Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
As night drew in, the shadows beneath the trees deepened to the point where we could hardly see the forest floor beyond our feet.
My boots thumped against the tangles of roots which lined our path, threatening to trip me at every step.
Dead leaves kicked up around us like swarms of rustling butterflies only interested in roosting in the underbrush.
A silence had fallen between the Champions that was marked with tension.
We’d all heard the forest warn against being outside at night. We were in desperate need of shelter and almost out of time to claim it.
Gunther, Helga and Damon walked closest, their powerful bodies surrounding me as if they were my own personal guards.
But I knew better. They’d left me easily enough when the Raven had shown itself.
If anything, I was serving as a conveniently expendable snack for anything that might come after us, a weak link to sacrifice should something swoop out of the darkness.
I bristled at the thought. I may not have been trained for battle or well-versed in the use of blades and bows, but I was the farthest thing from weak.
I’d survived more than they knew, fighting for this life of mine and braving each day with the full weight of my need for redemption weighing me down at every moment.
My pockets were heavy with stones I’d gathered while walking the forgotten trails through the forest, my slingshot ready in my pocket should I need it.
I had no sword to swing but I wasn’t unarmed, and a stone to the skull could be just as effective as any blade, given enough force and good aim. And one thing I had was impeccable aim.
Devlan hadn’t returned and we’d found no sign of him among the trees. I didn’t know whether to think of him as dead or not. I supposed it didn’t matter much at the moment regardless.
“We’ve got fifteen minutes at best before night falls, and then we all die out here,” Esther called as if any of us might be unaware of the fact.
She was a mean-looking woman with pinched features and hard muscles lining her compact frame.
She clearly held no interest in me, and the feeling was mutual, so I’d had little to do with her aside from listening to the numerous complaints she liked to voice.
“Let’s move faster then,” Colton decided, swinging his sword at a swathe of vines and trailing moss to reveal a new path.
The group broke into a jog, making my chances of tripping on this ragged terrain even likelier.
We’d come across a few rotten barns and a collapsed farmhouse but nothing we could use for real shelter overnight.
The forest had stolen so much of our lands that I’d assumed finding those lost houses would be easy, but either they’d been consumed by the trees or we weren’t looking in the right places.
In my pack I had a map which had plotted the lost human lands and all of the buildings I’d known to have been swallowed by the trees in the last century, but I hadn’t even bothered to get it out. This place was a maze and we’d gotten more than lost in it during our encounter with the Raven.
I hoped to come across some kind of landmark which I might be able to use to define our location, but so far, there had been nothing but trees and trees and trees.
The Champions ran faster, my breaths coming heavily in their stead. I’d taken care to spend time running while preparing to enter this doomed place, building up my stamina as best I could while keeping my intentions secret, but I was nowhere near as fit as them and it was beginning to show.
Damon had already left me behind, Helga and Gunther powering on without me too. I could barely make out Colton’s silhouette at the front of the group, the sound of him hacking through the forest more of a clue to his location than anything I could see.
The others passed me too, and I shoved my slingshot into my belt before hoisting my pack higher on my back and forcing my legs to move faster.
If I was left behind out here, then I’d be facing the threat of the dark alone. And though I had no real belief that any of us would survive the forest once night fell, I preferred the idea of standing among the Champions when it happened than meeting it alone.
I hurried on but a root snagged the toe of my boot and I tripped, my arms wheeling wildly, my palm colliding with the thick trunk of a tree.
I almost smacked my face into the rough bark, but by some miracle, I managed to twist my head aside in time.
Ragged pants escaped me and I blinked into the trees to the right of our path, something pale looking back at me within them.
“Wait!” I called, though the Champions ignored me, running on without so much as a glance back in my direction. Assholes.
I shoved away from the tree and pushed through the undergrowth, a chaotic laugh spilling from my lips as I found an old tavern beyond it.
The walls were thick with foliage, vines climbing them to gather on the roof, encasing it in lines of tangled green, but the door stood firm, the roof intact.
A sign hung lopsidedly above the entrance, an image of an archer taking aim at a deer mildewing above thick letters which named it ‘The Hunting Man.’
“I found shelter!” I yelled, though I was tempted to let them all run on into the night and face the threat of the dark for having left me behind so callously.
I understood it though. Out here, it was every person for themselves when it came down to it.
The strongest couldn’t risk their lives for the weak – the aim was and could only be to claim the amulets and break the curse.
I stumbled towards the tavern door with a smile breaking like dawn across my lips. The handle resisted my turn at first and then gave, the door creaking open just as the thunder of footfalls announced the return of the other Champions at my back.
Colton pushed through the group and joined me at the door, his grin a wicked, conspiratorial thing as he shoved his weight against the wood and forced it wide.
Darkness had almost enveloped the forest entirely, and as we all spilled into the safety of the tavern, howls and wild whispering erupted from the trees.
The sound enveloped me in terror, but Helga threw the door shut on it with a savage thrust and with mere seconds to spare, we were awarded the prize of safety.
I woke with a jolt, my pulse thundering and fingers curling around my slingshot before I could even determine what had roused me from my sleep.
For a moment, I’d thought I’d heard singing, but as I focused on my surroundings, I realised it wasn’t the haunting lullaby I’d come to fear with the rise of the moon.
A series of ragged grunts were coming from somewhere beyond the door and I frowned, certain that hadn’t been what had woken me but unable to detect anything else.
We’d made camp in the largest room, which had once been a bar, the tables and chairs now shoved against the walls, many of them broken so we could use them for firewood.
Our bedrolls were made up on the floor next to the wide stone fireplace, our group huddling close to make use of the heat from the flames.
Thick beams crisscrossed the ceiling overhead, old paintings of hunters hiding behind trees or aiming bows at various prey decorating the wood-panelled walls, forgotten by the people who had fled.
I could almost imagine the way this place had once been, with the sconces lit and the old piano which was mouldering in the corner playing a jovial tune while people danced between the tables and fought to get service at the bar.
There was an echo of the noise they’d have made in the heaviness of the silence here, like that moment in time was just out of reach rather than lost to the depths of the forest.
We were haunted here by the people whose homes had been stolen by these trees, and I couldn’t help but feel like their eyes were on me, their expectations a burden I hadn’t intended to take on. This curse had come for all of us, and my pain wasn’t the only wound which demanded to be healed.
The fire had burned down to smouldering embers, Esther dozing against the wall, her head lolling onto her chest where she sat beside the kindling and failed miserably at her turn on watch.
I pursed my lips, the grunts coming again and prickling at my subconscious.
There was something about the noise which tugged at my memory, conjuring up the descriptions I’d studied of the thirteen spirits.
I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, a thought coming to me which had the last vestiges of fatigue slipping away: the Boar.
I glanced around at the sleeping Champions. It was hard to make out much more than the lumpy shapes of their bedrolls in the gloom, but I didn’t find any other eyes peering back at me.
If it was the Boar, then I might have a chance at claiming it for my own without them ever realising it.
For now, they were content for the group of us to travel together, the need for safety in numbers outweighing their individual desires to win the most amulets and earn the forest’s boon for themselves.
But I knew that wouldn’t last. They all wanted the prize I’d come here for, and there was no way I could allow any to seize it but me.
I pushed aside the thin blanket I’d been shivering beneath and slowly stood.
The grunts came again, louder, definitely a large pig.
My smile bloomed wickedly. If the spirit was inside this building, then perhaps it too had to shelter from the forest at night.
Perhaps it would have nowhere to go and I really would be able to take it for myself without the others knowing a thing about it.