Sixteen Moons | Shelha Series 3 | ✔

Chapter Fifty: The Darkwood

"Stay alert," was all the mutt said.

The trail did not turn once over the course of the next sun's paw-length and a half. Now and then, Sethral thought she sensed a gradual curve, but these feelings were largely unconfirmed. She wished one of the twins had come along.

Between the straightness and the hardened ground, it seemed the path was meant to be travelled quickly, and to take a traveller a great distance rather than to any particular landmark. It stuck to valleys as the land began to roll, but it was always dry.

Dusk halted again. Sethral had learned over the course of the day that his eyes were much keener here than her own. It was confirmed again as he flicked ahead. "There's daylight."

She could see nothing, but the canopy did seem to be thinning.

"See if we can reach it," said Wing.

But as they kept walking, the light shifted back to dark green. Cool season insects danced in the still air. Sethral nearly ran into Dusk's backside as he yanked back. She ducked around him. There was a blue flower blooming beside the trail. More carpeted the ground ahead.

"Keep going," she said.

The sea of flowers spread out around them. The blossoms were all blue, with white marks on their petals and round, pale centers. Ferns stretched their fiddleheads into fronds around the bases of trees. The path remained, straight and hard and unwavering.

The blue flowers went on and on and on.

Sethral felt a tug on her wing. Her paws kept walking until a second tug drew a spark of annoyance that felt out of place in the serene woods. "What, Wing?"

The mutt had his nose to the path. "Call me crazy, but I think we're going in circles."

She just wanted to keep walking.

"Sethral, stop," said Wing sharply.

His tone snapped something. Sethral felt like she was rising up out of deep water. Not far away was a tree burl she remembered having noted before. Noted twice. She could not recreate her thought process from the past... how long had they been walking? Her memory contained little but the smell of the sweet blue flowers. "Wing, how in Shelha's name did you notice this?"

He pointed; at the path's edge was a crushed flower. "I stepped on that when I started to think this was going on for a little too long. It just showed up again."

Sethral sniffed the bruised leaves warily. Sure enough, they bore Wing's scent. "I'd bet a fire-baked, Lowland berry pie this is intentional."

"I'd bet two," said Wing. "How do we get out?"

"Back the way we came?" said Dusk.

"No," said Sethral, "that path was the real thing. It wouldn't lead into a trap like this and just end there. Wing, was there any point recently when this path got a little rougher?"

"Just after we found the flowers. I miss the smoother one."

Sethral scuffed the crushed flower, adding her scent to Wing's. "Dusk, keep walking. Wing, tell me when you feel the path change again."

It didn't take long. Wing stopped abruptly and backtracked two steps. "Right here."

Sethral took a running leap. Her half-folded wings didn't carry her far, so she crash-landed in the flowers and kept walking. A deliberately straight line was somehow taking her off the trail. A tail-length out, she tripped into what could only be a landing pad. "I knew it!"

She made it back in one glide. "They jump! They probably run one loop of that path to keep it beaten, then jump back to the real one! Come on!"