12. Not Nearly #2
She passed the time by finding shapes in the clouds, tracking birds through the trees.
Despite their newfound camaraderie, Cypress was wary of Torren and his motives.
The male could not lie directly to her with the blood oath, but even Cypress could dance around the truth as well as the best of them.
She knew better than to rely on the oath entirely.
The afternoon sun drifted away while Cypress took note of how the trees shifted and morphed.
The longer they traveled south, the more they became something far older, wilder, and far deadlier.
“Do you feel the change, even here at the boundary? I’ve heard that even humans can feel the shift as we near the Wylds,” Torren asked.
Cypress didn’t have to think hard to guess what he meant– the feeling of the trees, the landscape. Instead, she asked a more pressing question.
“You mean we haven’t even crossed the border to the Wylds?”
“We’re in the border, Lass. The Lae lines here don’t influence the surface nearly as much, but many of the Fair Folk make homes here.”
Cypress hummed in response, attributing that to the sensation between her shoulder blades, as if she were being watched once more. “And are any of those folk going to try to make me their dinner?”
Torren flashed a grin in her direction. “You never know, Lass, maybe I’ll eat you myself.”
“Have you no shame?” Cypress asked while suppressing the soft laughter threatening her composure.
“Why should I?”
“One would have thought you would have learned such things since you are royalty.”
“I can either be fun, or I can play by the rules of old men who barely have a brain. What would you prefer?”
Cypress pressed her thumb to her chin dramatically, mulling over the options he’d presented. “Hmmmm…”
“Don’t hurt my feelings now, Lass,” Torren said, hand pressed over his heart.
She laughed and decided to say, “Whoever you lay your sights on is destined for a lifetime of irritation.”
“Is that so?”
“It is.”
“And you think your lover will be any better? You’d emasculate every male within the Keep the moment they found out who really wears the helm of the famed Captain Cy.”
Torren was right, of course, but Cypress would never say as much. “I’ll take my chances and offer my blade to your bride whenever she needs to keep you in line,” Cypress joked, eyes catching on a small, brightly colored dragonfly flitting past.
“You’d take the side of my–imaginary– bride against me?” He asked, sounding as if Cypress had wounded his pride.
“You bet your ass.”
“But you don’t even know her, so much for loyalty.”
Cypress scoffed. “What would the loyalty of your father’s– who you loathe, by the way– Captain be worth to someone like you, Torren?”
Torren shrugged, then drawled, “Under the right circumstances, it would be invaluable.”
“And what would those circumstances be?”
Torren shook his head.
“Oh come on, don’t hold out on me now.”
“Not now, Lass. We’ve officially crossed the border lands.”
Cypress sat straighter in the saddle, taking stock of everything around her, trying to spot the differences from the forest they’d been walking through for weeks now.
Branches hung lower, laden with large leaves.
The tree trunks were enormous, so thick that Cypress felt like five people could stand with their arms outstretched around it and still never touch.
Everything seemed bigger, as if the sheer amount of life teeming within the bounds of the forest had multiplied tenfold.
Every branch was laden with nuts and fruit, every bush bearing a veritable rainbow of blooms.
Plants dotted the forest floor with towering stalks and blossoms so large they were nearly eye level with Cypress, even from where she sat atop her horse.
Moss-covered vines hung from the tallest branches, some even holding large snakes with iridescent scales, tongues tasting the air as Cypress and Torren passed under the branches.
“This forest is ever changing, Lass. We could be separated easily within these trees. Why don’t you hand me a length of rope? We’ll lash your horse to mine.”
“Why is it so easy to be separated here?”
“Do you not remember when I told you the Wylds shift? The path through the trees is never the same twice. It can change between footfalls. The will of the Wylds is not something I would test, even on my best day, Lass.”
Cypress had remembered those words, but she supposed she hadn’t truly appreciated the weight of his warning. Wordlessly, she handed him the end of a length of rope, winding the other end around the pommel of her saddle. When she was finished, Cypress couldn’t resist adding a quick barb. “Happy?”
“Not nearly, Lass. Not nearly.”
Cypress rolled her eyes at his back, settling once more into the saddle.
Despite Torren’s warnings, Cypress didn’t feel fear between the ancient trees of the Wylds. If anything, she felt like she could feel the path opening before them, a settling sense of safety coming from the trees.
The wind whispered endlessly in her ears, her instincts urging her forward, to follow Torren deeper into the Wylds.
Cypress couldn’t stop looking at all the plants, the flowers. The unchecked life blossoming amongst the trees. The Wylds felt alive in a way she hadn’t ever experienced.
As the light of day waned, then faded completely, a whole new sort of life bloomed amongst the trees.
Insects and creatures of all manner began to glow in the dark, illuminating the forest floor. Even some of the plants and flowers glowed, though the brightest of them were the small blue and yellow-capped mushrooms lining the path.
“If the Wylds are always shifting, how do you know where you are going?” Cypress asked, the sudden thought bursting free.
Torren smirked at her. “The trees tell me which way to go, Lass.”
Cypress scoffed. “Really? The trees.”
“Don't make fun, Lass. The Dryaads won’t appreciate it.”
She scrunched her brow. “Dryaads?”
Torren nodded. “Tree folk.”
Cypress raised her hands in acceptance. “Alright, fine. Sorry, Trees.”
Again, Torren nodded. “They appreciate a well-mannered guest.”
“Now he tells me.”
Torren huffed a quick laugh, then shook his head. “Come on, Lass. My people are just through this thicket,” he said, urging his horse forward in a trot.
They only made it a few more strides forward before people began emerging through the tall grass. A few people dropped down, hanging from tree branches high in the canopy. Even more emerged from behind enormous trunks, armed to the teeth.