Chapter Twenty-Four #2
My hands ball into fists and that same feeling of magic overtaking my better sense returns. I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. Davien will never forgive me if I turn his magic on him.
One last attempt. “Davien, can we at least wait until tomorrow? Delay a little? Maybe by changing our schedule, we can throw them off.”
“There is nothing to ‘throw off’ because there is no attack coming at us. Though we have even more reason to hurry.”
“But—”
“I need my magic to protect Dreamsong, and the more we delay the greater the risk. I have spoken on this and I am your king.” His voice raises at the end. Davien points at the ground as though he is trying to stake the very earth as his own.
“No.” I shake my head. “You are not my king. You are the Fae King. And I am clearly nothing but a lowly human vessel housing your magic. So, fine, we ride, Your Majesty. But if there is blood today, then know it is on your hands.”
I turn back to the horses and ignore him as he storms back into the safe house.
The border of the Acolytes’ territory on the north is nothing more than a break in the trees.
As the sun hits my shoulders, I get the same crawling feeling as the last time I crossed through the great barriers that surround the forests of Dreamsong; it inches up my back, causing shivers.
On the other side, I am exposed and more alert than ever.
But there is just more forest ahead of us, at least until we reach a glassy lake. The trees on the other side are sparse, with moss hanging off their skeletal arms. The ground looks lower, wetter, more like a marsh than the firm earth we’ve been riding on for the past day and a half.
However, what is most notable is the wall of swirling fog that obscures even the sun. It’s impossible to see more than one tree deep. Anything could hide in that milky mist.
“That’s it, isn’t it?” Davien says softly.
“The fog of histories, the fog of kings, the rite of passage kings of lore underwent to be blessed in the ancient waters of the Lake of Anointing,” Giles says as if reading from a book.
“So this isn’t the Lake of Anointing?” I whisper to Giles. He shakes his head.
“I find rumors of haunted places to be greatly exaggerated.” Shaye guides her horse around the lake. We three share a look and follow her. “Usually, it’s just places someone wants to keep others from and doesn’t know how to do it other than making up some silly story.”
“It’s not a silly story.” Giles catches up to her. “Why do you think King Boltov never came to anoint himself?”
“Because he anointed himself in the blood of his enemies and didn’t need a lake to validate his claim to the throne after that?
” Shaye’s words are dry and peppered with bitterness.
I swallow thickly at the thought. My eyes are already scanning the mists for Allor.
She could be anywhere in that murk. And she is just as bloodthirsty as the king whom I know she serves most faithfully.
“Because he knew that the fog would refuse to let him pass since he wasn’t a legitimate heir of Aviness. He would be lost forever.”
“We will have no such trouble,” Davien proclaims.
“I hope we have no trouble at all,” I say under my breath. None of them hear me. My mare whinnies and shakes her head. I pat her neck and give a soft shushing noise. “We might find it to be slow going through here.”
“They’ll calm once we get in the fog,” Davien says confidently.
“I doubt that, unless horses are different in your world than in mine.”
“We don’t have time to coddle them.”
“I wasn’t suggesting coddling them,” I mutter. There’s something about this place that has me on edge too.
“We’ll ride nose to tail so we keep visibility,” Shaye suggests.
“And hopefully we don’t encounter anything in the fog that would separate us.” I see Giles’s throat tighten as he swallows nervously. I wonder just what he thinks lies in wait for us on the other side of this magic mist.
“Just in case, take these.” Shaye hands out compasses to each of us. “As long as you keep heading north, you’ll hit either the old road that goes to the Aviness keep by the lake or the lake itself. Should we get separated in the fog, we’ll meet there as soon as we’re able.”
I’m familiar with compasses; as the daughter of a trader lord, I’ve seen many.
But this is unlike any compass my father ever owned.
Instead of the spinning needle underneath a panel of glass, the compass is completely flat and made of wedges of crystal fused together by magic.
The normal indicators of north, south, east, and west have been etched into the stone.
The direction one is going is indicated by one of the wedges illuminating a ghostly green color.
As I turn in my saddle, wedges fade and illuminate depending on where I’m facing.
“Are the cardinal directions the same in Midscape as they are in the Natural World?” I know this isn’t the time or place for a lesson on Midscape’s geography, but I’m too curious not to ask.
“As far as we can tell,” Giles answers. “Which makes sense, given that the Natural World and Midscape were once one.” He looks to Shaye. “How do we know these will work in the fog? Isn’t it supposed to confound anyone not of Aviness blood?”
“There’s one way to find out.” Davien starts ahead. For once, I can’t read him. I don’t know if the fog is playing tricks on him, putting him on edge just like the rest of us or if he’s merely eager to get to the lake; that way he can get the magic from me and we can be done with this whole affair.
“I’ll lead,” Shaye declares, riding in front of him.
“Shouldn’t I?” Davien sits a little taller in his saddle.
“My king, if they’re going to attack, I would rather they attack me first. I can buy you time to escape if need be.” It gives me some relief to think Shaye is planning for the possibility of an attack. “You’ll be after me, then Katria, and Giles will bring up the rear.”
“Very well. If it is what the head of my future armies thinks is most strategic, then I will listen.” Davien falls into place behind Shaye.
At least he listens to someone, I think bitterly as I get my horse behind Davien, Giles following me, just as Shaye instructed.
There’s a single moment of quiet hesitation.
There’s no wind, no birds chirping or crickets singing.
Everything is still with the exception of my thunderously beating heart. I’m surprised they can’t all hear it.
“Here we go,” Shaye says softly. In the silence it sounds like a scream. She moves forward.
Her horse struggles the second Shaye tries to enter the fog. It shakes its head and stomps. Shaye forces it to carry on. It looks as though the beast is trudging through deep water or sand or tar. It’s obliging her, but every step is more difficult than the last.
Davien begins to have trouble as well, but it goes away as he crosses the wall of fog. The mist parts just in front of him, curling like ghostly tentacles around him. I’m close enough that I can trail in his aura. Giles gets only the tail end of it, and his horse struggles too.
“Further proof that the real reason why Boltov never tried to take or dismantle the keep at the Lake of Anointing was that there was no way he could get an army through this fog. What’s the point of protecting something no one can get to?
” Giles says. Even though he’s right behind me, his voice is distant and muffled.
Space is stretched around us. What was once a condensed forest is now uncomfortable expanses of nothing.
The ground beneath the horses’ hooves is muddy and rocky. Very little grows here.
“I suspect you’re right.” Davien notes how the fog is parting for him.
“Let’s hope it’s not parting so you can embark on one of the horrible trials of lore,” Giles says.
“I told you not to worry about those tales.” Shaye’s tone betrays an eye roll. “I assure you that they were just invented to keep people away.”
Yet, it’s as if a thousand invisible hands are running over my shoulders and arms. I can almost see my clothes being pushed by forces I cannot comprehend. The air remains perfectly still, so I know it is not some rogue breeze that’s rippling the fabric.
“How do you explain the mist parting for our king, then?” Giles asks.
“It’s likely a barrier, yes. But ghosts keeping the Lake of Anointing safe? I doubt it.” Shaye’s steely bravery is unyielding. I wonder what would frighten the woman. I don’t think I ever want to meet it. “However, if you’re scared, you can certainly turn back,” she taunts.
Davien snorts. “We shouldn’t separate.”
“There’s no way either of us would abandon you, Your Majesty. Isn’t that right, Giles?” Shaye twists in her saddle, looking back. I can see her face clearly as her expression goes from mischievous teasing to wide-eyed shock to panicked horror. “Giles?” she repeats with a whisper.
I look behind me. It’s only mist.
Giles is nowhere to be seen.