Chapter 27
They rode in silence for the next several hours.
The trees that were healthy were fewer and farther between.
Instead of the wide passages she could follow like a river, they thinned to streams and then to trickles and then to nothing.
By midday they were hopping island to island with longer and longer stretches through corrupted woods.
Soon there would be nothing but that oily darkness.
She could feel it through the web of the forest, the golden fibers fading and then turning to shadow.
They passed a field of yellow mushrooms that smelled like rotting meat and a still pond with fog lifting from the black water even though the sun was bright in the autumn-blue sky.
There was no breeze, but the fog moved strangely, swirling in slow circles that caught the eye.
It seemed like if she just stopped and watched, she’d be able to make out shapes, but Casrian called her name when she started to slow down and she shook her head, breaking its hold, and pushed on.
There was a thick vine that had wrapped around an alder tree, strangling it.
The tree was nearly dead, weeping bloody sap, but the vine thrived like it was midsummer with green leaves and plate-sized scarlet flowers she’d never seen before.
She swore the flowers swayed toward them as they approached until she forced Copper up a hill just to avoid getting too close.
There were odd smells and dark shadows where there should be none. She’d catch movement out of the corner of her eye, but there’d be nothing there when she turned her head. Strange far off noises that were too muffled to be identifiable.
When they reached the next healthy copse of trees, she slid off Copper and just sat on the ground, feeling like she could breathe for the first time in hours. Casrian sat beside her, and they let the horses graze on the dry grass.
“I thought we’d see some sign of them by now,” Casrian said, sounding as weary as she felt.
The trees say they’re still out there. We’re moving in the right direction.
Unable to tell him the truth, she caught his hand and threaded her fingers through his. “We’re getting close.”
“You can’t know that.”
He’d stopped asking her how she was finding her way through the woods. Instinct, she’d told him. He was still pretending to believe it.
“Have you ever faced a witch this strong?”
She felt his fingers twitch where they tangled with hers. “No.”
“Will your patrol be enough to kill her or will we need to go back to wait for reinforcements?”
“I don’t know. It’s impossible to say how long the reinforcements will take to arrive.
If the messenger from Sulen found a patrol on the road then they could already be on their way.
If he had to go all the way to the capital it could be weeks.
The longer we let the witch dig into her nest, the harder it will be to pry her out.
The more familiars she’ll have time to make. ”
A shiver ran down her spine even though she was sitting in a patch of sunshine. It was probably best to assume that it would be weeks then. Maybe even past the first snow. Freezing temperatures wouldn’t make this any easier.
Casrian’s thumb stroked the back of her knuckles and drew her attention to their joined hands, to the absently comforting touch. Last night, those hands had brought her more pleasure than she’d ever known. They’d held her gently after. It made her ache inside remembering it.
She dropped his hand and stood up. “I need to stretch my legs."
Leaves crunched beneath her boots as she walked away.
Sunlight warmed her face as she peered up at the bright canopy, a mix of yellow and orange and toasted brown, birches and sugar maples and ash.
Bright red berries were heavy on the thorn tree.
Her mother gathered those for a tea she used to strengthen the hearts of the elderly.
She missed her mother. They’d never been apart from each other for so long.
She walked the length of the healthy patch and stopped. Just a foot farther and you could already see the change in the land. The leaves there were already fallen, the ground dull, the trees bare and dreary. As she watched, a pair of crows lifted from the branches, eerily silent.
With a shiver, she turned and began to walk the perimeter, searching for a sign that Casrian’s patrol had passed this way.
It would be easier once they picked up the trail again.
She wouldn’t have to stay as closely connected to the trees, and Casrian could stop looking at her with that suspicious scowling look on his face.
The rot was all around them now. No matter how far she stretched her senses, she couldn’t find any trees in the direction they were traveling that still seemed healthy. She wasn’t sure whether to press through or follow the edge of the rot, searching for some sign of the lost patrol.
She was still trying to decide when a flash of copper caught her eye. She turned her head just as a fox disappeared into the mossy hollow of an old log. She frowned.
What was that?
She adjusted course to move closer. There was a disturbed pile of leaves beneath the nearest tree. It looked like something had bedded down there for a while. Hopefully not a wolf or a bear or a familiar.
The leaves had been pushed up into a mound, like someone had piled them together in a makeshift bed. And there, dull and dried on the leaves. That was blood. It was rust colored, not black like the stuff that had leaked from the familiars.
“What is it?” Casrian called when he noticed her stop. He was still sitting in the same spot where she’d left him, keeping an eye on the horses. He was watching her though.
“I don’t know.”
She turned her back on him as she knelt down. There wasn’t much blood, just a few drops on the leaves. She could use the blood to track his men. Just a taste and it would form a connection between them. She’d be able to follow it even if they lost the trail.
Casrian wouldn’t like it, but it wasn’t like it was a spell.
Not really. This was just a trick. She’d done it a dozen times before.
They were getting nowhere wandering around like this.
It was only a matter of time before one of those familiars managed to surprise them and then it was all over.
It wasn’t safe to keep on as they had been, especially if she couldn’t depend on the trees to help guide her.
The crunch of leaves signaled Casrian’s approach. Before she could second guess herself, she picked up a leaf and touched it to her tongue.
Casrian reached her as she let the leaf flutter from her fingertips.
He touched her shoulder. “Rowan?”
She looked up. “I found the trail.”
Straightening from her crouch, she studied the area. Someone had slept here recently. Maybe just last night. She pointed at the pile of leaves, at the blood, at the trail that she could feel pulling at her.
“It’s recent,” she said. “We need to move quickly.”
Before she lost the taste of it.
As Casrian examined the ground, she let the blood pull her.
She saw the wounded man. He was young with curly hair, cut close to his head.
Hazel eyes and copper skin. She had other impressions too.
That he was a good rider. That he was short, but very strong.
That he was one of Casrian’s men. She was certain of it, though she couldn’t have said how, something about the clean sharp bite of his blood, like licking a knife.
He was very hurt. Something was wrong with his leg, but he was still alive.
He wasn’t going to be alive for much longer.
She felt that too. Death was with him. It was threaded through the connection she’d made with his blood.
Casrian turned to study her. “What were you holding just now?”
“A leaf.”
She’d had to make a decision—find his men and kill the witch or wander around until the familiars found them again. She wasn’t going to die out here. No one else was going to die out here if she could help it.
Turning on her heel, she hurried to Copper and mounted. Before Casrian could ask her anything else, she was off. The trail led back toward the river, angling toward the fort.
And it was a trail.
The farther they went, the easier it was to see it. Horses had passed this way. A day ago, at most.
When they reached a place where his patrol had stopped to rest, Casrian dismounted and studied the ground as if he could count how many of his men had been there.
“We should stop here. There will be water nearby. We can eat some food.”
“We need to keep moving.”
“You can barely keep your seat. You’re exhausted.”
He started to dismount, but she nudged Copper forward. “We’re too close. We can’t stop now.”
She could feel it. That tug in her chest was getting weaker. The magic wasn’t fading. Edar was dying. She’d need to release their connection soon. She couldn’t follow him down the path he was about to take. She didn’t want to tell the Casrian that. She couldn’t tell him any of it.
She heard him mutter a curse behind her, heard the creak of his saddle as he settled himself, and then hoofbeats following. The path widened. He moved up right next to her and caught her reins, pulling Copper to a stop.
“Rowan,” he said in concern. “We need the rest. The horses do, even if you don’t.”
She looked into the woods, trying to get a sense of how far away they were from Edar, but the bond was fading so quickly it was hard to tell.
She needed to let him go. It was barely a pull anymore.
She didn’t think they were moving. That made sense, she supposed.
They would probably want to stop to bury their friend.
She closed her eyes and thought about releasing the spell, felt it unravel from that spot where it had anchored to her chest. It almost felt like a loss.
She always felt that way when she accessed any spell through her blood—that she was touching something deep and wild and so vast it was incomprehensible.
That if she just understood it better, she would be able to do wonderful things.
Not just track things, but create and heal and understand the whole world.
Casrian thought all magic was evil, but she was certain he was wrong.
Maybe he’d feel differently about it if he knew she was using it to find his men.
That was good, not evil. Evil was what was out there hunting his men.
Edar was gone.
There was a sick feeling in her chest. Even after she’d let the connection go, it was like some trace of it lingered. Death. She couldn’t stop thinking about the wild man she’d killed. The men Casrian had killed. She’d felt it then too. Death clinging to her. It was all around them now.
When she opened her eyes, Casrian was watching her, his expression cold. In his hand was the witchstone, glowing blue. “We need to talk.”