Chapter 57
Albert led us down the narrow hallway to the back entrance, the deadbolt already unlatched.
The moment he pulled the heavy wooden door open, cool morning air rushed in. It smelled of damp earth, pine, and recent rain-a vast improvement over freezing river water.
"Go straight down this lane until you reach an old willow tree," Albert instructed in a low, hurried voice, pointing past the overgrown vegetable patch behind the inn. "You'll see a narrow footpath beside it. Follow that into the woods."
Lucien memorized every word, his face deadly serious.
"Don't leave the trail, no matter how tempting a shortcut looks," Albert warned. "The forest twists around on itself. Leave the path, and you'll just walk in circles."
I frowned. "...That's oddly specific."
Albert shot me a look. "I've lived here sixty years, girl. I've watched plenty of confident fools get lost in those woods."
Lucien coughed discreetly into his fist. "I'll try not to become one of them."
"Good." Albert gestured further south. "The ferry's making its last crossing before midday. If you hurry, you'll catch it. If you miss it..." He grunted, scratching his grizzled beard. "You'll be stuck waiting until tomorrow."
Tomorrow. Neither of us had until tomorrow.
"You've done more for us than we could ever repay," Lucien said, offering a deep, respectful nod before extending his hand.
Albert blinked, then took the young noble's hand in a brief, firm grip. "I've only pointed two tired kids toward the right road. Just stay alive... and get out of my town before someone comes back asking more questions."
"We'll come back and pay you," I promised as we stepped outside.
He snorted. "I'll believe that when I see it."
With a final nod, he shut the door, leaving us in the quiet morning light.
The village melted away behind a thick canopy of leaves.
For the first mile, the path was easy. The narrow trail wound between towering oaks, their branches weaving together overhead and filtering the sunlight into scattered patches of gold. Birdsong echoed softly through the brush.
It was cool. Peaceful.
Too peaceful.
"So..." I said, glancing back over my shoulder. "...How likely are we to actually make this ferry?"
Lucien checked the angle of the light through the trees. "If we maintain this pace... we should arrive with time to spare."
"Excellent. I'd really prefer today to involve significantly less attempted murder."
"A reasonable goal," he agreed smoothly.
"I have many reasonable goals."
"I've noticed." A tiny smirk touched his lips. "You also have unreasonable ones."
"I'm multifaceted."
For a fleeting moment, the horror of the previous night faded. Things almost felt normal.
Then, the path split.
One trail curved gently downhill toward a creek. The other climbed steeply toward a rocky ridge.
Lucien pulled to a sudden halt, his brow furrowing as he stared at the fork. "...That's wrong."
"What's wrong?"
"There shouldn't be two paths."
I looked from the left trail to the right. "...Forests don't just grow extra paths overnight?"
He didn't answer. Dropping to one knee, he examined the dirt. "No recent wagon tracks. No foot traffic at all. But ..." He slowly stood, a cold hesitation settling over his features. "Something is off. The sun is on our right, but the slope..."
My stomach sank. "Lucien. You don't know which way to go?"
"I should know," he said, looking genuinely bewildered. "I studied the regional survey maps of Viremont's border. And from what Albert suggested, there is only one southern artery leading to the ferry."
A sudden breeze drifted through the trees-and then abruptly vanished.
Not faded. Stopped.
The rustling leaves went dead silent. The birdsong snapped off instantly, as if cut by a blade.
A strange, prickling heat crawled up the back of my neck. Tiny, invisible needles pressed against my skin.
I froze.
Magic.
It wasn't just a wrong turn. The air itself tasted heavy, metallic, and distinctly artificial.
"Lucien," I whispered, my heart beginning to hammer against my ribs.
He turned to me immediately. "What is it?"
"Do you feel that?"
His hand instinctively raised in defensive mode. "...Feel what?"
"The forest... it stopped breathing." I slowly scanned the unnatural silence around us. The realization hit me with the force of a physical blow. "We didn't get lost. The path was changed."
Lucien's expression hardened. "A spatial distortion? An illusion?"
"It's a trap," I breathed. "I think whoever did this knew where we were going."
"No," a smooth, cultured voice drifted down from the rocky slope above us. "It isn't the right road at all."
Both of us spun toward the sound.
A woman stepped gracefully out from behind the trunk of a massive oak, lazily brushing an invisible speck of dust from her silk sleeve. Her dark eyes glinted with cold amusement.
Behind her, the shadows between the trees shifted. One armed mercenary stepped out. Then another. Then two more, mounted on horses, encircling the perimeter with drawn steel.
They hadn't chased us down the road. They had drawn the grid, altered the terrain, and waited for us to walk straight into the center of the web.
The woman tilted her head, a slow, cruel smile spreading across her face.
"Now then..." she purred, her fingers tracing a glowing, faint glow in the air. "...shall we try this again?"