by Kim Wedlock
"No one in their right mind would travel through here," Anthis replied instead. Petra would have been annoyed by his interruption had she thought there was any real chance that Garon would have answered himself. "Even I haven't."
"One wonders if Garon is in any 'right mind'."
"No one knows for certain what's out here," the young man continued, breezing past Rathen's mumbled remark, "there are only rumours and snatched sightings, but no one's willing to chance coming in to find out. This whole region is wrapped in mystery."
Petra squinted at him. "You're enjoying this."
"Well you have to admit that there's an element of excitement," he frowned, "but I can't say that having my eyes glued to the space between every tree and my ears cocked at every midge's wing beat is a prerequisite for a good time."
"If nothing is known, what are you afraid of?" Rathen asked from ahead.
"The possibility. And those screams last night weren't exactly dissuasive."
No one was willing to disagree.
Rathen glanced down at Aria, expecting her to ask about the rumours or the screaming, but though the questions did indeed seem to be forming on the tip of her tongue, they remained behind her teeth. It seemed their unease was finally beginning to touch her. He gave her hand a small, reassuring squeeze, and she readily tightened her grip.
Anthis gazed up to the forest canopy and sighed to himself. "What time do you suppose it is?"
Rathen looked at the thick shadows. "Almost midday."
"We've been walking for at least seven hours," he groaned, his face twisting in discomfort as a stitch began to pull at his already aching side. "Can we not stop for a moment?"
Garon shook his head. "We've not moved far enough."
He sighed in frustration, but chose to save his energy for walking rather than arguing.
Petra frowned at him sadly and dropped back a few paces to walk alongside, offering a walking support if he needed it. He smiled gratefully, though it didn't reach his eyes, and it vanished completely as he lost his footing in the distraction. Petra caught him before he could drop too far.
She shook her head. "Garon, we need to stop. Anthis hasn't fully recovered yet."
"I'm fin--oooww!"
She shot him an unconvinced look while Rathen stepped up beside the inquisitor. "We're not going to cover much ground in an hour or two," he told him quietly, "not against the reach of this place. We should stop. We all need it."
Garon looked past him doubtfully, along their forward route, and his lips parted to argue. But he said nothing. He sighed in defeat instead. "Not on the path," he said finally for the others to hear. "Who knows what else uses it..." Looking about, he shortly spotted a fragment of light filtering through the trees to the left. "This way - carefully."
They followed eagerly as Anthis breathed a private sigh of relief, stepping in amongst the forest and realising only once they'd left it just how bare and worn in the path truly was. Mere feet away, thick, gnarled roots lay in wait to trip prying wanderers, low branches snatched at clothing, and ditches concealed within the overgrown grass threatened to twist ankles. Only those versed in the Wildlands could traverse it so freely, and not one of the five ranked among them.
But as suddenly as they'd found it, the density fell away, opening the way to a compact and vibrant grove secreted amongst the tangle, whose sheer but simple beauty struck them to a halt. But magic, for once, was not responsible. Perhaps it was merely the rays of the sun that made the grass appear so emerald and the water in the lily pond so richly azure - everything they'd laid eyes upon over the past day and a half had been shrouded in shadow, after all - but it was astounding to behold nevertheless, and the sight settled the erratic beating of their hearts just enough to take a single, calming breath.
Petra helped Anthis over to a near-level rock and took a moment to rest against it herself, while Aria rushed to the water's edge and peered down to its shallow bed, pulling Rathen along with her while Garon, as usual, surveyed the area.
Tiny green fish the size of Aria's own fingernails flicked about beneath the still waters, creating the slightest ripples along the surface as they turned, their scales glistening as they caught the light. Aria gasped softly as she marvelled at them, and settled down on her belly to watch.
Petra smiled at the girl's simple fascination. "Shouldn't we fill the waterskins while we're here?"
"Not from a standing body of water like this."
"It's not a canal..."
"It's not stagnant water I'm concerned about." Rathen looked around from his place close at Aria's side, distrust tainting his dark eyes. The grove, as tiny as it was, was wonderful. Too wonderful. It was wild, it was true, but there seemed to be intention in its appearance - as if something cared for it, nurtured its growth.
His thoughtful gaze fell upon a rock face at the far end of the clearing, and he noticed a shadow to it. A hole.
"Move away from the edge, little one," he said softly, rising with a frown to approach it, pushing his long, black hair back from his face, sticky in the mild but persistent humidity. He didn't stop too close, in part to avoid drawing the others' attention, and peered in from an angle instead. It was narrower than it had seemed from the pond, and reached higher into the rock. The gap was enough that he could have stepped in with Aria upon his shoulders, but certainly not beside her.
He heard footsteps, light and certain.
"Is it ditchlings?" Garon asked quietly, stopping a few paces away with similar concern of drawing interest from the less careful members of the group.
"If it was, they've gone," Rathen replied. "We wouldn't get so close to one of their warrens unmolested." He looked at the worn ground that lead into the cave, noting the leaves and mud that had been trekked inside, then the edges of the stone itself and the lack of any decorative markings that ditchlings would have left. It was only when he raised his eyes higher that he spotted a single detail of note: long, thick vines descended from above and reached into the gap as if holding it open, draped in broad leaves with pure white veins, among which peeked funnelled blue flowers.
Rathen's pale face twisted nervously as he turned his gaze back to the bright green grass, the impact of which was still stunning. It should have worn off by now. He noticed Aria still close beside the water's edge. "Aria, back, I said!"
She scrambled obediently several paces away.
"What do you think?" Garon asked gravely, observing the scene. "Spriggan?"
"Or a nokken. But we'd do well not to chance upon either." He turned towards the others and raised his voice, ensuring as he did so that his alarm was well-hidden. "It's about time we moved on."
"We've been here for less than five minutes," Petra protested as Anthis pushed himself up from beside her with a grumble, knowing that if he didn't do so then, he likely wouldn't at all.
"And we have a very long way to go. The fewer nights we have to spend in here, the better for all of us." He stepped over to Aria and took her little hand, smiling apologetically against her disappointed frown, then started back towards the path at Garon's lead, the others reluctantly in tow.
They trudged on through the afternoon and made only one more brief stop for Anthis's sake, but despite the weariness that crept over them as the early night began to fall, the encroaching darkness only spurred them to keep moving. They covered much ground before their fatigue became too much, already worsened by the previous long night, and stopped to camp amongst the trees just far enough from the path to avoid being spotted by anything that may use it.
Anthis eased himself down against a tree trunk with a long sigh of relief, his concern for the forest's denizens forgotten as he forced his tense muscles to unlock. "Sedentary at last."
"How can you possibly relax in a place like this?" Petra asked him quietly as she continued to watch the forest around them.
"Because," he replied, closing his eyes and taking a deep and careful breath, "I have little choice but to."
Rathen thrust
the torch into the ground, choosing not to risk a bright campfire, then began rummaging through the bags. There was plenty of food - bread, cheese, some preserved meat - and it would have been enough to last them until Bowden, with some supplementary foraging along the way. But no one had expected to pass through the Wildlands. Starving was preferable to catching food within these forests, as at least walking on an empty stomach was less likely to invoke the wrath of whatever might guard the creatures one would hunt for supper.
Rathen grunted. They could ration it all easily enough - he just hoped it wouldn't lead to clumsy footing or poor decisions, invoking the wrath of whatever might guard the creatures they weren't hunting for supper.
He passed out fractions of the food, and Aria looked down at the torn bread and sliver of meat in her hands with disappointment. "I know, but it'll be enough, little one."
"I suppose we've no choice but to tighten our belts for a while," Petra sighed as she took her share and gave it an equally grim look, but her complaints were silenced as her stomach rumbled and she made an eager start upon the bread.
They finished eating far too quickly and sat restlessly in their efforts to relax, but while it was exhaustion that made it easy for Anthis to settle, Aria again found no trouble absorbing herself in her work, faithfully pulling out her sketchbook and charcoal. She hadn't touched her knife for some time - no one was distraught by that fact - but whenever any tried to take an interest in her change of activity for their own distraction, she became guarded and secretive.
While Rathen checked over what remained of his wound, Anthis watched her work. Her face was pressed close to the pages though she couldn't possibly see by the minimal torchlight, and her tongue poked out a few times in her concentration. He smiled as it happened a third time. "Has she gotten anywhere with her project?" He asked Rathen quietly. Aria hadn't told anyone what she was doing; Anthis only knew the details because he'd guessed correctly while speaking with the mage.
Rathen shook his head. "I have no idea. She won't even let me see it. But she's not torn anything out for two days, so that has to be a good sign..."
"Why is she doing it?"
"Because she wants to help."
Anthis nodded slowly, and turned his eyes back to him as he finished applying a clean bandage. "And what about you? Have you gotten anywhere?"
Rathen looked up at him. "Have you?"
"Probably not until Bowden," he conceded.
"If we even find anything useful there." Rathen sighed and dropped the young man's shirt back over the bandage, then glanced behind him across the camp. Petra caught his eye, as she did from time to time, but while her eyes were turned down towards her blade, her focus was certainly fixed upon Garon.
"She's somewhat attached to him," Anthis said very quietly, surely noticing the same thing. "Reckon she'll actually leave at Bowden?"
"She has little reason to stay, so I don't see why not," Rathen replied just as carefully, though there was a doubtful frown upon his face as he said it. Then he turned knowing eyes back onto him. "You want her to stay, though."
"Sorry?!"
There was the slightest smile upon the mage's lips, though it was neither unfriendly nor mocking. In fact, it seemed sympathetic. "I've seen how you look at her. Let me save you the time: she isn't interested."
Anthis seemed to bristle for a moment. "In me?"
"In anyone. She has other priorities."
"Which are?"
"I have no idea, but they're there, without a doubt. She can do nothing to help us, and she knows it. She might hesitate when the time comes, perhaps, but she won't stay. They'll take precedence, whatever they are."
A frown creased his young face as he puffed his reluctant understanding. "Yeah, you're probably right," he grumbled. "I get the sense that there's a big chunk of her we're not getting..."
"Everyone is entitled to secrets."
"Aren't they just?"
Rathen gave his speculative tone a flat look, but Anthis only smiled. "Sorry."
Silence smothered the camp as a desperate wail rose in the distance. It was quiet and far off, but there was already such an edge to the atmosphere that none of them could possibly miss it.
"It's the same as last night," Petra dared to whisper.
"At least it's further aw--"
Another shriek cut Anthis off, closer than the first.
The five fell perfectly still; only their eyes shifted in fevered search. Rathen didn't rise from the balls of his feet, Aria didn't stroke her charcoal across the paper, and Petra didn't pull her fingers free from combing through her hair. Every one of them favoured their hearing, straining their ears for any other sound. But the forest was perfectly silent. There was nothing to be heard. Not even the sombre song of a nightlark.
The shriek came again.
"It's getting closer," Petra breathed in a panic.
"But what is getting closer?"
Rathen was the first to move, standing and staring hard through the darkness, and as the air shattered from another, still nearer scream, the others hastily followed. Ice formed in their blood at the cold and vengeful howl, one eerily without echo. Anthis hauled himself to his feet with no thought to the sting in his side, and the group tightened up together, Petra and Garon with swords in hand while Rathen flexed his fingers, Aria clinging to his clothes.
Rustling snatched their attention, quick movements beyond the limited range of the torch flame, and they stared off to their left, each picking apart the blackness with bated breath.
The rustling came again, this time from their right, but as they spun towards it, its source changed again.
They'd have gasped in fright as another cry pealed from right on top of them, had that very fright not choked their throats instead.
"Oh sweet Vastal," Petra managed over the beat of her heart in her throat, gripping her sword tightly as they huddled up even closer. Her arms tightened in preparation to strike at whatever might descend upon them, while Garon grounded his feet and Rathen's fingers twitched, a number of spells for a number of circumstances already firmly in mind.
The scattered rustles stopped.
Silence stifled them.
Their heads spun frantically left and right, looking for any eyes that might catch the torchlight, any toothy grins that might glow in menace, any tree-like forms or creeping vines that had not been there before.
Not one of them dared a breath.
The air was torn by another wail, a little further out than the last.
Had another shadow joined?
Another shriek, more distant.
Rathen's shoulders loosened and he lowered his hands a fraction, but still he strained his ears in search, waiting for another, either right upon them or further out again. But there was nothing.
It took a long minute before they dared to loosen their formation, reluctantly following Rathen's lead as he tentatively dropped his hands to his sides, straightened himself and released his long-held breath.
"Whatever that was," Anthis whispered, desperate to break the silence with familiar sounds despite feeling far too tense to condone making any noise, "it knew we were here."
"It probably knew the moment we stepped into the forest"
"We should not have come in here," Petra said with a substantial note of panic rattling in her voice. "We should have skirted around. What's two more weeks compared to our lives?"
"Rathen," Anthis whispered, his own tone uncharacteristically heavy, "do you know what it was?"
The mage sighed regretfully. "I don't."
Garon stepped away from them and approached the edge of the light. "Get some rest," he said firmly, sitting down in the grass and facing out into the darkness. "I'll take watch. The going will be easier tomorrow."
Aria seemed willing to trust him as she headed towards her blankets, eager perhaps to see the morning, and though Anthis and Petra cast one another doubtful looks, they followed her lead.
"Wake me if you start dozing off," Ra
then said, pausing beside him. "Assuming either of us manage to get any sleep."
The inquisitor nodded as he stepped away, then settled himself for a long night, his sword unsheathed and laid ready upon the ground beside him. He heard more gentle footsteps approach him a moment later, but didn't turn his head.
"Good night," Petra said softly. She didn't pause for a response, and so Garon said nothing.
Though he did glance around at her as the torch was extinguished.
Plunged into blackness, he cleared his mind and looked back out to the forest while the rest of the group settled down to try to sleep. His eyes adjusted quickly, and with practised ease he filtered out the whispered exchange between Rathen and the child as he tucked her in, turning his focus outwards and away from the camp.
He couldn't sense anyone following them anymore, but that persistent feeling that had shadowed him since Mokhan had been replaced with more immediate concerns. He had a good idea, as Rathen did, of what called this forest home, concealed in its boughs, beneath the leaf litter, within its shadows - but just which of them were the most likely threat, he couldn't tell. After all, while he knew which rumours of the Wildlands were credible, they were still little more than that. Those few who were brave or stupid enough to study the place never dared to stay long enough for solid findings, and those who presumably were were never seen nor heard from again.
It had been a risk to lead them into the Wildlands, of that he had been fully aware, but who knew just how much time they had to find the artefact?
'Who knows if we'll even make it through to the other side of this accursed place?'
He suppressed the doubtful voice easily enough. Such thoughts would serve no purpose now they were there. And he had faith in his own abilities, as well as Rathen's. And though Petra may not have been part of the plan, he was confident that she could hold her own, too. It was a part of who she was, that was clear for anyone to see - alongside her insatiable curiosity. In that detail, she was worse than Anthis.
The slightest movement in the nearby leaves drew his keen attention, and his hand twitched towards the black hilt of his blade.