Chapter 22
There’s no cold, no noise, no Kyor. But I’m not soaring in the sky. Nor am I perched on a wall or window ledge. Instead, I’m looking up through a canopy of dense trees at the quarter moon.
I continue to stare at the view for a moment longer before I lower my gaze and look around me. I’m surrounded by dense trees and bushes. A forest. With a sense of trepidation, I edge forward. When something glints in front of me, my pace quickens in anticipation.
When I reach the object, I stare down at it, only to feel my pulse pounding through my temples.
I’m looking at a ring.
My heart thunders in my little chest. Not just any ring, but my mother’s ring. The one Kay used to wear with its pale blue opal and gold band. The one precious thing we never hocked for food or clothes, no matter how bad things got.
My breath hitches. Mother’s ring. I thought it was gone forever, a piece of her lost to us. But somehow … I’ve found it.
With my lungs trembling, I reach down, ready to pick it up, only I do not reach with hands. The realisation gives me such a jolt that my eyes snap open.
Faces are looming over me, all with the same fear etched into their expressions.
‘Give her room,’ Ruben says as I start to push myself upright.
‘I’m fine. I’m fine,’ I say.
‘You collapsed. You’re not fine,’ Kyor growls. ‘You need to eat and sleep properly.’
‘It’s not food or sleep that’s the issue,’ Caz snaps. ‘It’s you two.’ She gestures between Kyor and Ruben. ‘Whenever you two bicker, she … escapes. Goes away somewhere else.’
Both men wince. They exchange uneasy glances but say nothing.
My pulse is racing too fast, though I can’t work out why. Needing to release the tension in my neck, I turn my head from side to side before looking directly upwards. There, without so much as a branch to block my view, is the same quarter moon I gazed at only moments ago.
It’s not some sort of illusory vision I’m having, I realise.
It’s real.
And if it’s real … then Mother’s ring must be achingly close. I can find it. And I have the sinking feeling that if I don’t go soon, it won’t remain there much longer.
‘We need to go straight through Afaven Forest to Galreck,’ I say firmly.
‘We’re not going through the forest,’ Kyor says, forehead furrowing. ‘It’s not safe.’
‘That’s the way we’re going,’ I say with absolute finality in my voice. ‘You don’t want to come, then don’t. In case you’ve forgotten, I never asked you to join us.’
Kyor’s frustration is clear in his clenched fists and his tight jaw, but he doesn’t speak again.
No one else argues.
We’re all silent as we finally settle down for the night, but I can sense that sleep isn’t coming easily to any of us.
There’s a tension rippling through the ether, and even the horses seem to sense something around us. They’re shifting and snorting as if the air has teeth.
It must be nerves from the wolves earlier, I try to tell myself. Only … the horses were still and silent while we were eating the last of our leftovers and while we were training.
So what does that mean? Is there something else out there? Another predator stalking us?
No, sleep does not come easily.
‘So where are we heading? Exactly?’ Ruben asks the next morning once the horses are loaded and we’re ready to go.
‘Exactly? I’m not sure,’ I admit. ‘But deeper into the forest.’
The group looks at me expectantly, clearly needing more than that to base our route on. ‘I saw something … a vision. I saw my sister’s ring. Well, my mother’s ring, truly.’
‘A vision,’ Ruben replies slowly.
‘I don’t know if it’s a proper vision. It didn’t feel like a premonition showing me the future. It was more like … I was looking at something happening now.’
‘And that … vision … is dictating where we’re heading?’ Benny sounds less than convinced. But there has to be a reason the vision was sent to me.
‘It is,’ I say. ‘Kay lost the ring when she was in Afaven Forest during one of the trials. We need it for some reason. I feel like that’s what the vision is trying to tell me.’
‘And they are just visions?’ Caz asks.
‘Truthfully? I don’t know,’ I say, chewing on my bottom lip. ‘It feels like I’ve been … transported. I can smell. Hear. Feel the wind. Can you do that in visions?’
‘I don’t know,’ Caz answers. ‘But I wish you’d told me about this before we left.
I could have seen if there was anything in the library to help.
All Issen texts were burned, but visions aren’t overtly ice-related.
It’s possible that books related to what you’re going through would have survived Korvane’s literary cull. ’
If the visions aren’t Issen, then what are they?
After all, they started before Etta gave me my Morathkian powers back.
‘Hopefully I’ll get some answers soon,’ I tell her.
Though there’s no denying this detour into the forest is going to slow our progress, and the guilt I feel about leaving William in danger for longer is almost enough to make me change my mind.
Almost but not quite. I’m doing this for him, too. For the entire family.
We continue on. I thought the roads would be better maintained, but more than once we are forced off the potholed tracks and onto rocky terrain. How the hell carriages make it through here, I have no idea, but we carry on all the same.
The weather is almost kind, with clear skies above us, so we don’t have to worry about snow at least, but it does little to ease the tension or lighten the mood of the group. If anything, the clear sky feels like bait.
The only real discussions we have are about travelling and whether it’s better to keep going through the night, at least for a while longer, or rest and push on in the early morning.
‘I want to push through,’ I tell the group. ‘Get to the forest tonight. It’ll be more riding now, but we can take an hour or so break if the horses need it.’
The need to get the ring is itching at me. I don’t want to wait. Anything could happen and it suddenly feels absolutely vital that I get my hands on it.
Kyor shakes his head. ‘No. Elska says we should avoid the forest at night. She doesn’t like this idea of yours at all.’
‘She doesn’t, or you don’t?’ I reply, chafing at his response. I don’t want to wait. Don’t want to be sensible.
‘Both,’ he admits. ‘The less time we spend in the forest, the better.’
‘The wolf doesn’t want to go into the forest?’ Ruben frowns. ‘Isn’t Afaven the home of the dire wolves?’
‘She is a bonded wolf now,’ Kyor explains. ‘She isn’t welcome.’
‘Elska didn’t seem afraid of the forest in the trials,’ I say. ‘What’s changed?’
‘Oh, she was,’ Kyor assures me. ‘She was just more afraid that I was going to die out there after you had poisoned me.’
Ruben grins at me. ‘You poisoned the Prince of Morathka?’
‘It was an accident,’ I protest. ‘I was trying to poison someone else.’
Ruben’s grin widens. ‘You’re amazing.’
His stark admiration makes me shift uncomfortably.
He notes it, so he continues with a slight topic change.
‘I heard there were some Rettlings whose bodies were never found after the Afaven trial,’ Ruben rambles on.
‘There were all these crazy rumours running around the slums about how they were killed by dire wolves who then ate every single piece of them, including their bones.’
I wince. To Ruben, all of it is salacious, hypothetical gossip, but he’s talking about our friends, or at least fellow Rettlings.
I cast about for a way to change the topic from the Retterheld. ‘Rohan would blame the Sannings,’ I say loudly to Caz, my voice forced with lightness. ‘Isn’t that what he called the mythical people who once lived in the forest?’
‘Yeah, that’s right,’ she replies, but doesn’t bother looking at me as she speaks. Instead, her eyes are solely on Benny, her lips soft in sympathy.
My stomach twists. I was trying to lighten things and stop Ruben’s intrusive thoughts, but I realise now that it was a pointless attempt. Benny wears Loch’s shadow on his shoulders like he wears the loss of all the other Rettlings from the Eastern Isles.
Deep down, I don’t think any of us expected Loch to make it to the end. Not after he started acting so strangely, muttering to himself and twitching. It felt like he was on borrowed time. His body was never found after the Afaven trial.
‘Come on,’ Benny says, kicking his heels into his steed and urging her into a canter. ‘We’re never going to get anywhere at this rate. The Festroin lakes should be just up ahead.’
He’s right, and I’m dying to press on, to make real progress.
I thought after the Retterheld that every muscle of my body had been tested and strengthened, but apparently the inside of my thighs weren’t prepared for being stretched like this for any substantial length of time, even more so for riding pillion with Caz.
When evening draws in and we set up camp, my muscles are in agony.
The forest is in view but still several hours’ ride away, and no matter how much I want to carry on, I need to think rationally. Elska might be able to protect us from any wolves or threats out there, but the horses would be walking blind over less-than-even terrain.
Instead of pressing forward, we make camp by the lakeside, tether the horses, and set up a fire. When that’s done, we start on the leftover deer meat and some of the rations from Kyor’s packs.
The gentle lapping of the water on the shore helps ease some tension, even if it does nothing to soothe my throbbing muscles.
Mother’s ring isn’t going anywhere, I rationalise. Not if it’s still there after all this time. It’ll be there tomorrow as surely as it was there yesterday.
Yet even as I think that, it feels like I’m somehow lying to myself, and the urge to press on rises again.
It’s an effort to tamp it down. If I were alone, I would ride on, but I’m not. I have to think of the others. Of the horses. We need rest, all of us.
I try to distract myself by thinking of other things. Of Kay and William.