The plateau of Adyll was born out of the sea, pushed up through tectonic pressures over a million years ago. To the east, beyond the cliffs where the capital city is located, lies a formidable desert which stretches for hundreds of miles, uninhabite...
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Dark. Pain in my head. Pain in my knees. Cold. Freezing cold.
Vasi knelt in the mud gagged and blindfolded, gravel digging into her knees, her hands tied in front of her.
"You have two hours to run, prey," said a gravelly voice. "Two hours until the princes rouse themselves from their drunken slumber to join the hunt. And then you will die in one last act of service to the God Among Men. Mahleck wishes you to know that he appreciated the gift you left Queen Mila, and he returns it to you now."
Something dropped in front of her with a splash, followed by retreating footsteps behind her. The gravelly voice spoke again, "I wish you good fortune in the forest. I will not look back to see where you run. Hide well. If the Locusts don't find you, the Zora-witches will."
Vasi pushed the blindfold from her eyes and beheld the silver dagger protruding from the mud. The same dagger she gave to Queen Mila the night Mahleck murdered her. She had pulled the woman's naked body from the steaming bath herself when she and the other serving women were called to clean the room after Mahleck left the bath with his child bride. She quickly grabbed the knife and set to work cutting the bonds from her hands and feet.
Two hours. I have two hours. And a knife that tasted the blood of both a demon and a queen.
She stood to gain her bearings. Behind her was a gate leading to the palace, ahead of her a copse of leafless white barked trees. She had been born in the deep forests far past the desert sands, under trees so old and ancient they could not be felled by a man's axe. These skeletal trees looked nothing like her home. They would offer little cover for hiding and her red robes would stand out in the forest like a drop of blood upon a white shroud. She considered shedding the garments for a moment before deciding she would rather die a violent death while warm than a slow one in the grasp of the cold. Of all the places she had been taken as she served tables for the Swarm, this country with its cold climate was the most uncomfortable. Atop the mountain the cold seeped into your bones.
She grabbed handfuls of the grey mud beneath her and smeared it over her clothes, hair, and dark skin. It would dry a lighter color and offer some protection from the elements. She scanned the sky for rain clouds to the west. If there was rain, it would deter her pursuers but also render her more visible. She needed to act quickly before the princes began their hunt.
Clouds were beginning to creep over the snow-covered peaks behind the forest. She knew from her experience in the palace that the mountain was riddled with unmapped caves. She would head to the rocks, and perhaps find an entrance there. Mounted riders would not fare well on steep slopes. Better to take her chances in the forest and caves with the witches they called the Zora than to die hunted like an animal.
Besides, the forests had always been her home until the Swarm had taken her from her mother's tree. Even a forest of skeletons is better than serving a man who feeds on death.
Vasi started her run into the forest, her legs quickly adapting to the terrain as she remembered the loping gait of the great forest runners. A smile crossed her face.
I shall kill more of them than they shall kill of me. I am only one, but I hold all my mothers before me, and we all scream for vengeance!
Vasi's people were part of their forest. As she ran, she could feel this forest as well in every footfall. It was as alive as the one from which she was stolen. She raised her face to the treetops and let out a war cry. Her hunters were barely stirring from their wine-laden sleep. She had no need for silence yet. Above the tallest branches, she could see tendrils of the lowering clouds. Soon the mountain would embrace her in thick mist. The forest was welcoming her.
She continued her run. For the first time since being taken by the Swarm she could run in the free air, feeling it caress her skin. Soft fingers of mist softly swirled around her as she ran, muffling the sound of her footfalls. In less than an hour the palace had disappeared behind her. From distance or cloud cover, she did not know.
The trees were thicker now. Ahead, she could make out a strange structure as it emerged from the fog. A small hut with a thatched roof perched on severed tree trunks, their roots still anchored in the forest floor. She could see mounds of bones scattered at its base, and a thin sliver of firelight from behind the closed door.
She gripped the dagger for reassurance and kept running. She trusted the forest, but Vasi had learned not to trust any person under the rule of the Locust. All lands under Mahleck's control were by nature full of killers. And a mysterious hut on legs surrounded by bones seemed unfriendly in the best of times. She changed her course slightly to avoid the hut, and kept her sight on the peaks ahead, now almost hidden behind the fog.
A few moments later, another hut. More bones.
Change direction.
Keep your eyes on the peaks and the palace behind you.
Where are the peaks?
Where am I?
Keep running.
Another hut? The same hut?
Am I going in circles?
Vasi stopped and listened to the forest. There was no sound, no wind through the branches. The mist hung heavy in the air obscuring all sense of direction and even sounds. Suddenly, to her left she heard a snuffling sound and saw a dark hulking shape moving within the fog, shuffling towards the hut on four legs. Vasi dropped to the ground.
Bear.
Do not move. She cannot see you. Your smell is cloaked in mud. You smell like part of the forest. As she does.
The bear continued her way through the mist, making her way through the bones to stand under the door, letting out a bellow. She watched as the door to the hut opened illuminating the mist with flickering firelight. An old woman bent with age stood inside the door holding a mortar and pestle. She peered into the grey darkness. The bear raised herself on her hind legs and bellowed again.
"You needn't yell, Baba!" said the old woman, disappearing back into the hut. "I'm not deaf! It is very rude. Especially when we are expecting a guest. You will have scared her off by now!"
The bear quieted as the crone returned, tossed down a rope ladder and began climbing down. She was dressed in peasant clothing, worn and grey with age. As her booted feet reached the ground the bear began rubbing herself against her, almost knocking her off her feet. The old woman grabbed the bear's ears and brought her lips down to kiss the massive head.
"Oh, Baba. Back from breeding with your handsome black boar? Just in time for me to say goodnight before you go take your long winter's nap?"
The bear rolled on her back, allowing the old woman to run her hands over her belly.
"Goddess tells me you shall have three little bearlings come spring, Baba. But I won't be here to see them. My sister and brother birds won't even be able to bring my bones back here to rest with the others. But my spirit will rise with them."
Baba made a mournful noise as if she understood.
"Zarinya will become Zoyra, Zorya will become Zora, and a new Zarinya waits in the forest," sang the old woman.
Vasi jumped, for the old woman was suddenly at her side.
