Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty Seven
Sunlight filtered through the behemoth trees that towered high above, making the snow drifts sparkle like a million glittering diamonds laid out before us. A winter wonderland, though even with the sun high in the sky, the cold was bitter and biting.
Our horses seemed untroubled as they traversed the deep snow, heads taller than even Roan. With thick shaggy coats, they appeared completely unperturbed by freezing temperatures—they were bred specifically for the wild winters of the north.
The same could not be said, however, for our group.
Even layered thoroughly, the chill bit beneath our clothes and had my very bones shaking in my skin.
It had been four hours since we drank the warming potions Roan and I had brewed.
A concoction of ginger and flameroot, both helpful in heating a person from the inside.
Though the true warming property of the potion came from the liquid being tempered by Goddess-blessed flame, which Kairen had done before we all drank.
It would be two more hours before we could take the next batch without risk of melting our organs, unfortunately.
“I’m not sure what’s worse,” Bran groaned from where he rode a few feet ahead. “The heat of the desert or the cold of the north.”
“I would say they’re equally awful,” Rena hissed around chattering teeth. “Though the ship was miles more horrid. Thank the Goddess we’re back on solid land.”
My laugh echoed in the quiet of the woods. “I rather liked the ship,” I mused, eyes narrowing for a moment. “Except when two of you happened to go overboard.”
“I’ll never hear the end of it, I’m sure,” Roan teased, eyes rolling with a playfulness that had me grinning.
“Nor should you,” Bran scoffed, glancing back at the man that rode beside me. “Make her cry again and it won’t be me you have to deal with.”
“I have no intention of doing so, but who—’
“My mother.” My cousin's smirk was smug at the paling of Roan's face. Even Kairen grinned as the group fell into peels of giggles.
“Goddess save the man who incites the wrath of a vengeful mother,” Rena prayed, laughter dancing in the blue of her eyes. “Careful Roan, wouldn’t want to get on the in-laws’ bad side at the very beginning.”
Whether his face flushed from the cold or embarrassment I couldn’t tell, but it was cathartic to see the man finally at a loss for words. His eyes beseechingly sought me out, but I merely shook my head, painting a wicked smile upon my lips. I would be of no help.
“You know I—”
“Quiet.”
Startled, I glanced at Roan, wondering if Bran’s teasing had truly bothered him so deeply for him to become harsh, but his face was tight with concentration, his eyes narrowed on the trail before us.
Had he heard something ahead?
Bran pulled gently on his reins, slowing his horse at the front of our group, the others following suit.
My ears strained for any noise, but nothing came.
Only the eerie quiet of a snow covered forest. No birds sang, nor did the bushes rustle with movements of little creatures.
Only the huffing of our steeds could be heard until—
There.
The crunching of snow beneath feet—no the sound was too deep to be made from a human foot. Hooves, perhaps?
“Easy.” Kairen murmured, hand stroking the neck of his shifting horse. He glanced towards Roan, his words so quiet I had strain to hear. “These roads should be empty, no? No one travels the north in the dead of winter.”
“Isn’t that exactly what we’re doing?” I replied.
He glanced back, his expression deadpan and I merely lifted a shoulder in response. Right, unhelpful comment then.
A group crested over the little hill before us, two men sat atop horses much like our own. However a sled filled with covered items was being pulled behind them, two women and a child sat upon it—bundled and shivering.
They slowed as they approached, gazes uneasy as they regarded us. Clicking my tongue, I lightly tugged my reins to the left, making room on the road for them to pass. Bran followed suit, but the other three…
They didn’t move.
My eyes narrowed as Kairen’s focus shifted from the men to the three upon the sled, that charming smile settling on his lips. What was he playing at?
“Hello there,” he called, waving a hand. “Where are you travelling from?”
They stayed silent for a moment before one of them, his voice gruff and worn, spoke. “We hail from Whithelm.”
My brows rose—a city in the northwest. Nearly a two week ride in the winter? Even longer if they had to take multiple rests, and judging from their appearance, they certainly did.
Kairen too seemed to find that odd, though his charm never faltered. “A far journey to travel in such cold weather.”
They remained silent once more, clearly waiting for the road to clear. One of the women coughed, a thick and reedy sound that immediately had my eyes finding her. Searching as if I could see the infection that traveled through her blood beneath the layers of wool she wore.
Her back was hunched as she clutched the child to her chest, her eyes desperately avoiding our group. A sickening feeling clawed through my gut.
“Bran,” I hissed, his gaze shooting to me, “cover your mouth and nose.”
He listened without question, lifting the collar of his shirt.
I slid from the horse, flipping open the potions bag tied to my saddle as I pulled vials free from their wrappings and took a few steps towards the group.
“Syra…” Kairen cautioned, his eyes fixing to the man who had spoken. I could feel the tension his senses were picking up, but still I took a few more steps.
“You must be cold and exhausted after such a long journey,” I called out, my eyes trailing over their features as I drew closer, unable to decipher if they were Luanthian or Solerian with their hair hidden beneath the hats and wool they wore.
“I’m a potions apprentice from Amori City,” I explained when they still did not speak.
“These should help you as you continue.” I held up the dark violet vial.
“This is a potion to help your endurance, and this one will help keep you warm. The child should only have half of each vial however, the dosage is meant for an adult.”
I still had the ingredients tucked away in my pack, so I could always brew more when we made camp tonight.
“We have no spare coin to offer you for the potions,” the second man spoke, his voice softer, younger than the first.
My head shook, a shaky smile pulling my lips. “Consider it a gift of goodwill. They hardly take any time to make regardless.”
The older man slipped down from his saddle and approached, eyes still cautious as he regarded me. “Nothing is free, especially in Amori City.”
“My work is in the Old Quarter. We often give care on credit or for barter and trade.” I offered in explanation, handing the potions over to him. I glanced once more at the woman, clearly ill, lips pursing. “I have others in my pack that would make her more comfortable for travel.”
He stepped back, body tensing. “I don’t know what you speak of.”
We both knew she shouldn’t be traveling in this weather nor should she be traveling at all. The woman should’ve been quarantined to reduce the risk of spreading The Fever further.
“We have nothing to offer in trade either.”
“Information then,” I asked quickly as he turned to go, pushing aside the unease I felt over the sick woman. “We’re searching for a woman named Misha, do you know of her?”
The man’s shoulders tensed, muscles taught beneath the worn wool that lined his body. “Misha is but a myth.”
The words were a snarl, frustration wrinkling the skin around his eyes.
“They say she resides deep in the wild wood, a Healer blessed by the Moon who can keep The Fever at bay. It is nothing but false hope meant to make fools of the desperate and sick.”
Blessed by the Moon? She was Luanthian then. Had these people also been searching for her? Did she know of a cure, or simply a way to slow the spread, as the kingdom's Master Healers were doing for Prince Kaemon?
“Where do the myths say one can find her?”
The man’s lips thinned as though he didn’t wish to say, then his eyes flicked to the potions in his arms and a sigh fell from his cracked lips.
“They say that she can be found where the sea meets the mountain cliffs. Where old life and new melt into one. Where the moon meets the rubble of the past.”
Okay, whatever the Nine Hells that meant. Why did everything have to be so shrouded in Goddess-damned mystery?
“Thank you.”
His head nodded and he hesitated once more.
“The wild wood is full of things that one should never wish to encounter. Travel only in the day and always burn a fire when night falls. Even the wrath of Soli is better than being snatched by the things that roam there. And be careful, the magic there plays tricks upon the mind.”
An eerie feeling smothered over me as I nodded, my exhaustion peaking as my shoulders slumped. Could we not have two days without some dangerous threat at our throats?
I stepped back from the path as the man once more settled into his saddle, waiting for my three friends to move. They did, hesitantly.
When the horses and sled disappeared from view and the quiet of the woods once more reigned, I heard Bran again. “Was that creepy to anyone else or just me?”
“Definitely creepy,” Rena murmured back as Roan slid from his saddle to help me back into mine. The horse was far too tall for me to take my seat alone. Nor did I think my frozen, stiff muscles would allow me to jump to the height needed.
“We travel further into the forest then?” Kairen mused, his eyes northbound. “To the mountain range that separates Tavari from Kezechani?”
“Sounds like that’s our best course of action.” My reply was tired, eyes screwing shut. “This Misha better have some Goddess-damned answers for us.”