Deathless (Editing)

Chapter 26: Familiar Strangers

The wonderous creature comforts of traveling along the main road, of staying in warm inns, of fresh clothes, of hot meals, came to an abrupt and thudding end. After three days of ease, we returned to the narrow, winding hunting trails, where we followed a faint path deep into the forest. The shards of morning light dappled us through the thick branches of pine trees as we continued deeper still.

Life was everywhere. Vines instinctively curled toward me wherever we passed. The folds of slumbering leaves unfurled at my horse's hooves. Perhaps I had unintentionally summoned them closer, to open. Maybe the plants knew what troublesome creature had passed them.

I inhaled a deep breath, pulling the scent of fresh pine and earth into my lungs. Feeling drunk on the sensations, on the terrible fluttering of my own power threatening to break free, I road with eyes shut, clutching my fraying repose. When I was certain that I could not hold on any longer, the forest faded into a small clearing and a crystal blue lake.

Tolly led us to the mushy break of the shore, where land disappeared into water. Our horses initially hesitated, not liking the sensation of sinking into the mud of the bank as they walked. I leaned forward slightly and pressed my index and middle fingers against my horse's head, calming him into submission. My gaze drifted down to the mud, which bubbled back up the instant the horse stepped away, erasing any trace of our hoofprints.

I lifted my head and stared into the space between Tolly's shoulder blades. I wanted to ask him why we were here again, why we were traipsing through the mud, if we would return to the life of the great outdoors instead of the quiet, warm inns.

"Spit it out," Tolly muttered, catching me staring at him.

Gods only knew what sort of baffled look I was wearing at the time. "N-no-nothing," I managed, pushing through the sensation of being watched from the darkness of the thicket that lined the lake.

Tolly slowed his horse to match the pace of the Lord High Commander's warhorse. He watched me with an indecipherable look; his pale blue eyes reflecting the motion of the waves. "There is a glen in a few furlongs," he said, trapping his words between us. "The ground is unsteady," he cautioned, "but there is a clearing on the other side. Pull up your hood when we reach it," he said, gaze trailing to my cloak.

I lifted my head and nodded.

Tolly had not been kidding. When we reached the glen, we quickly discovered that the winding path through it had long since faded under a covering of green. Likely, no one had traversed this land in some time.

I stiffened the moment I felt the change in terrain under the horse. Gone was the soft, wet grass and soil. In its place was sharply chiseled rock.

Whatever river or lake had existed in the past had carved up the earth, and the structure of this place did not feel sturdy. Indeed, with every fall of our horses' hooves, the ground threatened to sink and crumble down into the ravine below. Pebbles skittered occasionally when one of the horses forgot to pick up its legs and stumbled. Watching one such pebble roll off the ledge took all my energy not to look down into the ravine and scare myself at the thought of falling.

I don't think I exhaled until we reached the clearing. And what a sight it was. For miles in all directions was nothing but vast rolling hills. My jaw dropped as I took it in.

Tolly pulled up beside me. "It is beautiful," he said, agreeing with the look of wonderment stretched across on my face.

"You grew up here?"

A faint trace of a smile curved his lips. "You grow accustomed to it," he assured me. "Over that hill is Asphodel." Tolly pointed to one of the hills right of center.