Chapter 5 #2
But trees were not going to feed me, and whatever this was, it meant that someone lived nearby. Someone who could have the food I needed, if I was going to keep moving, and not collapse from lack of energy. My limbs were already so, so tired. I needed food— now, so I kept on walking.
Another one of those structures was just a few minutes away, taller, shaped like a tree grown out of silver.
Its limbs twisted unnaturally toward the sky and around its base.
Coins had been pressed into the dirt around it in perfect lines.
I had no idea what the hell they were, but Rune did say that the sorcerers made offerings.
That they had their gods and their spirits that they made offerings to regularly through altars that they made themselves.
Maybe that’s what these structures were—altars. Offerings to whatever gods the sorcerers of Verenthia believed in.
There were more as I moved forward—some built of stone, some carved from bone or bark or glass. One was nothing but floating lights in a perfect circle, their glow pulsing like a heartbeat.
All of them were empty, though. I didn’t go close to see details, but nobody was near any of the altars I passed, and I heard nothing no matter how many times I stopped and focused on my ears.
God, my legs were so heavy, getting heavier with each new step.
But those strange structures weren’t the only thing in the forest.
Next came what looked like a temple made out of dark grey stone, half covered by roots and vines, almost like it was trying to hide behind them.
It had a doorway shaped like a mouth, its entrance jagged with obsidian fangs.
Empty as far as I could see, but I didn’t look closely. I just continued ahead.
Another less than a mile away looked like a collapsed ruin from afar, until I got closer and realized the stones were shifting, reshaping themselves with every second. That would have to be the strangest thing I’d seen since I ran into this forest.
But after that, there were no more altars or temples or whatever the sorcerers called them around here. For a while, I was all alone to imagine, to fear, to despair.
Then I saw the first house, and a few more beyond it spread out in the forest.
They did not look like houses at all, more like huts built of sticks and hide. Crooked cabins with no windows, and I swear the door of the first one I stared at for a little too long bled. It oozed thick red liquid from the fucking corners.
Naturally, I didn’t go anywhere near it. I went around it as far as I could, until I saw the second house .
It was a small building wrapped entirely in ivy—except the ivy pulsed, like it was alive and breathing.
Pretty sure I’d seen pieces of that when I was in the tunnel with Rune.
And the next house, empty, was surrounded by a low fence made of metal, every inch of yard around it with some kind of a plant in it—plants that swayed in the wind. Moved their leaves like arms.
Exactly like those roots in the tunnel had done.
The realization hit me like a brick in the face.
My God, I didn’t need food. I didn’t need to find any way or ask anyone for anything—I could simply dig my way into the tunnel. The tunnel where we’d come from, Rune and I, the one that led straight to Blackwater.
A burst of energy went through me, and I was running again—farther back from the house, but I stayed close because those plants could be the very same I’d seen the roots of when I was with Rune.
And when I was sure no building or person was anywhere near me, I fell on my knees and I started to dig.
With my fingers.
In the muddy soil.
It felt like I lost my mind for real, but I didn’t stop. God, I kept going like a fucking fool until every bit of strength left me, and I fell on my side in the mud, breathing like there wasn’t enough air left in the world.
I stayed there for a long time.
There was no tunnel underneath me, and I found out when I gathered myself and continued on and found that most of those huts had gardens full of moving plants in them. The ones I’d seen with Rune could have been anywhere in Mysthaven. Anywhere at all.
My hope crashed and burned a brutal death.
I kept walking through the woods. Passed houses and huts and altars. Stayed far away and hid as well as I could behind trees while the magic sometimes made it hard for me to breathe and sometimes seemed to propel me forward, give me a boost of energy, a helping hand.
It was all in my head, anyway.
My head that was full of images of my family, of Rune, of the prince. My life the way it had been, the way it was never going to be again.
He’s dead. The prince who saved my life was dead, and I…wasn’t.
Something’s wrong. Something felt wrong, heavier on my shoulders than the magic, and I couldn’t put my finger on it. I was the prince’s Lifebound—I’d proved that when I healed him. Yet he’d died with a knife to the heart, and I’d lived. I was still here.
Something’s very, very wrong…
It was a long time until I stumbled across a clearing that felt quieter than the rest.
A single house was on the other side of it, less monstrous, bigger, built of dark wood and mossy stones, with smoke curling from a crooked chimney.
I stopped in my tracks, leaning against the tree to my side. Around its back, baskets had been set out—overflowing with vegetables, fruit, bundles of herbs, if I was even seeing clearly.
My stomach growled as if to say, there, there, I want to go there! Feed me, woman !
Fuck, I was so, so weak.
Maybe that’s why my brain was foggy enough that I actually went for it.
I crept forward, sticking to the trees, moving like I’d drank too much for too long. Nobody seemed to be anywhere near me—or in the forest, for that matter. All this walking and I had yet to stumble upon a sorcerer or even an animal.
The back of the house opened into a small garden, simple rows of dark soil and green stalks. Nothing here was moving. None of the plants were dancing with the wind. And ahead, down the narrow path between the stalks, was the food, just like I’d seen it from a distance.
Frozen in place, I waited, counting each beat of my heart until I thought I’d given enough time to whoever lived here to give a sign of life if they were home. They weren’t.
Then I moved slowly, down the path and toward the baskets, reaching out my shaking hands for the vegetables like they were the most dangerous thing in the world.
A carrot, a cucumber, an onion— so many. I couldn’t tell you what I grabbed first, only that I bit into it, and I was eating. I fell to my knees and half hid behind the baskets, and I ate with the grace of a wildcat, Rune would say, until my jaws started to hurt.
Hunger was not going to kill me in Mysthaven, it seemed.
However, the day wasn’t over yet.