“Whatever game you’re playing, please stop.”
“A game? Is that what this is?” He stroked his chin before nodding to himself. “If it’s a game you want, then allow me to enlighten you on how this particular one is played.”
A shiver rippled over me. I wrapped my arms around myself to try to mask it. “What’s the game?”
“A riddle.” He offered a boyish grin. “I enjoy riddles. If you can solve mine, I’ll tell you which path will lead you back to Arador.”
“How do you know which village I live in?”
He smirked up at the Forest’s swaying branches, as if he and the trees were sharing a private joke. “A lucky guess.”
I eyed his smirk. “You think you’re so clever, but you’re not the only one. I know these trees and thus don’t need your help finding my way out of—” My words became trapped in my throat as I glanced around the clearing. No…I slowly turned in a circle, searching, my heartbeat escalating when I couldn’t find what I was looking for. “Where did the pathways go?”
“Ah, that’s the problem I mentioned earlier.”
I stared at the lack of pathways in disbelief, unable to comprehend what I was seeing. No matter where the Forest had led me in the past, a path had always existed to guide me back home. It was part of the Forest’s promise it’d given me when I first breached its trees.
Heart in my throat, I spun on the stranger, who watched my reaction with far too much amusement for my liking. “What did you do?”
“You believe I’m responsible for the Forest’s tendency to shift its pathways?”
My heart pounded in my ears, making it difficult to think. “You keep calling this Forest yours; if you’re conceited enough to assert ownership of it, you must claim responsibility for its mischief.”
“I make no such claims. The Forest is its own master; I’m simply on excellent terms with it.”
“As am I.”
“Apparently, your relationship with it isn’t as good as mine, else it’d be listening to you now rather than me.”
Obviously. Curses. I gritted my teeth. “What did you do with the pathways?”
The stranger lazily examined the tip of his blade with too innocent of an air. “I may or may not have told them to disappear for a bit.”
“And the Forest listened to you?”
“Rank has its advantages.”
“But the Forest listens to no one.”
He shrugged. “Believe that if you will, but even you can see that the pathways have vanished, just as I hoped for our little game.”
I scanned the thicket of trees again, feebly hoping for the path that had led me here to reappear. It didn’t. “Where did it go?”
“Not to worry, it’s not completely gone; there’s always a path, even if it’s merely hidden. Oh look, there are two now.”
As if the Forest was the silent servant of this mysterious man, two paths appeared several yards away, each snaking off in opposite directions. He rested his chin on a fist, studying them a bit too theatrically.
“But now you have a new problem: there are two. Which one is the correct one?”
I scowled. “You know, don’t you?” Somehow he did, even though his knowledge should have been impossible.
“You seem to have a habit of making mistaken assumptions, don’t you? No, I haven’t the faintest idea which path you need to take. But the Forest does. If you answer my riddle correctly, it’ll lead you to where you need to go.”
Which was as far away from this man as possible. “I don’t believe I trust the Forest anymore; it seemed overly eager to lead me to you today.”
His eyes widened at that. “Interesting. As I mentioned earlier, it led me to you today, too. Perhaps it thought I could use some humbling from having a feisty commoner put me in my place.”
I smirked at that success. “Assuming the Forest reveals a path, how will I know it’s the right one?”
“I suppose you won’t until you reach the end of it, but I don’t think you need to worry; it seems to like you.”
“Not as well as you, obviously.”
He chuckled—a surprisingly warm sound—and reached out to give the nearest tree an affectionate pat. “Everyone likes me.”
“Well, not me.”
“Unsurprising. You and everyone else seem not to.”
My forehead furrowed at that complete contradiction. A challenging look glistened in his eyes, as if he desired me to call him out on it, but since he wanted it, I naturally wouldn’t humor him.
I folded my arms across my chest as if the gesture could protect me from whatever came next. “As thrilling as this unpleasant exchange is, I very much want to leave. What’s the riddle?”
“Before I give it to you, might we discuss payment?”
I sighed impatiently. “Payment?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Surprised? Everything comes at a price, and this is no exception. So in exchange for helping you find the correct path, I want your name.”
This elaborate scheme was all for my name? My identity truly meant so much to him? “Will you uphold your end of the bargain if I give it to you?”
“I’m a man of honor.” And he bowed.
I searched his eyes for any sign of deceit, but they were like dark, endless tunnels, stretching too deep for me to detect any emotion. I sighed. There seemed to be no other choice but to trust him, even though he obviously didn’t deserve it.
“Very well, I’ll share my name in exchange for this riddle of yours.”
He leaned closer, his previously emotionless eyes now undeniably eager.
I took a deep, steadying breath. “My name is Eileen.”
“Eileen.”
A strange thrill rippled over me as he said it in his honey-smooth voice. He studied me a moment before smiling. It completely transformed his face and caused my stomach to give the strangest flip-flop.
“Your name fits you.”
“And what’s yours?”
“Ah, my identity wasn’t part of our bargain. Now, are you ready for your riddle?” At my nod, he motioned towards the two paths disappearing into the woods. “As you can see, you’re standing at a fork with two paths—one that leads towards the unknown, the other towards your desired destination of home. Because you cannot distinguish between the two paths, you must seek guidance. Luckily for you, the two trees heading them will offer the solution; unfortunately, you can only appeal to one for help. But beware: one tree only tells truths and the other only lies. You only have a single question to ask one of the trees and must therefore carefully determine which question will guarantee you discover the path you seek.”
For the first time in our encounter, I smiled. “A clever puzzle.”
“Indeed. It’s a favorite of mine.”
Despite his still-hardened countenance, light filled his eyes. He was getting far too much amusement from this.
“Are you like one of the trees in the riddle? Do you always tell truths or do you always tell lies?”
“A bit of both,” he said.
“Then tell me: now that you have your desired payment, will you let me go whether or not I answer your riddle correctly?”
He offered a small smile, my answer. Perhaps this man wasn’t as sinister as I’d initially believed.
“So this riddle is unnecessary,” I said. “You’ll let me go regardless of whether or not I solve it. But I’ll still humor you and play.” I turned to the two paths, nibbling my lip in thought. “I’d simply ask one tree what the other would say.”
“And how would that help you?”
“If I asked the lying tree what answer the other would give me, it would naturally tell me the opposite of the truth. If the correct pathway is the one on the right, it would know the honest tree would tell me so and thus say it’s the left one. If I asked the honest tree what the lying one would say, knowing the other tree would lie, its honesty would give me the same answer—to take the left. Whether the tree I ask is lying or telling the tru
th, the answer is the same, and thus I would know the left path is the wrong one and would take the right.”
Admiration glistened in his eyes. “Surprisingly clever…and rather fun, especially considering I got what I wanted. Let’s see if the Forest likes your answer.”
Together we watched the paths merge into one, which I had no doubt would take me to my desired destination. “That one leads to Arador,” I said confidently.
“Perhaps it does, perhaps it doesn’t. That’s the funny thing about paths; you can’t see where they lead unless you walk them.” He bowed with a flourish and motioned towards the single pathway, which twisted into the dense trees.
I frowned at the stranger. “Where’s your path?”
“Unfortunately, it’s different from yours, but I’m hoping our paths cross again some day.”
Well, I didn’t hope for such a thing. “You’re not going to follow me, are you?”
“Only if you want me to.”
I most certainly didn’t. I warily eyed the single path. Although it was currently being deceptively obedient by not moving, it’d already breached my trust enough that I wouldn’t discount the possibility of it becoming rebellious the moment I set foot on it.
I glared back at the stranger, needing to make one thing clear before departing. “We’re never going to see one another ever again.”
With that, I turned and bolted. Branches scratched my flesh as I crashed through the trees, going wherever the Forest led me despite now being unsure it’d really guide me to safety, not after its suspicious obedience to the bidding of that mysterious man. I strained my ears for his pursuit, but the only sounds were my crashing through the trees, my sharp breaths, and my heartbeat throbbing in my ears.
Thunder shook the sky, and after several toying rumbles, a tumult of rain broke from the heavens, soaking me to the skin and filling the trail with mud. I struggled to lift my feet, and twice I tripped.
Through the torrents of rain, I finally glimpsed the edge of the woods just up ahead. Moments later, I burst from the trees and collapsed in a panting heap, waiting…for surely the stranger would emerge, his eyes bright from the thrill of watching my flight.
Any moment now…
But the Forest remained still, the trees solemn sentries harboring the dark stranger within.
Chapter 3
I lay in the mud, my heart pulsing beneath my fingertips, each thud a rhythmic message: I’d escaped the Forest and the stranger within. Even now, I could still feel his presence extending from the trees, taunting me.
How could I have met such a sinister person in my Forest? The Forest and I had an understanding. I’d trusted it. Would I ever be able to return? I tipped my head back to glare accusingly at the trees. Save for the wind gently swaying its branches, the Forest was completely still, as if too ashamed of itself to talk to me.
When the light began to fade, the thought of Mother’s worry finally compelled me to stand and hurry home. Through the thick sheets of rain I could barely make out the glowing lantern in our front window, beckoning me to safety. I stumbled up the garden path and collapsed, exhausted, in the front room.
“Eileen, is that you?” Mother’s voice, taut with panic, drifted closer towards where I lay sprawled on the ground. She gasped sharply. “Eileen! Thank goodness.”
She was beside me in an instant. Completely disregarding my soaked and muddy state, she pulled me into a suffocating embrace, burying her teary face against my head as she stroked my hair and murmured my name over and over.
Eventually, she pulled away and frantically scanned my body for potential injuries. She took in my frazzled appearance and my torn dress caked with mud. “What happened?”
I couldn't answer. I allowed her to lead me to the hearth and set me in front of the roaring fire, where she draped a blanket over my shoulders. I wrapped it tightly around my shivering frame as Mother pulled up a chair and sat across from me, staring intently.
“Something’s obviously happened. When you didn’t return, I thought…”
Guilt gnawed at my heart that I’d made her worry. “I’ve been in the Forest.”
She sighed and pressed her fingers to her temples. “I know you love the Forest, but you know how I feel about your frequent visits there. One day you’re going to get lost and never return to me.” She took my hand and squeezed it.
“I can’t help but visit; I love the Forest, and I’m never lost when I’m within it. It calls to me.” But now I was no longer sure whether I trusted it enough to return.
“You shouldn’t be listening to trees, you should be listening to me. Now, I want answers. What happened in the Forest? You went deep into the woods, didn’t you?”
I shifted guiltily. My silence only confirmed her fears. She sighed wearily.
“Oh Eileen, you promised you wouldn’t go far.” She stroked my hair, pushing it over my shoulder to expose my neck. Her face paled further as her frantic gaze took in the gash sliced along my collarbone from the stranger’s blade, nearly camouflaged in all the mud. “What happened? Who gave you that cut?”
“A nobleman’s dagger.”
Mother gasped sharply. “A nobleman’s dagger? Whose? Tell me.”
The memory of his black, seemingly soulless eyes filled my mind and I shivered. “I don’t know. He didn’t tell me his name.”
Though I’d foolishly given him my own—an unfair exchange. The thought of that dark stranger now possessing my identity knotted my stomach.
“What do you mean you don’t know his name?”
I shrugged. “I just met him in the Forest. It was strange; I’ve never met another person in there before…”
I trailed off, my brow furrowing. The entire meeting and the Forest’s motives behind it were a total mystery. Why would the Forest lead me to someone who’d cause me harm?
“Why did he hurt you? Did he attack you? Are you harmed anywhere else?” Her gaze frantically combed over me, searching for further injuries she may have missed.
“No…” How could I explain a situation I found perplexing myself?
“Then how did you get that cut?” Her hands stroked me uselessly, as if the gesture could wipe away the stranger’s inexplicable actions.
“He claimed he was trying to take a strand of my hair.”
Mother stared at me blankly. “What?”
I shrugged again. “He gave no other explanation.”
Mother looked like she was going to launch into another round of questions, seeking answers I didn’t have. Hoping to stave off the onslaught, I gave an exaggerated wince. “Ow, it stings…”
Mother’s expression twisted. “You poor dear…” She lightly prodded my wound with her fingers. “It’s not as deep as it looks, but it’ll likely scar. Oh…”
She muffled her breathless sob as she stood and bustled to the cupboard for her herbal remedy. She returned and cleaned the mud off my neck, paying careful attention to the locket I always wore, Father’s last gift to me before he left. Then she gently lathered the spicy-scented salve along my cut, each massage causing the stinging pain to gradually cool.
“You know I don’t like you wandering that Forest. If you’d only listened to me, this would never have happened.” She pursed her lips as she dabbed another layer on my wound.
“I was just drawing and—” Horror pierced my heart. I jerked to my feet, severing Mother’s touch. “My sketchbook!”
I scrambled outside, where the rain had become a thunderous roar. Lightning flashed across the dusky sky, illuminating the gathering puddles, puddles that now filled the Forest floor, destroying my lost sketchbook. My heart sank at the realization. I needed to find it. I headed towards the gate, but Mother grabbed my wrist and yanked me to a stop.
“Where are you going?”
“My sketchbook—” I tugged desperately on Mother’s grip, but her hold was firm.
“It’s too dark and stormy. You’ll never find it.”
She was right. My heart tightened even as it tried
to tug me towards the Forest and my lost drawings.
Dazed, I allowed Mother to lead me back inside and sit me in front of the fire. I stared unseeing into the dancing flames. Several years ago after a particularly cozy evening spent with Father in front of the hearth, I’d drawn a picture of this very fireplace. I’d spent hours capturing the movement of its popping embers and the blended dance of its colors. Now that drawing was gone. They all were, lost in the rain. Tears trickled down my cheeks.
Mother stroked my dripping hair. “I’m so sorry, dear. I know how much your sketchbook meant to you.”
I buried my tear-streaked face against her lap. Her soothing touch moved to rub my back.
“Have you told me everything that happened?”
There was so much still left unsaid—the foreign way the stranger had made me feel, his riddle, his fierce need for my name. But none of that mattered now. My encounter with the mysterious man felt part of another lifetime, the acute aching loss of my sketchbook eclipsing everything else. Years of work, memories, and captured snippets of my imagination—all gone, destroyed in the storm. My heart twisted at the thought.
“I can’t believe it’s gone.”
“I know your pictures meant a lot to you,” Mother murmured. “Perhaps you can duplicate some of them. I have a little bit of coin saved. We’ll go into the village tomorrow and buy you a new book.”
I shook my head. Not only could we not afford such a luxury, but I didn’t want a new sketchbook—one that was blank and empty of all my precious drawings—I wanted mine. Was there any hope of finding it and salvaging it?
Outside, rain lashed against the windowpanes, no sign of the storm relenting anytime soon. But as soon as it did… “I’m going to look for it tomorrow.”
“But it’s inevitably destroyed.”
My heart cracked at the thought, but I couldn’t give up hope. The Forest knew how much my drawings meant to me. Perhaps it had somehow protected my sketchbook. “You don’t understand, I need to go back for it. It’s my greatest treasure.”
Pathways (The Kingdom Chronicles Book 1) Page 3