“I don’t think we have to worry about any danger from Frist,” Nicholas said. “He helped save my village twenty years ago. He’s one of the good ones. He never let his power get the best of him.”
“I hope you’re right, Nicholas. Because if only half of what I’ve been told about the wizard Vellan in the Northern Mountains is true, then I’d step gingerly around the whole pack of those magic men, if you understand.”
“We do,” Leo said. “But I think we’ll be fine.”
“And we really appreciate your help, Hobin, and will definitely let King Justin know of your contribution to our cause,” Nicholas added before inquiring about how much he would charge them for his guide services on behalf of the King of Arrondale.
“We can discuss the particulars after another round of ale and a second bite to eat. I’m hungry again after all this talking,” he said. “But you can lessen a portion of my fee by contributing to the costs of our provisions. I have more than enough in my home for the first leg of our journey to Beetle Lake, but we’ll need to resupply once we arrive. There are a few villages along the water.”
“A deal,” Nicholas replied, sealing their agreement by raising his cup.
“And it wouldn’t hurt either if you’d mention my mapmaking skills to your King,” he modestly mentioned. “If he’d like copies of my works to update his libraries, why, I’m sure his aides and I could negotiate a fair price. Perhaps he’d even want to hire me from time to time to survey parts of his kingdom. Who’s to say?” he said with a shrug before downing the rest of his ale. “But again, we can discuss the particulars later. Now I’m simply hungry.”
The trio indulged themselves with more ale and a second meal, talking until the sun set and the deepening dusk of twilight silently wrapped itself around the trees and the cabin. As darkness fully settled in, Nicholas and Leo helped Hobin finish some outside chores that needed attending to before their departure the following morning. Later, the trio prepared their packs, filling them with enough food and other supplies to get them to Beetle Lake.
“I’d like to leave shortly after sunrise,” Hobin said. “We’ll drive to a farm a couple miles down the main road. I have an arrangement with the owner to leave Frank and Gus there whenever I go on some of my longer adventures. My dogs only accompany me on the shorter ones. We’ll enter the Dunn Hills from there and be on our way.”
“How long until we get to Wolf Lake?” Leo asked, wearily recalling their time in the Cashua Forest.
“The stretch of woods to Beetle Lake will be the toughest, most monotonous part of our journey,” he bluntly explained. “Expect a handful of days on your feet, depending on how ambitious we are and how the weather cooperates. But once we arrive there, the scenery will pick up your spirits. The lakes and tree-covered mountains are a sight to behold. We’ll still have about a third of the journey left to complete once we arrive at Beetle Lake, but it’ll be a much more pleasant endeavor from there on.”
“Well, if Leo and I survived nine days roaming aimlessly inside the Cashua, then I suppose we can survive this, too.” Nicholas smirked at his friend. “Just think of all the stories you’ll get to tell Megan when you return.”
“Oh, I’m sure she’ll want to hear about every tree I walked past. And just when I stopped having dreams about being lost in the woods,” he joked. “But if that’s the path before us, I intend to start out with a good night’s sleep. Imagining the road ahead–not to mention drinking one too many cups of ale–has brought me to the brink of exhaustion. So if you’ll point me to my spot on the floor, Hobin, I think I’ll turn in.”
“Good advice for us all,” he replied, indicating that Frank and Gus would be more than happy to forfeit their sleeping space near the hearth for one night.
As the nearly full Bear Moon rose high in the east in a bitter autumn sky, the three travelers succumbed to deep and dreamless sleep to prepare for the tiring journey ahead. Wood smoke continued to issue from the chimney throughout the night, climbing high above the tips of the pine trees that surrounded the cabin like silent sentries as a field of icy-white stars watched from above.
Another pair of eyes also watched the cabin from deep inside the woods, securely hidden among trees and rocks and dried fern. The individual was one of the two men who had observed Nicholas and Leo leave the Mossy Boulder with Lane Fish earlier that day. The other man was lying on the ground nearby, fast asleep as they took turns spying on Hobin’s cabin. Both men were now wearing the long, brown coats typical of a soldier from the Northern Isles, an article of clothing they had temporarily abandoned while spying among the population of Woodwater for the past few days.
The soldier wrapped his arms around himself for warmth, his hood over his head, wondering if rafting up the Lorren River would have been so bad compared to this monotonous duty. But if the two men who had arrived here earlier in the day possessed the unmade key to the Spirit Box, then securing that prize for the wizard Caldurian would do much for his career. The two soldiers had earlier decided to steal the medallion whenever the first opportunity presented itself, whether the object had been remade into a key by then or not. All they had to do now was wait for the men inside the cabin to begin their journey and then follow them. After that, it was simply a matter of biding their time and striking at the right moment. The man exhaled a puff of ghostly white breath into the frosty, moonlit night, continuing his lonely watch.
CHAPTER 52
Trees and Footsteps
Nicholas and Leo awoke to cold darkness and throbbing temples, wanting only another hour’s rest when they heard Hobin stirring in an adjacent room. When he strolled into the main section of the cabin, his booming voice roused them fully awake. Nicholas knew that he and Leo could no longer delay the inevitable. It was time to move on and seek out the wizard Frist.
“Two fewer rounds of ale last night would have been a wise decision,” he groggily muttered as he stood and stretched by the glowing embers in the fireplace. Nicholas leaned on the mantel, burying his head in his arms. “I could sleep right here.”
“A few gulps of cold stream water will revive you,” Hobin said, seeming in cheerful spirits. “That particular brew does have a delayed kick if you’re not used to it.”
Leo nodded as he raked his fingers through his hair and plodded silently out the front door. Hobin chuckled and started to make breakfast.
Less than two hours later, after enjoying a filling meal and a pot of hot tea, the trio departed the cabin. They headed up the long path to the main road in a rickety, horse-drawn cart, with Frank and Gus lying lazily in back among the heavy packs. The sky was painted a rich shade of blue and blazed with sunshine, yet the air contained a biting chill. Soon they arrived at a farm where Hobin dropped off his beloved canines with the owner, promising to be back in a couple of weeks. After donning their backpacks, the trio continued down the road on foot for a few minutes until Hobin pointed out a small stream emanating from within the trees to their left.
“We’ll enter the Dunn Hills along that watercourse and follow it for a mile or so,” he said, leading the way into the thick woods. “Now the fun begins!” he added with childlike excitement.
They entered the trees unceremoniously, accompanied by the pleasant gurgle of creek water to their right and a flurry of private thoughts swirling in their minds. Whether it was the abundant sunshine or because they had an experienced guide with them, Nicholas and Leo both commented that the woodland atmosphere seemed more hospitable and less encroaching here than when they had entered the Cashua Forest fifteen days ago. But after several hours into the grueling hike with a few rest stops, both men again endured an unrelenting test of their patience and endurance, yearning for the sight of the open air or a spread of clear, blue water.
“I warned you that this first stretch to Beetle Lake would be the toughest. There’s nothing but trees upon trees until we arrive,” Hobin said, contentedly hiking across the leaf-littered floor with a piece of a long maple branch in hand to use
as a walking stick.
“And you kept your promise to a fault,” Leo joked. “But I don’t expect to get lost this time, so we have that going for us.”
“Still, it is beautiful here,” Nicholas said, observing the slanted rays of sunlight stabbing through the rich green pines and the nearly leafless maple, elm and birch trees. “I suppose the more you wander through the woods, the more you appreciate them.”
“How true,” Hobin replied. “And just wait until the lakes and hills unfold before your eyes. You’ll never want to leave.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Nicholas said. “But what possessed you to devote so much of your life to exploring this region?”
Hobin, leading the group, stopped and turned to his companions. “Because it’s my passion,” he said as if the answer should have been obvious. “As you said, I appreciate the woods. I fell in love with them many years ago,” he explained before continuing at his typically brisk pace.
“When did you first start exploring?” Leo asked, sensing that Hobin was willing to open up a bit and wanting to learn more about their guide.
“I was about your age. Maybe a little younger. My cousin and I decided to explore the hills for a few days out of sheer boredom from working on my uncle’s farm.” Hobin spaced his words between the rhythmic pattern of his deep breaths and steady footsteps. “Well, my cousin grew weary of all the hiking required for such an endeavor and became annoyed with my persistent requests to explore the Dunn region even further. He preferred a more leisurely existence in the open air. I, however, was captivated with this place when I climbed my first mountain and saw Lake Lily in the distance gleaming with the most brilliant shade of blue under the dazzling sunshine. I returned countless times over the years and met several wonderful people living in the villages along Lake Lily’s northwestern shore and along Great Arrow Lake just beyond.”
“Why would folks want to live among these hills?” Leo asked, wondering what possessed one to carve out a life in such confining surroundings.
“While the scattered populations aren’t very large, some of the heartier souls in Laparia have chosen to make their homes in this region or were born here,” Hobin said. “When we arrive near the lakes, you’ll see that some of the land has been cleared and tilled and life goes on pretty much like in other parts of the world. Day to day living here can be tougher though, being cut off from much of the world and enduring extremely harsh winters from time to time. Still, some people thrive in it.”
“Including you?” Nicholas asked.
Hobin laughed. “To a point. After all, I always return to my life in Woodwater, though I did live on Lake Lily for nearly a year in my younger days.” He grew silent, the dull pounding of his walking stick upon the hard soil audible in the cool autumn air. “I had almost stayed there too, but…”
Leo gently prodded him. “But what?”
“Oh, I don’t want to bore you two with ancient history,” he said, pointing up a slight incline as he quickly changed the subject. “If my memory proves correct, there should be a small clearing just a few minutes away. We can stop there to rest and have lunch. My feet are feeling the miles, I’m not ashamed to say.”
“Mine too,” Nicholas added as the tree trunks, branches and fallen leaves passed by in a blur of faded colors. He tried to calculate how many miles he had walked since fleeing Kanesbury forty-nine days ago. He wondered what Katherine was doing at this moment, unaware that she and her friends and neighbors were seated inside the village hall listening in horrified amazement as the wizard Caldurian claimed control over Kanesbury, shattering all the windows inside the hall with a single blast of magic to demonstrate his seriousness.
He also wondered how King Justin’s preparations for the counterattacks in Montavia and Rhiál were progressing as he and Prince Gregory gathered and supplied two separate armies for the long marches ahead. What Nicholas didn’t know was that Prince William and a man named Eucádus were also readying additional forces with King Cedric of Drumaya. They were two days from departing over the Kincarin Plains to launch the first strike against Vellan’s ruthless puppet, King Drogin.
And amid that wild whirl of speculation, both joyful and heartbreaking images of Ivy were never far from Nicholas’ thoughts. She was the one constant he carried with him in his heart and mind as he slogged on. Though he imagined one day rescuing her, he fearfully wondered if those dreams would forever remain unrealized. Did he truly possess the ability, resources and sheer luck to find her? And was she really still alive? For a moment, he speculated whether he was simply holding on to an improbable vision in order to avoid facing a grim reality–that Ivy would never again be found. His face tightened as he tried to dismiss such horrid musings.
“What are you thinking about?” Leo’s voice finally broke down the mental barrier between Nicholas and the rest of the world.
He looked up. “Huh?”
Leo shook his head in amusement, walking beside his friend as Hobin swiftly led the way through the woods. “I’ve been trying to get your attention for the last minute. Your expression looked as hard as stone. I thought you might be walking in your sleep.”
“Had a few things on my mind. Did you want something?”
“Only wondering what was bothering you as you appeared troubled,” Leo said with concern. “Thinking about Ivy?”
“When don’t I?”
“Who can blame you?” he replied, wishing there was something he could do or say to make a difference. “Anything else you want to talk about? We have all the time in the world.”
“No, I’m fine,” Nicholas said appreciatively. “Not really in the talking mood.”
“Okay,” Leo replied.
“But perhaps you’re in the eating mood?” Hobin said as he suddenly stopped and pointed ahead. “We’re at the clearing. If you gentlemen are prepared to take a breather, this is the place to do it. I’ll get a fire going as there’s plenty of dry kindling around. A hot lunch will do you good as you acclimate to what will be your new home for the next several days.”
“If the Cashua Forest hasn’t already done that, nothing will!” Leo said with a laugh, recalling that tortuous journey with a mix of pride and dread. “But I won’t turn my nose up at a hot lunch. So if you’re willing to cook the first one, I’ll dig out the tin plates.”
They enjoyed a leisurely meal and an extended rest, delighted to see a swath of blue sky and sunshine above them for a short while. They continued on as the maze of trees and undergrowth silently enveloped them again. Hours later, as twilight turned to nightfall, the trio made camp among a clump of pine trees beside a tiny stream. Nicholas built a fire, recalling that cold, dark morning in Aunt Castella’s house where he set some kindling ablaze at the kitchen hearth with Ivy kneeling at his side. It seemed so long ago. After Leo and Hobin prepared dinner, the tired travelers sat in front of the crackling fire, enjoying some quiet conversation with their meal.
An hour later, as the flickering tips of the red and orange flames licked the cold air, a fleet of clouds moved in. The stars were blotted out and the glow of the Bear Moon, a day shy of full, climbed in the east. The trees stood still amid the thick and oppressive silence. The glowing embers at the base of the fire dimmed and brightened like dozens of watchful eyes. Soon after, Nicholas, Leo and Hobin each found a spot near the flames, and wrapped snugly in their coats and blankets, they fell promptly to sleep.
Nicholas opened his eyes to blinding darkness, not sure what time of the night it was, or for a moment, even where he was until he recognized the glow of the dying fire and the stark silhouettes of towering trees. Had a disturbance in the forest awakened him? A snapped twig perhaps? Or was it merely a noise from a dream? He sat up and clutched a blanket around his shoulders. Leo was fast asleep nearby. When he scanned the ground by the fire, his heart skipped a beat. Hobin was missing. His blankets had been left in a pile. Nicholas got to his feet and looked around, turning in a slow, steady circle.
He noticed a f
lash of light deep in the trees behind him, gone for one moment and then reappearing the next. It bobbed slightly up and down as if magically floating. Slowly the light grew nearer and burned steadier, mesmerizing Nicholas who had it locked in his gaze. Soon the outline of a body was visible in the glow of the flame and then the features of a familiar face. Nicholas exhaled, relieved that Hobin had returned.
“What’s going on?” he whispered. “Where have you been?”
“Sorry I woke you,” he softly replied, bending down and placing the flaming torch into the fire. “I was scouting the area. I thought I heard movement through the woods. Woke me out of a sound sleep.” He indicated for Nicholas to lean in closer. “I thought I heard voices.”
“Did you find anything?”
Hobin shook his head. “No. But maybe tomorrow I’ll see something in the full light of day. I’m not convinced we’re alone.”
A chill ran through Nicholas upon hearing those words. Leo stirred, raising his head while still on the verge of a deep sleep.
“Did you load the apple cart yet?” he muttered, his heavy eyelids barely raised.
“All taken care of,” Nicholas said. “Go back to sleep, Leo. I’ll wake you when it’s time for deliveries.”
“Okay,” he was barely able to reply, his head dropping back into the crook of his arm as sleep again consumed him. “I just…”
Nicholas looked askance at Hobin. “Apples on the brain. But back to those noises. Are you certain someone is out there?”
“Or something. Deer perhaps? But as I heard voices, I’m more inclined to guess a someone.”
“That’s comforting news. Should we be worried?”
Hobin shrugged. “Depends on who they are. Maybe they’re other travelers just like us, though I’ve rarely encountered anyone wandering in these unpopulated regions during my years of travel.” He lowered his voice further. “Are you sure no one else knows of your mission?”
Nicholas Raven and the Wizards' Web (The Complete Epic Fantasy) Page 84