" I could almost imagine it. "That must be nice for them."
    She huffed. "As long as they're not caught," Avelyn muttered, closing her eyes. "Goodnight, Miren."
    I closed mine too. "Goodnight, Avelyn."
    Soon, I fell asleep and dreamt of the tower atop the Blackspire peaks - dreamt of Everet pushing me off the side, down into the forest.
    I slept fitfully.

Chapter Twenty-three

    The next morning we arose early, and Corradin and Everet immediately got into an argument: Everet had wandered off at dawn, and came back to find that Corradin, for all his traveling, thought you could put out a campfire by piling a few rocks on it. Avelyn settled the argument by calling both of them stupid.
    I was becoming fond of her very quickly.
    The descent towards Kreshalt was safer and better kept than the ascent, and the days wore on. Corradin and Everet discovered a shared interest in world politics; they would delve into it for hours, boring Avelyn to tears. On occasion she would wander away from them to search for herbs.
    Sometimes, I would follow her - secretly at first, and then openly; she delighted in showing me new things.
    And she usually found something interesting. Sometimes it smelled lovely, or was good to eat. On rare occasions it was some relict of the old world, woven with natural magic - things like puffweed or silkleaf, or her favorite, glitterreed.
    Once, we found an ancient cemetery. The nearby village had all but rotted to the ground, and the stones were overrun with vines and weeds. Avelyn wasted no time in wading through the grasses.
    "Miren!" she soon called with an excited gasp. "Oh! Come and see!"
    I hurried after her through the parted brush and knelt down beside her.
    "This is firethorn," Avelyn whispered, bending down over the small cluster of plants tucked behind an ancient gravestone. She began to carefully reach around the thorns, breaking off the little growths near the roots.
    I knelt close. The plants were small, thin and pale green with vibrant undertones, and little brown thorns, with leaves that looked faintly singed. "What do you do with it?" I asked.
    "Oh, you'll enjoy this," she whispered with an impish, conspiratorial grin.
    "I always enjoy it," I retorted quietly, smirking. "It's fun to see your plants."
    She snapped all the thorns off one of her samples, one by one. Once she was done, she peeled away the outermost part of the stem and held out what remained.
    I reached for it and almost gasped. "Oh!" I whispered. "Oh - Avelyn - it's glowing!" And it was - the hidden core was a tiny, shimmering ribbon of fire. As I tilted it, the ribbon glistened, almost iridescent; when I bent it, the light flared. "What makes it shine?"
    "Magic," Avelyn whispered playfully. "Rub it in your palms!"
    I did, rubbing my hands together - and with a loud crackle, it pushed my palms apart like I'd been slapped. I cried out in surprise, startled, and dropped the stem as I fell backwards. I grabbed at it and yelped at another loud snap.
    Avelyn burst into laughter, rocking back on her heels. "It's for warding magic!"
    Foolish as I felt, I couldn't help but giggle, too.
    
    Sometimes when we got bored of listening to politics, I would ask Corradin to entertain us with another story, and he would happily oblige. I heard about how the country of Agitacero sank into the sea during the Great War with the half-humans. I learned how the ancient mages changed the skies above the lost city of Varglen to power it with lightning, and we talked about how Raukenhall was grown from the bedrock of the world into more intricate shapes than my untraveled mind could even imagine.
    Each night, Avelyn would occupy Corradin while Everet and I would train, and then we'd all sit and listen to another tale. Avelyn and I would sleep side by side, discussing stories of her travels, or the ridiculous demands of Rurik's customers.
    "Why do you sleep next to me?" I asked one night, as we whispered on our bedrolls. "Corradin tells better stories."
    Avelyn huffed. "Corradin's a hard-headed man that's lost his softness."
    "Like Everet, too," I whispered.
    A small smile twitched on her lips. "No," she said after a moment. "Everet has softness, but hides it. You don't. You're like a… like a blossoming glitterreed. Life is so full of new things for you, and I get to experience the wonder and awe all over again. It makes me feel like we're two little girls playing in the woods. I haven't had that since my mother…" Her voice cracked and she looked down. "Well. It's been some time."
    "Something happened," I whispered. "I… I understand. I miss mine too."
    She looked up at me, seeming strangely small and wounded. "So much."
    "So much," I agreed, reaching quietly for her.
    Avelyn took my hand and squeezed it for a moment, then whispered, "We should sleep."
    "We should."
    
    For a time, that was the road: Corradin's stories by firelight, little detours with Avelyn, training and glances shared with Everet. I knew better than to call it safety, but my heart wanted it so badly I almost believed it was true.
    And that made the sound of soldiers worse.
    As we drew closer to Kreshalt on that dreary autumn day, the first gusts of an oncoming thunderstorm led Corradin to suggest staying at Verfhall Manor - a ruined estate left behind by a corrupt old lord. But Everet argued that if Corradin knew of it, others would too.
    And then, as they argued, we heard the shout.
    "Halt! In the name of the Silver Flame!"
    All of us froze and turned.
    There were well over a dozen of them behind a gray-haired, black-robed priest - haphazard armor, no formation, armed with swords, axes, and bows.
    I felt Everet tense, and Avelyn put out her lantern immediately. Only Corradin seemed confident.
    I shrunk close to Everet. I'm not wearing my leash, I thought, tail curling tight.
    Corradin stepped forward slightly, raising his voice as they approached. "Good evening, Father. You're a good distance from the nearest settlement, are you not?"
    The priest studied me with a cold, serious gaze. "We're hunting escaped stock from Kreshalt."
    Corradin shrugged amicably. "Regrettably, we've seen none besides the one that belongs to my friend. How long ago did they pass?"
    I tried to stay calm. Eyes down, I reminded myself. Look submissive and harmless. I hadn't needed to act like stock since Altenrast.
    The priest ignored the question. "Do you have her papers?"
    Everet, without speaking, removed his pack from his back and dug deep, soon pulling out the papers of ownership. He handed them over to the priest without hesitation.
    I felt my heart drumming in my chest when they exchanged hands. Those papers were the difference between belonging to Everet and being a stray. He's going to rip them up, my mind hissed. That's all he has to do, and then I'm Church property.
    The priest squinted as he read the letters. "'Caprine type… Female… Breeding Age.' And it shows the collar markings." He stepped close to me. "Let's see its collar markings, then." His breath was rancid.
    Eyes closed, neck bared, I coached myself. Don't tremble - stop trembling! Hold still, let him look. Don't look alarmed. But I couldn't unpin my ears.
    The priest fingered my collar, his hands like ice, pressing against my throat as he turned it to check the symbols. There was a tense moment before he spoke. "They match. Very well then. Make sure it's leashed when you approach Kreshalt."
    "Of course," Corradin said smoothly. "Good luck on your hunt, Father."
    "And you on your travels," the priest returned, already turning away down another path as he barked orders at his ragtag soldiers.
    As they left, I heaved a deep, shaking sigh. My hands were trembling. I clutched them tightly, looking between the group.
    Everet shook his head. "You've more than proved your worth, Corradin, with this alone."
    Corradin laughed. "I was concerned you might reveal your accent. They could have been quite harsh."
    "I was concerned they would be curious about me," Avelyn muttered, kneeling as she tried to relight her lantern. "A hedge witch in Kesselgard with magical herbs in her pouches. They would hang me on the spot."
    Everet glared quietly at her as he knelt to stow my papers. "I thought you could do rituals to sense humans."
    "I've been rationing supplies," she retorted tersely. "You can trust I won't make that mistake again. I prefer my neck intact."
    "Avelyn." I stepped closer to her, hands clasped. "Don't say things like that."
    She looked up at me. "You know you couldn't do anything to stop it."
    I frowned. "Yes," I admitted. "But…" I trailed off. But I can't stand imagining it.
    Avelyn only huffed. A few moments later, her lantern lit with a shimmering puff of flame; she closed it back and stood. "There's a good reason I avoid main roads." She started down the path ahead of us.
    "Main roads are safer," Everet countered, standing. "Beasts tend not to migrate. Travelers kill the ones that wander into the road, and that means fewer overall."
    "They're also more direct," Corradin chimed in, tapping the ground with his walking stick as he followed. "A fine road may shorten a journey of three months to one."
    Avelyn glowered, and seemed to consider staying silent, but then spun about to face us. "Would you really put Miren at risk for that, Everet? A few less beasts to fight?" she hissed, gesturing with her hand. "The priest could've ripped up her documents and seized her and you couldn't have done a damn thing!"
    "We can handle men," Everet retorted, bristling. "Do you have any idea what lurks in the wilds? A handful of toy soldiers is nothing compared to the beasts I've seen!"
    "The priests would burn her!" Avelyn shot back, fuming. "Or sell her to some - some breeding farm that would treat her like livestock! If you care about her half as much as I think you do, you'd take your chances with the woods!"
    Everet's lips twisted and he drew himself up, ready to unleash a vicious torrent at the witch - but Corradin intervened. His voice was calm, authoritative, just like in Altenrast. "There is no safe road," he stated plainly, stopping between them. "The solution is not to change the route. The solution is managing it."
    Everet sighed, the tension seeming to deflate.
    "I just want to keep Miren safe," Avelyn muttered. "She's a rare sort of person, and I've grown fond of her."
    Person. My ears perked. You're dear to me too, Avelyn, I wanted to say, but I felt unsteady. When was the last time someone called me a person? I don't know if anyone ever has.
    "I'll keep her safe," Everet promised solemnly. "Don't worry about that."
    I looked back at him and felt my face warm under the softness I saw. I flicked my eyes down and straightened my overskirt.
    Corradin walked closer. "Miren is indeed special," he agreed, glancing up at the sky. "Now, let's reach Verfhall before this thunderstorm begins properly, shall we?"
    We hurried onward as the drizzle began.

Chapter Twenty-four

    That night, we sheltered in what was left of the abandoned hilltop manor in the broken, looted ruins of Verfhall. It was the only building still properly standing, the village beneath it rotting in the mud. We sheltered from the storm in its towering central room, lighting a fire in the huge, ancient hearth.
    The emptiness of the place unnerved me. Staircases vanished into darkness, old rooms creaked through the walls, and you could hear the thundering rain over the patter of things scurrying just out of view. All the while, rainwater trickled noisily down the walls, pooling in the stagnant, moldy corners of the cracked stone floor.
    The dreary atmosphere aside, the roof above us was a blessing. We sat around the fire and ate, Corradin retelling my favorite tale about Prince Aurelio of the flame. Then, as he finished with how Aurelio and Princess Silvana saved their castle from the Water King, Avelyn spoke up.
    "I'm not going west to Raukenhall," she announced abruptly, shattering the calm. "It's not safe for me."
    I looked at her in open-mouthed dismay. "Avelyn!"
    Everet groaned, annoyed. "We talked about this already."
    "No, we discussed changing the route as a group," she stated plainly. "I had thought I would hide my lantern in the capital, but after some thought, I think it's safer to take a different road: I'm turning south at Kreshalt. It's been very pleasant traveling with all of you, but it's a risk I shouldn't take."
    Corradin straightened and began to tidy his pack. "The only road from Kreshalt to Veligrad is through Raukenhall, unless you mean to travel south along the Blackspine to Moorstadt, and then all the way up along the Karven Ridge to Kelrast and then Veligrad. That's another month of travel at least. You won't arrive before winter."
    "No, I'm going to try to take the southern shortcut through Lethmark, if I can find the old road," Avelyn explained.
    The old gleeman looked alarmed. "That is foolishness, young witch. No one travels to Lethmark because of the beasts. I'm not even sure the road still exists."
    "It does," Everet said quietly. "But it's overgrown and hard to follow."
    We all turned to him in surprise.
    "You've been to Lethmark," Corradin observed, eyeing him curiously. "With a group or by yourself?"
    Avelyn snorted. "Alone, I'd bet. But that means it can be done."
    Everet shot her a brief glare. "Yes, I was alone."
    Corradin eyed him. "Hmm. Why does a soldier go to Lethmark, Everet?"
    "To see if the Conduit is still as strong as the stories say," Everet said. "But it was dangerous, and I would prefer not to travel there again. Those swamp-ridden forests are hunting grounds for things older and crueler than woodwights and bullwolves both."
    "Bogdrowners, shadeclaws, and reacher colonies," Corradin put in, "going by the legends. Ancient beasts of the old world you won't see on main roads. Raukenhall is the route of wisdom."
    "It is," Everet agreed. "Avelyn, you're going to get yourself killed."
    Avelyn rolled her eyes, then turned to me. "Miren, do you want to go to Raukenhall?"
    I sat up quickly, alert and horrified. "Me? Avelyn, I - I don't know if I -" She wants my opinion? Mine??
    "Young witch," Corradin corrected gently. "We all have a fondness for Miren, but she is still only stock."
    I winced and drew back slightly.
    Everet saw me wince and winced, too. "She's sharp, though," he offered, almost defensively. "I'd listen to her." Then, without waiting for anyone to object, he said, "Miren. What do you think?"
    Three sets of eyes tunneled into me. I shrunk back, feeling my shoulders tighten. "I…" What do you want, actually? I swallowed, thinking. I think… I don't want them to get mad at me.
    "Just say it," Avelyn encouraged, shooting a sharp glance at Corradin.
    Everet chimed in with, "I want to hear it."
    I nodded quickly, ears flat. Hesitantly, shakily, I spoke, feeling exposed and ashamed. "Raukenhall sounds beautiful in your stories, Corradin, but cities mean people, and priests, and I've had enough of both for now."
    Avelyn's lips tightened in vindication. "There. See?"
    Everet seemed disappointed - which stung enough by itself - but Corradin was dismissive. "She doesn't know what lives in the swamps." He leaned forward, laying his walking stick in his lap. "Miren, you've never seen a reacher. It's a sightless tangle of arms, hands, and mouths, covered in acidic muck. They live in the trees and swarm their victims, gorging themselves slowly over days. Or the shadeclaw - a great bony beast that disappears into the swamp during the summer and comes out in the autumn, changing colors to hide as it causes the forest to erupt in its anger."
    "Grim tales to frighten children," Avelyn scoffed. "There's supposedly shadeclaws in Varglen just east of the Crownwall mountains, but I never saw them."
    "Nor I," Everet admitted, "but I'd rather risk a few men than a beast of the old world. Don't endanger yourself like this."
    "I've made up my mind," she said quietly. That ended the matter. Eventually we gathered around the fire in our bedrolls and slept, but sleep came slowly. For a long time, I stared at her quietly from under my blankets, trying not to imagine her lantern bobbing alone in a dark, hostile wood.
    
    It was two more days before we arrived at Kreshalt - a small, dense crossroad town unlike anything I'd seen before. From the outside, it was unassuming: a hilltop town rising from the swamp like a haphazard citadel. But once inside the gates, it was an entirely different world.
    Where Falkenbruck felt full of life, Kreshalt felt full of motion. Where Falkenbruck sprawled, Kreshalt rose. Buildings stacked on top of others, hanging over alleys and sloping roadways until they met above in a canopy of weathered wood and stone. The mud was so thick on the cobble below you could almost taste it, and yet men still hauled handcarts and rickshaws like bullwolves were after them, shouting curses at anyone who dared stumble near their path.
    Corradin led us through the town as if he knew it by heart, taking us through the dark, confused alleys and staircases to a third-floor tavern nestled in the shadow of the stonewalled keep. Though I was deeply worried, dinner was peaceful - hearty stew and buttered bread so sweet and warm I almost cried.
    And this time, Everet wouldn't let me eat on the floor.
    As we lay in bed later that night, I loosed a whisper in the dark. "That was kind of you, earlier. Paying for Avelyn's food and room."
    Everet lay stiffly on the far side, staring at the ceiling. "She's a witch," he muttered dismissively. "She can barely earn coin in Kesselgard. A mark or two is nothing to me."
    "You're starting to like her too." I looked over at him, ears perked.
    He didn't meet my gaze. "She's annoying, but not all bad," he admitted begrudgingly. "Witch or no." Then, quieter, "I like how she makes you smile."
    The words washed over me like warm honey. I didn't know how to respond, and I clutched the words close to my heart until I fell asleep.
    The next day we replenished our supplies and left early, with the three of them chatting amicably among each other. Everet and Corradin found themselves deep in a conversation about the economic future of Kreshalt, and we were almost through the gates when a guard stopped us.
    "Halt!" the guard cried out, leaving his post as another guard jogged toward the guardhouse. The Silver Flame emblem shone on his left breast in white thread. "You sir - with the Valen accent. I'd like a word."
    I froze, terrified, and almost reached for his sleeve.
    Corradin was unreadable, but Avelyn seemed very anxious. Everet gave a tug to my leash, moving me a little closer to him as he stood straight and asked, "Is there a problem?"
    "Of a sort," the man said. "Are you Everet of Valen?"
    Everet's posture transformed in an instant, his accent deepening into something courtly. "Apologies, good sir, but no. You address Lord Matthieu de Vaurenne, Royal Ambassador of Valen to Serravia, charged with the business of crown and peace." He gave a slight bow, barely a nod of his head, but effortless and refined. "If you require further clarification, I will of course oblige, though I trust this is a misunderstanding and easily mended."
    Just like during deportment, I thought, amazed at both his skill and cleverness even through my fear. He sounds so official.
    For his part, the guard looked confused and discomforted. "A-apologies, sir - m'lord," he said, giving a clumsy, hasty bow. "No, I - we are looking for an Everet." He hesitated, shifting his weight and clutching his halberd tighter. "Only info I have, m'lord, was that he was from Valen and traveling west to Raukenhall with stock." He eyed me uneasily.
    Everet smiled. "A misunderstanding, then; I am traveling south. My business is time-sensitive, and I would be amiss to report that my passage through Kreshalt became… troublesome."
    The guard froze, then shook his head. "No, of course not, m'lord. Good day to you." Another hurried bow, and he stepped back.
    "And to you, good sir," Everet said with another nod, and then turned away. All of us fell into step behind him as we descended the rampart road - at a casual pace at first, and then picking up speed.
    "Everet, that was amazing," I whispered.
    He shook his head, muttering, "No, that was extremely unfortunate. If they've got my description at Kreshalt, I don't stand a chance in Raukenhall. So, change of plans: we're traveling south through Lethmark after all."
    "Quite probably for the best," Corradin said, seeming deeply apprehensive. "And I will stay with you, for my own reasons."
    Avelyn looked behind us and hissed, "One of the officers is shouting at the guard now."
    "They won't abandon their post," Everet muttered, confident. "Not in that armor. Too heavy for sprinting."
    "Indeed," Corradin said slowly, sideeyeing my master. "In what court did you learn to speak like that? And why are they after you, young Everet?"
    Everet shrugged. "I spent a lot of time in Aurelac, and pissed off the priests in Falkenbruck."
    "Hmph," Corradin muttered, disbelievingly. "I see."
    It felt like the gleeman was assembling a forbidden story I was blind to. And that made me wonder, too.

Chapter Twenty-five

    The Kesselmire south of Kreshalt was a very different experience from the reedy marshes and forests of the East Fens. The trees here were dead or half-drowned beneath the overcast Midautumn sky, smelling of decay. The ground often gave way to watery mud, the road narrowing to a series of wooden boards held above the stagnant muck by posts.
    Finding a spot to rest where there was also a place to train proved to be a problem. More than once, we ended the day without my training and I spent the evening embroidering, but as we traveled further south, it grew drier and hillier. One night Everet called us to a stop by a lovely tree-topped hill rising from the swamp. Our fellow travelers stayed in a glade near the road, while Everet and I wandered into the woods and found a clearing of our own.
    After I stripped down to my traveling dress, I asked, "So… what are we doing today?"
    "I'm kind of running out of new lesson ideas," he admitted. "So, here. Pretend I'm the King of Valen, sitting on my throne up on the dais." He walked to a little rise in the clearing and stood atop it. "I ask you to approach: 'Miren Hartfell may approach the throne.'"
    I took a deep breath, thinking. Everet liked to do these scenarios - "Talk to a noblewoman of house Beaumont" or "Ask a guard for permission to enter". He always liked to say I could never be sure who I would meet, or who would be watching.
    "You're delaying," Everet scolded. "When the king makes a request you move immediately and gather yourself as you go." Then, in the deep voice of Ambassador Matthieu: "You may approach the throne."
    I straightened and took a step forward, hands clasped in front, shoulders back. My boots sank into the damp grass as I walked forward, eyes down.
    "Look at his face when he speaks to you, then lower your gaze," Everet reminded me. "Don't stare at the ground. Keep your ears still."
    I frowned.
    "Don't frown. People will think less of you for public displays of emotion."
    I nodded and stilled my face, walking towards the little rise, and stopped a few paces in front, making a very deep curtsy. "Your majesty," I said, meeting his eyes before looking down at his feet.
    "Good! Very good!" Everet grinned and gave a few claps. "Very well done! You held it exactly long enough."
    I beamed, ears up in pleasure as I looked at him through my lashes. "You think so?"
    He chuckled. "It looked effortless. And you've mastered the noblewoman walk too. When you speak to the king, you can be a touch louder. You want the court to hear you without sounding like you're shouting. You're very close, though."
    I nodded, feeling warmed by his words. Then, smirking shyly, "But, Everet, you know I'm never going to meet the king. Half-humans aren't allowed in the palace, you said."
    He paused, nodding his head. "That's true. But he does leave the palace sometimes. Now go on, do another curtsy."
    I nodded and obeyed. "Yes, your majesty."
    
    On the third day of our travels, Everet slowed us to a stop and started searching the tangled brush around us.
    Corradin quieted, ending his explanation about the magic quills of Monteluce. "Is something wrong, Everet?"
    The swordsman only pushed further into the brush and called out in a mildly annoyed tone, "I think we're here."
    Avelyn snorted. "You act like it's something terrible, but my lantern still burns brightly."
    "It's the path to Lethmark," he explained, heaving a sigh. "I walked it three summers ago. Come on." He motioned for us to follow, and as we broke through the bushes, we found old cobblestones completely overgrown with grass.
    "These stones are seldom walked," Corradin said, sounding apprehensive. "Cursed, many say."
    "You're both too serious," Avelyn laughed. "I'm more used to forest trails than proper roads. You're going to scare Miren."
    My ears flicked back. "I'm not scared," I murmured, stepping a little closer to Everet. "Not with the three of you here."
    Everet patted my shoulder, almost tenderly. I tried my best not to lean into it, almost whimpering with a sense of loss as he rested his hand next to my hair. After the tower, I was terrified of leaning into it, but before I could summon the courage, he moved away.
    "Come on," he said, starting forward down the unkempt path. "We've got a long road ahead and need to stay sharp."
    And we started down the Lethmark road.
    
    Progress was much slower. Most of the time it was a matter of wading through grass and shrubs, but we often backtracked when we lost the ancient cobble. Another day, Avelyn's rituals sensed something in the forest ahead of us that alarmed her; we cut a wide path to avoid it.
    As the next few days passed, the road started to climb towards the Lethmark mountain cluster. As the swamp gave way to forests, the path grew rocky and uneven.
    As we walked, Corradin told the history of Lethmark - of how it was once a great city of magic and learning. Avelyn would sometimes pause us to collect edible berries and tubers for our journey, and Everet would occasionally hide us at strange noises and go on ahead to scout, sometimes returning with blood on his doublet.
    And then there was me. I wasn't really sure what my place was. I certainly didn't feel very useful. All I knew was that they treated me like a person and it felt nice to be among them. When they said "we", they meant me, too. When they passed bread at the campfire, they didn't make me wait. They started asking me for my opinions, too, which felt unnatural and wrong at first, but a part of me liked it, too.
    It was starting to feel natural.
    I was mulling over this in my head one day when I noticed something strange. After glancing up at the dimming sky through the canopy of trees, I murmured, "Why is it getting so dark? There aren't any clouds."
    Everet paused and turned around. "Miren, it's… it's not darker?" he said, confused.
    Avelyn and Corradin looked puzzled, too.
    I looked around us again. "All right," I whispered. "Sorry. I must be imagining things." It's probably in that broken stock mind of yours, my inner voice hissed. I grit my teeth and frowned; the voice didn't feel like mine anymore.
    We all started moving again, but the sense of darkness didn't go away; it lingered at the edges of my vision and it felt more difficult to breathe.
    After several minutes, Corradin spoke thoughtfully. "Hmm. I might be seeing things as well. For the briefest moment, I was almost convinced I saw something moving out in the trees."
    That drew Everet to a stop. "Something like what?"
    Corradin shook his head, peering into the forest. "Something larger than a man, like… like a momentary waterfall, if you could imagine it."
    Avelyn took a step back, examining the ground around her. "There's a lot of loose debris here," she said. "Branches and dead plants, like a great windstorm came through - except…" The woman paused, furrowing her brow, and pointed. "Look - there's holes where chunks of earth were ripped from the soil, and loose cobble from the road."
    "Something happened here," Everet agreed, circling. "Not a storm, but I wouldn't be surprised if -"
    And in that moment, before any of us could prepare, the world came alive in wrath.
    Branches, stones, and dirt lifted from the ground, floating into the air above our heads. My body felt strange, lightweight, like it forgot which way was down. I heard myself scream, heard Everet draw his sword and shout for us to retreat, and as Avelyn raised her lantern high, I heard Corradin roar a single word:
    "Shadeclaw!"
    A shape formed from the woods to our right like flesh from mist: as tall as Everet, wide-bodied with bony plates and scales, massive legs, a heavy tail, and a horned head with a great, toothy maw. The beast's great plates flickered and pulsed, red and black.
    Everet rushed towards it, Avelyn to the side down the path, and Corradin started to retreat.
    The sky fell. 
    Branches and rocks flew at me sideways, knocking me off my feet; I tumbled, screaming in terror as something dragged me away from Everet, gasping for air. Panicked, tail tight, my hands scrabbled against the dirt as I tried to crawl to cover. A pelting rain of pebbles and stones cracked against my horns, echoing in my skull as a sharp pain bloomed through my forehead. I shrieked as a force slammed me into the base of a rotting tree with a thud that made my back ache.
    "Corradin!" Everet shouted as he charged. "Get Miren!" A storm of debris funneled at him; he swirled his sword and dodged sideways in a rush of wind.
    The shadeclaw rushed at Avelyn first, the ground thundering with its steps. She held her lantern high and the air flared around her; the great beast seemed confused and turned, charging towards Everet instead with an angry roar.
    This isn't real, my mind insisted. This can't be real. This isn't happening.
    As Corradin hurried towards me, some force ripped his walking stick away from him - he fell and was lost in a violent swirl of dead leaves.
    A great groaning sound ripped the air - I looked up just in time to see the tree twist, its trunk splintering only a short distance above my head.
    The shadeclaw tore through the trees towards Everet, leaving Avelyn alone; its roar shook me to my bones.
    The tree above me split, twisting away from itself in fragmented pieces. "Everet! Everet, help!" I screamed, glancing back at him just in time to see him charge and lift his sword with a mighty flourish.
    And then, in a surreal moment, the world darkened and erupted in light. A great zigzagged arc leapt between Everet's outstretched sword and the shadeclaw, burning into my eyes an instant before a deafening crack broke the air.
    For a horrible moment, the shadeclaw froze and roared, and then it turned and crashed away into the forest, blood dripping down its flank, looking almost black in the dim forest light. A wild, halting cloud of debris followed it, blocking pursuit.
    The world settled, stones and branches clattering to the ground in a fine layer of pulverized soil.