by Toni Cox
Now it was our turn to stare.
“You were lucky to get away unseen. They have scouts all around the wagon, up to a mile in front and behind. Two of our hunters have already died because they got too close.”
I played with the bracelet on my wrist.
“We’ve learned not to bother them,” Henry continued. “They bring all manner of human goods through here. We don’t interfere.”
“Have you reported it?” Thomas asked.
“To whom?” Henry laughed. “The mayor? The king? Neither would do anything about it. No, we just keep our noses out of it, and we all stay alive. You kids should do the same.”
I did not agree with him, but, right now, I didn’t know who to report it to, either. Henry wished us a good night and left.
Seeing the goblins had stirred emotions within me that I usually kept well hidden. It was the second time this week, now. Drained from the experience, I retreated to the corner of the barn where we were to sleep.
Thomas joined me. “I wonder what they are doing with all the human goods.”
I didn’t feel like talking and didn’t answer.
“When was the last time you were in the human world?” he asked, sitting down opposite me so that I couldn’t avoid his questions.
“I’ve never been.”
Thomas looked shocked. “Never? Why not?”
“It’s not a place I want to go.”
“Oh.”
“I know how to bend the fabric between worlds. It was something that was taught to me the moment my magic developed, but I’ve never wanted to go.”
“Why not?”
Looking down at my hands, I hesitated. This was not a subject I liked to discuss, especially not today. Especially not after seeing the goblins.
“Freckles, are you alright?”
I looked up. He hadn’t called me that since before our fight. His eyes overflowed with concern, and he reached out to take my hand. I wanted to pull my hand back, but the contact was comforting.
“I had a cousin, once,” I told him. “Kenya was four years older than me, and I idolised her. She was my father’s sister’s daughter, so we were very close.”
Thomas stroked my hand but didn’t say anything.
“When I was ten, Kenya went on a class trip to the human world. She was there for only a few days, but I missed her so much. They arrived back here during the evening of the fourth day, but they never made it home.”
“What happened?”
The words stuck in my throat, and I swallowed forcefully before I continued. “It’s the reason why I hate goblins. Why I hate shifters.”
My pleading eyes searched his. He squeezed my hand.
“Their convoy was attacked. Two teachers and twelve kids. Slaughtered. Eaten. Only one teacher survived, who managed to bring us the news. The man later died of his injuries.” I sobbed.
Thomas’ thumb stopped stroking the back of my hand. His hand went rigid.
“Who attacked them?” he asked. “Goblins and shifters?”
I nodded.
“Are you talking about the Red River Incident?”
I looked up at him. “Yes, do you know about it?”
“Your cousin died in the Red River Incident?” Thomas let go of my hand.
A shadow settled over me, and a heavy knot formed in the pit of my stomach. Something wasn’t right.
“Thomas, what’s going on? What do you know about the Red River Incident?”
He’d gone pale. “Dana, I was there. I was there the night your cousin died.”
Chapter 12
A boulder the size of the palace settled into the pit of my stomach. My head spun, and I felt myself moving backwards.
Thomas had been there the night my cousin died. He had been at the Red River. Visions of shifters, and goblins, and blood all flashed before my eyes.
“Dana, wait.” The words drifted passed me as if they weren’t meant for me.
My world turned upside down as I struggled to comprehend what Thomas had just confessed to. He ~ the wolf shifter that had been helping me for days ~ had killed my cousin!
Kenya’s face swam before me, covered in blood, her mouth open, screaming for help. I imagined her crawling through the mud of the riverbank, her dress torn, wolves snapping at her legs.
It took me a moment to realise that the erratic movement of my chest was a result of the heartbreaking sobs coming out of my mouth. Tears streamed freely down my face, and for once, I did not try to stop them.
Years of hurt, guilt, loneliness, and anger bubbled to the surface all at once, and I had no control over it.
I could not see him; Thomas was nothing more than a washed-out figure through the wet sheet of my tears, but I directed it all at him. All this pent-up rage. This hate I didn’t even know I had inside of me until now.
“Get away from me. Get away.”
“Please, let me explain.”
“You killed her, oh Goddess; you killed her.”
“Dana, I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” I flew at him. Raked him through the face with my fingers. He stumbled back. I kneed him. Elbowed him. Bit him. Rage. Pain. Tears. A last kick while he was down.
I didn’t look if he got up. The frightened horses shied away from me when I entered the stall, but the mare calmed down quickly when I saddled her.
Without a backward glance, I galloped out of the barn into the darkness. I’d be better off alone.
I found the road into town easily enough with the bright moon hanging high in the dark sky. Silverlakes slept quietly with only a few windows still lit.
I didn’t linger in the town but galloped straight through it in case Thomas got the notion to follow me. Our paths should never again meet.
With only one hand on the reins and the other arm wrapped around the hole in my chest, I had to trust the mare to find her footing on the dirt road. Ragged sobs still burst from my throat at random.
I don’t know for how long we maintained the headlong gallop, but eventually, the mare slowed. Blowing like a steam engine, she settled into a steady walk and would not be persuaded to anything faster.
It made me realise that I was shaking. The wild gallop had taken it out of me, too, and the crying had left a dark void inside of me.
After a while, the mare and I both regained some composure. At first, I thought this was a good thing until I became aware of our surroundings. To our left and right spread fields of crops, but beyond those crowded the dark shadows of the surrounding forests.
Clouds sailed across the sky, obscuring the stars and soon, the moon.
Tiny fingers of fear traced their way along my spine, and for a moment, I considered going back to Silverlakes, but I had come too far. Looking ahead, I thought I saw a building and hoped it to be one of the first of Oaktown.
The closer I came to what I thought was a building, the more I saw what lay beyond ~ a black wall of a dark forest.
It rose tall and forbidding into the sky, and stretched endlessly to the left and right. I thought the road would surely come to an end at such a formidable barrier when I discovered the truth about the building.
A tall stone bridge spanned a wide river, guiding the road over it. From there, the road ran straight on into the darkness of the forest.
Sensing my fear, the mare hesitated, and then stopped, snorting at the dark shape of the bridge ahead.
“Good girl,” I soothed her, patting her neck.
The mare shook her elegant head and side-stepped. I couldn’t blame her, for the sight before us terrified me, too. I wanted nothing more than to turn around and gallop the other way.
“What do we do now?” I whispered. She blew loudly through her nostrils as if in answer.
I didn’t want to go backwards. I wanted to go home. Too many things had already happened in the short time I had been away. It was time to return.
With my heart galloping untethered in my chest, I climbed out of the saddle. Leading the mare by the reins, I walked
towards the bridge.
The horse baulked at the sight of the stone structure and the blackness beyond. Her eyes rolled wildly in her head; the whites an eerie sight in the darkness.
“Shh, girl. Alright. You’ll be alright,” I soothed her.
Determined, I coaxed her on. Not for a million moonstones would I go into that forest tonight, but I wasn’t going back, either. If I knew anything about bridges, there’d be a space underneath them ~ I had to try.
The mare’s snorting and prancing had me on edge by the time we reached the faint shadow the moon cast of the bridge. I patted her sweaty neck. We’d made it this far.
A steep but short embankment led down to a broad shoreline; the river glistened like an oiled snake in the dark.
We stumbled down the slope, and I almost lost my hold on the reins. Panicked, I gripped tight. The mare dragged me for a few steps before she came to a halt, angrily shaking her head.
With wobbly legs, I led her forwards. The grass of the shoreline gave way to sand as we stepped underneath the bridge. The moonlight barely penetrated this far, and both of us hesitated.
When nothing jumped out at us, and I heard no sounds coming from below the bridge, I led the mare further in. It was a better place to spend the night than the forest, anyway.
“I’m sorry, girl, you’ll have to sleep with your saddle on. I can’t risk taking it off. I promise to make it up to you once you live at the palace.” I kept talking to her, probably to keep myself calm more so than her. “You’ll need a name, too.”
Her head leaned against my chest while I stroked her neck when she suddenly jerked up, eyes wide, and blowing hard through her nostrils.
My heart nearly jumped out of my chest, and I scrambled to grab her reins properly.
“What? What do you hear?” I whispered, listening hard.
I heard it soon after ~ hoof beats. In the dark, the rider would probably not see my mare’s hoof prints and pay us no heed hiding under the bridge, but I still held my breath as he neared.
The mare’s shrill whinny broke the silence of the night, and I cringed inwardly as the other horse answered. Now, we would have to run.
It would be too much to hope that whoever it was meant me no harm, but I wasn’t going to take that chance. I strapped on my rucksack and got ready to get into the saddle.
“Dana,” a familiar voice called down from the road. “Freckles, are you down there?”
Thomas? No wonder the mare had called out. She’d recognised Thomas’ horse. How dare he call me Freckles after what he did?
I backed further into the darkness of the bridge. If the mare remained quiet, maybe he wouldn’t know where to look.
“Dana, I know you’re down there. I’m not here to hurt you.”
I could hear noises coming from the top of the embankment. The mare pulled on her reins, looking for the other horse. I needed to find a way out.
“Please, just listen,” his voice sounded closer now. “I was twelve that year of the Red River Incident. Born an outcast, the packs tormented me.”
My back hit something solid. I’d hit a wall. The mare shuffled restlessly, pulling to go back towards the open end of the bridge. We were trapped.
“I wandered away from home, and this pack picked me up. They put me in a cage, prodded me with sticks to see if I could shift. When I did, they pissed on me.”
With nowhere to go, I listened to his words. They made no sense in the beginning, but as he spoke, I began to shudder.
“They drank all afternoon down by the river, partied with a bunch of goblins,” Thomas’ voice softened, and I had to strain my ears. “By nightfall, they settled around camp, subdued by the alcohol. Only when the carriage showed up that carried the girls and their teachers, did the pack rouse themselves.”
Noises carried down to my ears, and the mare whinnied softly. A hoof struck a stone, and when next Thomas spoke, it sounded much closer.
“The goblins spread out. Brought the carriage to a halt. They killed the driver first. Then, they pulled out the teachers and the girls. Some of the shifters joined in, tormenting, but the goblins did the killing. So much screaming,” his voice cracked, “so much blood.”
I closed my eyes, wishing I could close my ears, too.
“I saw it all, and I could do nothing about it. They killed them. Killed them all, and then complained that there was nothing in the carriage but girls’ dresses and combs.”
Thomas sobbed, and the tears fell from my own face.
“I know my nightmares are nothing compared to the loss you must feel, but please, know that I had nothing to do with your cousin’s murder. Please, Dana.”
I let go of the mare’s reins, and I ran. In the darkness, only the sound of his voice guided me, but it guided me straight. I clung to Thomas in the dark under the bridge, and for the first time since my cousin’s death, I let it all out.
Thomas and I cried together in the darkness along the river.
***
“I’m sorry I accused you,” I mumbled a second time this morning.
“Hey, Freckles, look at me.” The amber eyes held mine. “I would probably have acted the same way. There’s no need to apologise. I am glad you know the truth, now.”
“Thank you, Thomas.”
“Come, let’s get going. I want to be on the road before sunrise. We want to avoid other travellers as much as possible.”
We left the safety of the bridge and then rode across it. In the half-light of the morning, the forest did not look any friendlier. I doubted that when the sun did rise, the forest would see any light at all.
“What is this forest? It is creepy.”
“Raven Hall, but it’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s one of the oldest forests in Wiltera.”
“This is Raven Hall? I learned about it in geography.” I hated how stupid that sounded. The spoiled princess: the only thing she knew was from books. “We’re not going anywhere near the elves, are we?”
Thomas laughed. “No, they don’t stay in this part. It will take us about three hours to get to Oaktown from here. This road cuts straight through to the town. We won’t be in the forest for long.”
Three hours. A cold shadow passed over me. It was three hours too long in my reckoning.
The sun rose as we rode along the well-used path, and the forest proved me wrong by allowing rays of sunlight to filter through to the ground.
It didn’t do anything for the creepy feeling the forest gave me, and within an hour, I pointed ahead. “What’s that?”
We brought our horses to a halt, and Thomas stared at the hut-sized mess of ivy almost obscuring the entire path.
“I’ve never seen ivy grow like this,” he observed.
“Because it doesn’t,” I replied. “Let’s just go. This doesn’t feel right.”
“The horses won’t be able to squeeze past there.”
The ivy anchored to the trees on the left side of the path and then grew to form a cocoon-like bubble, which obstructed most of the way. The ivy also reached out a few tendrils across the path to anchor to the trees on the right.
Plants I could deal with. Fae magic specialised in plants. I only hoped that the bad feeling I had did not extend to the contents of the cocoon.
I threw my reins to Thomas and then cast out my hands towards the ivy. This power ~ the earthmagic ~ came naturally to me, and it now coursed through my body, flowing from my hands with a white glow.
It barely took any of my energy and the ivy began to retreat. The tendrils coiled in upon themselves, slithered back, or simply dropped to the ground. Soon, enough of the path was clear for us to pass.
“Look.” At the sound of Thomas’ voice, my magic ceased.
Aghast, I looked where he pointed. Three pale, and obviously dead, bodies rested at odd angles within the tangled mess of ivy in the centre of the path.
“You were right,” Thomas sighed, “we should have left well enough alone.”
I shrieked and sprang back. The horses th
rew their heads at my reaction. With my hands pressed to my knees, I gagged.
“I am cursed,” I huffed when I caught my breath.
Thomas frowned at me. “What?”
“Have you ever met anyone who has as much bad luck as me?” I demanded. “I just want to get home. Is that too much to ask?”
He managed to crack a smile. “I will get you home, don’t worry. Let’s leave these three be. They don’t need us anymore.”
We guided the horses past the flowery tomb, and I tried not to think of what happened to these men. They looked like fae, common fae. What did they do to deserve such a fate?
The magic could have been woven by either fae, witches, or elves ~ which made for a rather large suspect pool. If I had to gamble, however, my bet would have been on that dark elf.
After a short while, we took a fork to the left, following a wooden sign that told us Oaktown was only four miles away. I was beginning to feel hopeful when Thomas held up a warning hand.
I could not pick up what his wolf-senses had clearly heard or smelled, but I knew by now to trust him in these matters. He now slowly veered off the path and rode into the thick of the trees, indicating for me to follow him.
Low-hanging branches and thick underbrush made it nearly impossible to ride off the path, but we didn’t need to go far. Thomas turned the horses so they faced the trail, even though we could no longer see it.
“Be very still,” he whispered to me.
I didn’t dare make a sound, even though I wanted to ask what was out there. The horses flared their nostrils, also aware of the danger, but they kept quiet.
Then, a sound travelled to my ears. At first, I struggled to identify it, but then I knew it to be the same sound the goblin wagon had made that carried the human goods.
I could soon hear their voices, too, with their distinct guttural accents.
We stood still, silent, hardly daring to breathe. Even the horses stood, for once, without a sound. My heart beat frantically, and I tried to slow it.
“Fae!” the shout echoed through the forest. “Fae in them trees!”
Chapter 13