Chapter 13 #3
“I…I did it,” I sign, half-believing. I conjured a powerful magickal sword, and I managed to use it to cut through the most impressive barrier I’ve ever seen.
Alexus’s smile brightens, and a dimple dips deep into his left cheek, unobscured by his beard. I bite my lip and silently damn him, because that smile is a lovely sight that I want to hate but somehow can’t.
“Be proud,” he replies and then signs, “You conjured the perfect song, and your magick delivered us.”
Much as I want to feel powerful and excited, the thrill of conquering the wall fades. For one, I didn’t truly conjure the perfect song. He sang it to me. I wouldn’t have known how to manifest a magickal sword without him. Secondly, I have a feeling the hard part of this journey is only beginning.
With a worried eye, I study the landscape around us, feeling so small and insignificant in comparison.
I’ve never seen the forest’s immensity from the inside.
It’s always been a mystery realm lying at the edge of my world.
Witch Walkers never cross the tree line, never step foot in the wood’s shade.
Frostwater is as foreign to me as Winterhold will be.
If we ever get there.
The trees here appear as ancient as Tiressia, colossal and mostly evergreen, though there’s plenty of timber showing autumn’s burnished shades, bearing soon-to-be naked limbs. Thousands of trees stretch as far as the eye can see, creating a sense of confusion I’m certain could trap anyone here.
Though the wood is intimidating, it’s also a wonder.
Gnarled roots sprawl across the forest floor, twisting beneath soft moss and winding around verdant ferns with retreating fronds turning brown for winter.
It’s darker here and cooler, the sun struggling to stretch its rays through the forest’s thick canopy.
Frost has settled and survived on exposed branches and in tiny windswept dunes amid fallen leaves.
I don’t know what I expected, but it isn’t this. Perhaps monstrous trees that come to life or shadows that can swallow a person whole? Beauty, quiet stillness, and archaic mystery aren’t what I’d imagined.
Alexus drops to one knee and grabs a stick.
“We’re a day and a half behind the Eastlanders, and a sennight from Winterhold without the enchantment ahead to endure.
” He clears a swath of moss to reveal the soil beneath and begins drawing a crude map that means absolutely nothing to me.
“Nephele and the others will do their best to keep the Eastlanders far from Winter Road.” He draws a double line for the road, sharp slashes in the dirt.
“And that’s where you and I need to end up if we plan to journey to the castle with any sense of direction.
We just need to avoid the ridge to the west and the ravine to the north. ”
“What if we cross paths with the Eastlanders before we reach Winter Road?” I ask.
The Witch Walkers’ magick might not harm us, but the enemy is another story.
“It’s possible,” Alexus replies, drawing another odd line and an X to mark some random spot in this never-ending wood.
“Which means we need better weapons than what we have.” He pauses, scrubbing his brow.
“But I can’t remedy that until we get to Winter Road.
We have to hope for the best between now and then, and that it’s even reachable. ”
Hope for the best? All the sexy dimples in the world wouldn’t still my hands at that remark.
“Wonderful. Sounds like a great plan.” This time, I do roll my eyes.
He arches a brow. “I’m not sure what you want from me, Raina.
This is a game of chance we’re walking into.
I’m trying to give you some idea of where we’re going, should we become separated, gods forbid.
” He carves out a tower and stabs the stick in the ground before sitting back on his haunches.
“We may already be too late to stop the Prince of the East and his men from reaching Winterhold. There’s no way to know.
We have no idea which band of Eastlanders your vision is showing us.
And this wall? This wall and the fire magick we saw in the vale could be the simplest of their power.
The prince is all but infected with the Shadow World, and he clearly has a sorcerer in tow. We can’t know what we face.”
Words blurt from my fingers before I have time to think them through. “I thought you held no doubt for your Witch Walkers’ skill.”
“I don’t,” he snaps, my hateful tone clearly irritating him.
“Between them and our king, the Eastlanders are in trouble. But I’ve seen things in the last day and a half that I never imagined.
The Eastlanders shouldn’t know this type of magick, or at least they haven’t before now, and the Prince of the East is…
” He sighs. “I don’t know what he fucking is anymore, but I can’t help worrying that we’ve highly underestimated his ability. ”
Another we. This time it means him and the Frost King, I’m sure.
And maybe Nephele.
“If the Eastlanders make it to the castle and take the king,” he says, “then there’s always a chance we can intercept them on their trip back through.”
I frown, questioning this man’s strategy and mapmaking skills, but also the logic. “There is more than one way out of the Northlands,” I remind him. “The Mondulak Range. The Western Mountains. The Iceland Plains. They may have a different exit strategy.”
There are other ways in as well. Maybe we should’ve tried another route, too.
“If the Eastlanders conquer the Witch Walkers’ magick and take Winterhold,” he replies, taking his stick and forming rugged ranges, “they will avoid both stretches of mountains when they leave. As will we. There are too many fatal passages on either side this time of year. As for the plains, they would never survive the trek to the northernmost villages. I’m sure they realize that.
Frostwater Wood is the only possible way in or out.
” He pauses and glances toward the sky before meeting my eyes.
“So the plan is simple. We get to Winter Road and save our king, one way or another.”
He stands and turns to help me mount the mare again, bending with cupped hands. When I make no move, he straightens to his full height, and with those big, strong hands planted on his hips, narrows his eyes like he senses something wrong.
Something is wrong.
The Witch Collector and I have indeed found ourselves on the same side, but now that my mind isn’t so clouded and I’m finally inside this forest, I fear we have very different objectives.
“What is it?” he asks. “Say what you mean to say. Your face hides nothing, Raina.”
As though I’m unaware.
“Your king is not my king,” I reply. “He never has been. He can rot in an Eastlander pit for all I care. I do not want to intercept anyone, certainly not someone who might have taken your pathetic, helpless king. I want to go to Winterhold to get my sister before they attack the castle and kill her like they killed my mother. There has to be a way to bypass the army. I aim to find it.”
Something like anger flashes across Alexus’s face, and he dips his head low, ensnaring my gaze. “You shouldn’t be so quick to doom a man you’ve never met. You know little about him.”
His words aren’t as sharp as mine, but they are edged all the same.
“I know he brought the Eastlanders to our door. I know I would not have spent the last eight years without my sister if not for him. My mother would still be alive. I would still have a home. If the Ancient Ones listen at all, I hope they let the Eastlanders have their way with him.”
Alexus steps forward, closing the remaining distance between us until his nose is less than a finger’s length away from mine. “You have no idea what you’re saying, and no idea what danger lies ahead.”
“I know I am going to find my sister,” I continue, undeterred, “and that I am not running to the king’s rescue.
You will find me kissing the Prince of the East right on his disgusting mouth before that happens.
” I pause, stretch my fingers, and shake away the fact that I just brought that murderous bastard back to life in my mind.
“I thank you for your help,” I add, “but consider your debt to me cleared. I will go my own way from here.”
He assesses me, disbelief clouding his expression.
“You are foolish. Do you not grasp that there’s a vicious army and prince inside the very forest through which we must pass?
Frostwater is dangerous and difficult, but it’s nothing compared to what lies ahead.
You will never reach Winter Road without me.
” His verdant, green eyes narrow. “And know this: that is the only way you have any chance of ever reaching Winterhold.” He shakes his head on a mocking laugh, peering at me from beneath those dark, feathery lashes.
“Also, if the Eastlanders do manage to take the king, who is about as pathetic and helpless as you, my dear, understand there’s a great chance that your sweet Nephele, the Frost King’s high servant and paramour, will be found ever at his side. Lovers are often protective like that.”
A wave of nausea threatens. Lovers? Lovers? That word ricochets through my brain, and black dots swim across my vision. I ball my hands into fists, a prickle of angry tears stinging my eyes.
“You lie,” I sign. “She would never.” It seems that’s all I’ve said regarding my sister today.
“Oh, but she would.” He smirks, and his scarlet mouth falls into a tight, thin line.
“But do it your way. Go off on your own like a heedless child. Not only will you find yourself lost, but you’ll also risk any chance of ever seeing your sister again, because if the Eastlanders take Nephele and the king, I will not have time to return to this wood to hunt for the likes of your stubborn arse, which means you will likely die out here, or trapped in whatever construct your sister and the others have built.
” The tendons in his neck go rigid. “You write your future now, Raina Bloodgood. Make up your mind.”
He hauls himself onto his horse and snatches the reins, waiting for my answer. It doesn’t seem that patience is a virtue for Alexus Thibault, or perhaps I’ve tested his limits. Because after an annoyed scoff and one last irritated glance, he says, “I don’t have time for this. Cursed woman.”
Then he rides into the wood, weaving through the trees, leaving me standing in an infinite forest with no more than a lone white mare and a decision.