CHAPTER TWO
ALYSSUM
Ihad never dared venture this near the Threshold, and my whole body hummed with nervous anticipation.
If we continued on this path, I imagined it wouldn’t be long before we glimpsed that roiling fog.
To my knowledge, laying eyes on it was harmless, but then again, the unyielding mysticism of the Threshold left much to the imagination.
As I deftly navigated the thick forest with trained, soundless footsteps, never losing sight of the men I stalked, I wondered what information on its origins actual Sentinels were privy to.
Despite my title, I was strictly prohibited from studying all matters beyond Lunamor, and most matters within—as ignorant as a commoner, Linus loved to remind me.
All attempts at curing that ignorance had been met with zero tolerance, and I had the scars to prove it.
Perhaps that was why I eventually agreed to train beyond the wall, and why I now risked life and limb to follow these men deeper into the wood.
I dropped behind a particularly large shrub, stifling a groan. Prissy and Blondie were taking yet another break, so I waited with reluctant patience, allowing only a small sip from my sheepskin pouch.
For the first time, I hoped Anise’s morning had been commandeered by urgent Captain’s business, and that she hadn’t spotted the teal fabric of my window signaling my intention to train in the forest; if she caught me this far out, once again pushing my nose into matters deemed unfit by Father, her fury would be boundless.
But if this was my only chance to obtain some semblance of knowledge, what choice did I have?
I couldn’t relate to the elders of our kingdom, or even the children who no doubt made their inquiries freely without trepidation.
The Threshold had already existed by the time I was born.
I had no firsthand recollection of an age where that barrier of fog hadn’t smeared each and every map in the castle archives, a persistent reminder that we did not understand the realm around us half as well as we’d like to.
That hadn’t stopped me from wondering, of course.
Did Grenythwood still exist on the other side?
How many people had been lost to the gloom, attempting to find out for themselves?
How many before the Sentinels realized all who ventured forth would never return?
What did that mean for the villagers who had inhabited the forest for centuries?
And if no one could make the journey from the fog, then where did the tales of memory-stealing, soul-eating fiends stem from?
My curiosities seemed reasonable enough, yet they were never entertained.
Every person I’d asked echoed the same sentiment, as though the answer had been rehearsed:
“Lunamorians who venture beyond the wall are lost, but those who enter the fog risk more than their lives.”
As if that could satiate a mind’s curiosity. It certainly hadn’t sated mine, for what it was worth. Then again, none of the answers parroted in response to my inquiries had.
If only Father would…
I severed the desire before it could take root, heartbeat quickening reflexively. It was the beginning of a forbidden sentiment. Not even my thoughts could safely venture there. Fortunately for my wayward mind, Prissy cursed the heat quite loudly before continuing eastward.
We were on the move once more, and I welcomed the distraction, even if it was short-lived.
As I narrowly avoided fallen branches and half-buried logs, prioritizing silence over all else, a sense of indignation settled in my chest. Why should common Sentinels know more about the Threshold—or anything else for that matter—than I?
Unless the truth was even more gruesome than the stories.
I exhaled sharply, a feeble attempt to discourage the tightening of my throat and the metallic taste on my tongue.
Since my wandering mind served only to amplify my fear, I forced my focus to the Sentinels and their trained gazes assessing the forest. Each snap of a twig, or gust of wind held their attention. It was clear by now they knew not of the crosser’s location and were merely hoping to stumble upon him.
I agreed with Blondie on this one; the Threshold had likely claimed his soul, and wandering out here in the heat was an unnecessary risk.
Yet I stalked the men as though the same risk did not apply to me.
If Anise had made her way to our unofficial training grounds and could not locate me, there was no telling how long she’d hold out before raising an alarm, even if it meant putting herself in harm’s way.
I cast a glance towards the sun, observing its position in relation to the shortening shadows of the forest. Midday would be upon us before long, and only then would I abandon my quest. For now, I was a predator stalking its prey—as close to being a true Sentinel as I would ever come.
Their already hesitant chatter diminished the closer we got, and I wondered if our nerves were intertwined.
More than once now I’d mistakenly thought I spotted the thick plumes of fog sectioning off the wood, and my insides began to seize.
How close was too close? Would it look exactly as it did in the tapestry that lined the castle archives, or had they embellished its terrifying magnificence?
Maybe it was closer to a fog fence than a fog wall, and the fear that squeezed my heart could die a deserved death.
Something within me doubted that very much.
I had just begun questioning my ability to judge distance or direction—as if I needed another reason to doubt my capabilities—when something on the edge of the wood caught my eye. I pressed my palm to the nearest tree as I crouched, my free hand sweeping over my belt to retrieve my spyglass.
I hadn’t imagined it. So minuscule I’d nearly missed it entirely, but there they were: gentle wisps of fog swirling in the shafts of sunlight spearing the treetops.
Something about their movement was entrancing, as though they were beholden to neither wind nor time.
They were dancing their own little dance, and as I strained to get a better look, tilting my head and leaning forward, the faintest of whispers seemed to emanate from within them.
The more I stared, the denser the fog became, the louder the voices trilled, until—
“I see it,” Blondie croaked, startling me from my trance.
I fell backwards, spine smacking into a tree with uncomfortable force. I stifled a gasp as pain shot through my scars, praying to the stars above that my clumsy display hadn’t been heard. But the audible shifting of their metals never sounded.
Praise the stars.
I pressed forward with a wince, choosing to ignore the pain pulsing through my back.
The Sentinels’ attention remained firmly planted on the fog in the distance, still none the wiser to my presence.
It didn’t seem as though they’d heard any whispering, either.
The damnable heat was playing tricks on my mind and it nearly cost me everything.
“We’re too close,” Prissy said suddenly.
“We are?” Blondie began retracing his steps, practically tripping over his feet.
“Where in the depths do you think you’re going?”
“I—but you said—”
“I know what I said,” Prissy hissed, running a hand through his dark hair. His muted skin had turned a rather unflattering shade of crimson. “We… we can’t go back.”
“Then what do we—?”
“Silence!”
I almost felt bad for Blondie; the poor boy looked as though he was seconds from relieving himself. He stood statue-still, attention flitting uneasily from his superior to the barrier of fog that grew thicker by the second. I couldn’t tell which he was more afraid of.
Depths, I hardly knew which was more frightening myself.
Even I’d been granted the knowledge that we were only truly safe within the wall.
Stars forbid some bit of sorcery existed in these woods alongside the Threshold; it might steal our lives where we stood.
And I didn’t have onyxium to protect me.
But as long as we maintained this distance, I couldn’t imagine we were in any genuine danger. At least, I hoped we weren’t.
“We’ll continue this way,” Prissy said finally. “Aligned with the Threshold, but never closer.”
Blondie seemed unconvinced, but under Prissy’s unrelenting stare, the men both began trudging through the dirt, one wary eye always locked on the thickening fog.
I tapped at the dip of my neck, unsure of my next move.
Should I continue to follow them? Or had I risked enough indulging in my sudden madness?
It was nearly time to begin the trek back regardless, yet something rooted me to the spot.
I watched the Sentinels as they lumbered farther and farther away, and I felt no urgency to displace myself.
I sat nestled between an ironbark trunk and a rather fragrant wayfaring shrub that had grown wild, resembling a small tree more than a bush.
I could follow them a bit longer, and learn more of their mission. Or I could return to the castle and ease Anise’s no doubt growing concern for my well-being. Why was neither option compelling my limbs?
What am I doing out here?
The warm air chafed against my throat, and I stole a scant swig from my pouch.
The idiocy of my actions became more and more evident as I sat paralyzed.
I could barely spot the Sentinels as they began descending a hill, and when the tops of their heads finally disappeared, my attention landed squarely on the Threshold.
What had begun as barely-there wisps now indeed resembled a wall more formidable than the one surrounding Lunamor.
Gazing into the tree cover above, I could not see its top.
Neither could I see through it to the other side.
It appeared limitless, extending far beyond my vision in all directions, and suddenly I believed those who claimed you could lose yourself in the gloom, never to be found again.
Why would anyone risk crossing? My throat became thick as I contemplated what it might feel like to be enveloped by the Threshold.
I didn’t quite know what to make of it—then again, neither did anyone else—but I had the distinct impression it would be frigid.
The type of cold that steals the color from your lips, burns your nostrils, and bites at your lungs with each shallow inhale.
You might never be warm again after that.
But as long as you didn’t venture forth into the gloom, it was relatively harmless, wasn’t it?
The longer I stared, the more I felt my trepidation easing.
Perhaps my youth had been plagued by little more than a bit of unexplainable mist, upheld only by Linus’ torment and my own fear-inclined imagination.
That sounded very much like a fate I had a knack for inviting upon myself.
I heaved a sigh, breaking my gaze from the Threshold to assess the shadows of the wood.
It was time to return home. I hadn’t learned much on my wayward expedition, but I had laid eyes on what was forbidden to me, and I considered that to be a small victory.
A silent protest of the restraints binding my curiosity and education in a vice-like grip, ensuring I never wandered too far off the beaten path.
Should’ve kept a closer eye on me, Father.
I gripped the fabric over my chest, mumbling a rushed prayer of remorse to the stars.
Thinking ill of my father was almost as dangerous as speaking ill of him, and the well-established web of fear he’d woven throughout my spirit lit up with the traitorous thought.
My prayer only somewhat eased the anxiety weighing on my heart, but I knew the journey home would be distraction enough, and by the time I curled up for an afternoon nap, my conscience would be clear as rainfall.
I stood slowly, pressing myself into the ironbark trunk that had assaulted me earlier. With one last glance down the way to ensure the Sentinels hadn’t doubled back, I turned to reverse my course.
“Alyssum…”
An ephemeral chorus of whispers caressed my ear, so delicate in its delivery that I questioned myself.
I crouched into the brush once more, twisting this way and that despite knowing exactly where I’d heard that noise come from.
Moments passed, achingly slow and silent.
I had imagined it, I was sure. The wind could play tricks this far into the wood.
And heat could topple even the strongest of minds. I wouldn’t let it—
“Alyssum…”
I tore my eyes from the direction the Sentinels had gone, questioning my sanity as I returned my attention to the Threshold. Could it be? Was it calling my name?
“She’s coming for you, Alyssum…”
I stood from the brush, inching closer to the heavy veil of fog that coaxed me forward, breathing my name into the air as though it knew me.
I wanted to call out in return, to see if it could hear me as I heard it, and so my lips parted with every intention…
but something deep in the grey caught my eye.
I dropped to the forest floor as the murky figure came into focus, hobbling through the gloom.
Someone was returning from Grenythwood.
They were crossing the Threshold, and I was going to witness it.