Glamour (Rae Wilder #1)

Chapter One

I picked the straightest line through the trees I could and started off, my boots slapping through the muddy puddles riddling the way. In the early morning the forest was usually empty of human presence apart from its familiar visitor (me); but it was creepy now, like someone was watching.

A short while later it was clear I’d done something wrong. The trees were getting denser, and more closely packed together, like I was going further into the forest. I stopped and spun around. My first instinct was to go back. I was walking in a straight line, and I could go back to the slope base and start again. I had been walking in a straight line, hadn’t I? Those nasty curls of fear tickled my insides again. I started to walk back, but stopped after less than half a mile. I scanned the ground. Horrified at what I did not see, I knelt down to get a better look. To my dismay I could not see any footprints or other signs I had passed this way. All Clerics were master trackers, bested only by shifters who changed into predators like big cats. As a Disciple I had been trained in the basics of tracking, of course, and at that moment I felt the bitter sting of failure. What I should have done the moment I’d felt lost is literally retraced my steps and started again. But I hadn’t done that. I’d let the fear get one up on me and plunged into the forest without thinking. I needed to calm down and focus. I figured if I went high, I could see further around me.

I strode back a pace and took a running jump at a broad oak trunk. I reached the lowest branch, which started five feet or so above my head, and dug my fingertips into the bark. Tree climbing was easy, and in no time I hauled my body over the highest bough that would hold my weight. I balanced on my toes, hands to knees. Exhaling, my breath was a plume of wispy vapour. It was cold, it being the end of autumn, but the cooler days didn’t bother me. It was a welcome change since my body had always run hot.

The clouds on the horizon were dark with rain, darker than the sky overhead. They rolled low and blocked out the coming light. There was a thick hum in the air, a sure sign a storm was blowing in. My heart did a jig in my chest and my mood picked up, for I simply loved a good storm. The clean scent of crushed needle leaf on the breeze was refreshing, and a nice change from the ashy smell that saturated everything at the Temple.

Getting back on track, I looked around in a wide circle. I bit my lip and looked the circle again, slower this time. I was in trouble. I couldn’t see the Wall or the end of the forest. I must have run much further than I usually did before I’d fallen. Then I’d walked even further in the wrong direction.

I stood, clasped the branch overhead, and skipped to the edge of my perch. Loosening my hold above, I pushed back with my foot and both my arms stretched back. I arced into a crescent and was momentarily suspended in the air. The crown of my head raced to catch my arms as my legs coiled and flew overhead. The world was crazy for a second; up was down, down was up. Pointed feet followed my legs around and then I was falling. Feet a foot apart, my knees bent to absorb impact as I landed, arms extended either side of me for balance.

That bit of fun helped chase away some of my distress. I was good at identifying my emotions and could control them with distractions if I caught them early enough. There were several notable times I’d allowed myself to fall into foul rages, where I’d thrown things about and punched walls, laughing as I did so. The most frequent were bouts of manic happiness where everything was funny. The hardest to control were the dark humours. Sometimes the twisted things my imagination threw at me were only scary and off-colour to think about, once I’d snapped out of it. I’d always been odd, different to the girls around me, and those times where I’d lost control made some people suspicious and afraid of me.

Oh yes, I’d become good at controlling myself.

Back down below the forest canopy it was dark. The sun-rays had not broken through the leaves, and the understory had a monochromatic look. Silver bark, grey leaves and black spaces between. I pushed some hair that had gotten loose from my makeshift bun out of my eyes, and breathed in. Smells of the forest, nutty sycamore maples and sweet night flowers releasing the last of their fragrance, were strangely comforting. I was deep into the wild and civilization was far behind, but I knew panicking would only make things worse.