Chapter 22 #2
Because I talked to the trees last night and we all agree that there’s something wrong with the trees to the south.
There’s a darkness there, seeping like ink into the soil and the water and poisoning everything within reach.
And that reach is growing, day by day, stretching out roots and vines, drifting in the air like pollen or mold.
All of the trees say so. All of them except for the willows, but you know how they are.
She bit her lip. “Can’t you just trust me?”
“I still want a reason.”
She nodded. Fine. This was the way it would have to be. Still, it hurt just a little to look into his eyes and spit out the lie she’d prepared last night while she’d watched him sleep.
“I don’t know where your men came out of the swamp, and I’ve lost the trail. There’s a ridge in that direction that lets you see for miles. There’s a good chance we’ll catch a glimpse of them from there.”
Once they made it to the ridge, she’d think of another reason for them to keep moving east. Another lie and another until they found his men.
Then she’d bring all of them to the fort.
It would probably be time to go fetch his reinforcements by then.
Together they’d kill the witch. Get rid of the rot in the woods. The trees could heal.
She couldn’t lead Casrian to the fort where he’d have to fight the witch alone. He needed his men, and they weren’t going to find them if they continued moving south.
He frowned. “We could follow the river to the fort. That’s the most likely direction for them to have gone.”
It certainly would have been easier if they’d gone that way. “I need to get my bearings.”
He hesitated, his blue eyes sharp and calculating.
It was like he knew she was lying. But how could he know that?
She was good at it. Unless he had some sort of truth-telling relic hanging about him she didn’t know about.
She wasn’t even really lying. The ridge was a good lookout, and she did hope to see his men.
She was lying about the trail, yes. But it was a small lie. The rest was true.
After a moment he nodded. “You’re the guide.”
Less than an hour later, they stood staring up at the ridge.
“It’s close to seventy feet.” Casrian’s hands rested on his trim hips as he stared up at the cliff. There was no other way up it without circling back around. They wouldn’t get to the top before dark that way, and she wanted to see if she could spot his patrol before the sun set.
“I like to climb,” she told him as they stared up the craggy limestone face.
It wouldn’t be bad. The rock angled back from the base at a slight incline.
There were lots of hand and foot holds. “Do you have a rope? If it makes you feel better. I can find something to tie it to up top before I come back down.”
“I fucking hate heights.”
“You? Afraid of something? The fearless Captain Dain? So shiny and perfect and brave.”
“Stop that. It’s not flattering.”
She grinned. “Not meant to be.”
“I’m not perfect.”
“Oh, I know.”
“Or shiny,” he muttered. “What does that even mean?”
He was practically glowing right now, with the sun at his back lighting up the gold in his hair like a halo.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “You don’t have to climb with me. You just keep watch down here.”
“What am I supposed to do if you fall?”
She shrugged. “Get out of the way. You could try catching me, but I wouldn’t advise it. We’d both die then. Or at least break enough bones that we’d be stuck here until the witch found us.”
A gruesome end. All kinds of ways to get yourself killed out here even before the witch came along.
He blew out a breath. “You’re certain you can make it?”
“Easy.”
She kicked off her boots and shoved her socks inside.
The pine needles were cool and slick underfoot as she stepped up to the rock.
It was true she hadn’t climbed in a while, but it had been one of her and Toby’s favorite pastimes.
It was what they’d been doing that one time Toby cracked his head open and she’d thought he was going to die.
She probably shouldn’t mention that to the witch hunter.
She’d never fallen before. Well, not far. She’d never broken anything important anyway.
She dropped her jacket onto her boots and looked up to study the rock again, picking out a path before she started up.
The first twenty feet were easy. Her body remembered the old movements and she made steady progress up the wall.
Reach, hold. Find a foothold, push. Fingers searching for the next ledge.
Test it for stability. Push again. Her muscles had started out stiff.
The ones she was using now were different from the muscles she used to ride the horse, and it took a while for them to warm up.
Eventually, they did, and her movements smoothed.
She fell into a rhythm. Up and up. By forty feet, she was just beginning to sweat.
By fifty, her muscles began to burn. There was a faint tremor in her limbs. She strained to reach the next hold.
When she was stable, she paused to catch her breath. She looked down.
The height didn’t bother her, but it clearly bothered Casrian, even from the ground. He stared at her like his attention alone could keep her from falling. His whole body was tight as a bow.
Did he care?
She supposed he must on some level. He was a decent man. He’d probably care about any guide he hired. He obviously cared about the men under his command, and she was working for him at the moment.
“Almost there,” she called down.
“Be careful.”
She laughed and turned her attention to the last stretch.
She’d drifted too far to the right, she thought, and there was a crack in the cliff face she didn’t really want to deal with.
Who knew what kinds of poisonous snakes and insects, and sharp-toothed rodents lived here in the cursed woods?
Best not to tempt fate by sticking her hands into any dark holes.