The Weaver's Source

Part Two: Chapter 16

Sighing again, I leaned my elbow on the armrest and cupped my chin in my hand so I could stare outside. The land here wasn't much different from home. The trees were tall, mixed colours of evergreens and autumnal reds and golds, and the ground they grew from was rocky and covered in thistle. The sky above remained grey and the air cold, touched with the threat of rains. The only difference was that it was hillier and covered in jutting rock.

The coach rolled onwards quietly. The only thing that could be heard was the squeaking of wood, the snorting of horses and the twittering birds that flew overhead. It made me sleepy again and nearly I nodded off but abruptly woke when I realised what would happen when I did sleep. I didn't want to have a dream like that again when in company nor was I brave enough to face the hungry Grigore in my dreams so instead I made myself stay awake by reading the old book of my mother, something I had read so many times now I knew it off by heart. It worked, at least it did distract me from Grigore but not from Gabi. 

Gabi fluttered to my thoughts. I reached up and grabbed the small necklace that hung around my thin neck. I fingered the feather, remembering my warm friend and her joyful personality. A small smile took to my mouth but a pang of sadness filled me. I missed her terribly. She would be here now if she was still alive, helping me search for Grigore and gearing up to fight him on my behalf, I knew.

My gaze flickered back to the window and I noticed the carriage was veering down a narrow road, going off the main one it had been following. I saw further down the thick road was smoke, the sign of civilisation. For a moment I just sat still, watching the thin wisps of smoke that curled in the cold grey air. We continued onwards for a while, the sway of the coach gently lulling me back to sleep, before realisation hit me.

Grigore's heady scent of smoke and honey was thinning. I was going off the trail. I sniffed a couple of times before I was certain. Panic filled me for a moment before I pulled down the window hard and leaned my head out. Out in the distance clustered a few tell-tale shapes of houses puffing out trails of grey smoke and held snuggling in the arms of a thin but vast wood.

"Please stop!" I called. "I must go back to that village!"

The driver, a middle-aged man, gave me a shocked stare, not making to stop the large horses.

 "You want to go to Firth? You're mad!" He responded. "No one goes there."

Confusion filled me and I glanced back up the road. The smoke was nowhere to be seen now and the trees had shifted to gobble up the village from view. I looked back up at him. 

"Why?"

"You just don't. Tales of it being haunted you see."

I bit my lip with worry and the lack of Grigore's scent pressed down on my mind. Otto told me to investigate tales of monsters, only to be very cautious when I did. Grigore, after all, was a monster hunter and he followed danger without thought. 

"I need to go that way."

"You can stay with me and I'll take you the long way round. It adds a day on your journey but it's safer."

"I've lost too much time already. I can walk there from here."

"I really wouldn't advise that." The driver replied firmly.

"I must." I responded stubbornly.

The driver watched me for a moment before sighing and yanking on the reins hard. The two thick dark furred horses stopped slowly and snorted irritably to each other, shaking their head and rattling their reigns. I pulled the window back up and grabbed my sack before pushing the small door open and jumping out of the carriage.

"Off you go then. Just don't linger there. Go straight through." He advised.

"Thank you." I said and smiled at him.

The driver simply grunted and started the horses again. The coach rolled onwards, leaving me standing in the middle of the thin muddy road.

I sighed and pulled my hood up and slung my sack over my shoulder before I began walking meaningfully back up the road. It would take maybe half an hour to get back to the fork, maybe a little longer. I wasn't a fast walker nor where my legs particularly long. I glanced up at the sky. It was turning slightly orange as the sun began to set. I hoped I would get there before dusk. Monsters tended to become more active after the sun died.

I chewed on my lip as I continued to stare up at the clouded sky. I couldn't take the driver's advice. With darkness flooding in and without any knowledge of when the next hamlet would popup along the road, I had to stay there tonight. Surely the village would be much safer than the wilderness.

I hummed softly to myself as I walked contentedly in the evening chill, with no knowledge of what danger I was walking straight into.