by M C Dwyer
Nepenthe glanced from Mae to Taela and back, and knew herself to be outclassed by both. Taela was a graceful, competent warrior of the Farlan, and Mae was an equally competent Aileron. Who was Nepenthe? Just a homeless waif with no memories of her past.
As she thought over the past year, however, she realized she was not as homeless as she thought. And Edmun—well, he’d asked for her earring, hadn’t he? Didn’t that mean he knew her secret—and forgave her for it? Somewhat ruefully, she remembered her anger when she’d discovered that Tad, her dear friend Tad, was actually King Edmun. That small deception, which only succeeded because she’d been too wrapped up in her own affairs to see the clues, was nothing compared to this. How had he discovered her? And did he feel—no, best not to wonder too much. There would be time for that if her quest was successful. She still had to face her brother, a thought so sobering she did not speak again the rest of the evening.
By the next morning, Aidan had reappeared, though he had not managed to meet her eyes, and they set out. Nepenthe gazed around at the destruction with sorrow that was tempered by the knowledge that at least no one had been hurt. It was nearly twenty minutes later that they passed the last of the destruction.
“Don’t take it too much to heart,” Jahan said, intercepting her gaze. “The mountain will recover quickly.”
“Probably faster than Aidan,” she murmured, glancing at his distant back. He was still riding ahead, but by unspoken agreement they were staying in sight of each other on this mostly uncharted side of the mountain.
Taela’s lips quirked slightly at this but neither Farlan commented.
They rode on, following the faint trail for as long as possible, then tracing the game trails that snaked down the mountain.
After another three days of travel, they’d emerged from the mountains into rolling foothills that were just as densely wooded. Topping a slight rise that was bare of trees, Nepenthe rose up in her stirrups to look west. As far as the eye could see, trees stretched in every direction. She frowned slightly.
“I don’t remember much, but I don’t remember quite this many trees.”
Jahan looked around and then pulled his horse to a stop so he could place his hand against a tree trunk. He closed his eyes for a moment in thought.
Curious, Nepenthe did the same. After a moment, she frowned. “There’s something almost alive. I mean, more than just the tree.”
Taela copied their pose, then exchanged a look with Jahan.
“Isn’t that—”
Jahan nodded.
“What?” Nepenthe demanded, looking back and forth between them.
“The Forest of Night is on the northern border of Breccia. It seems to have taken advantage the lack of inhabitants and spread a bit.” Jahan shrugged. “It’s not anything to worry about; the Forest of Night is not particularly dangerous, just strange.”
“Strange, how?” Mae’s voice chimed in. “I mean, obviously, besides growing a forest in the space of a few years.”
Nepenthe looked back in surprise. Both Mae and Barth had ridden up behind them, no doubt stopping because they’d seen the others pause.
Jahan said, “The Forest of Night is home to a particularly powerful spirit. During the day the forest is normal enough, but strange things have been known to happen at night. If this is now part of the Forest of Night, we will have to have a stricter night watch.”
Barth nodded and rumbled, “I’ll let Aidan know.”
Where was Aidan? Nepenthe looked around guiltily. She hadn’t even realized he’d gone on ahead when they stopped. She nudged Jasper into motion and headed after him.
After a few minutes’ jog, she spotted him ahead. She hesitated, then prodded Jasper to greater speed, pulling even with him. Slowing once more, she paced him silently for several minutes.
Neither spoke, but finally, she worked up the nerve to say, “Can we talk?”
There was a moment of silence during which she thought he wasn’t going to answer, but then the words seem to burst out of him. “What should we talk about? How you’ve been lying since the day we met?”
Nepenthe flinched, but Aidan immediately put up a hand.
“I’m sorry; that’s not fair. I’m just—so angry.” He stared straight ahead, but Nepenthe could see the flare of green in his eyes. She reached out a hand, calling up her water, but the walls in her mind trembled and she quickly let it go again. She shrugged helplessly.
“That’s my brother’s power. He’s trying to influence you. You have to fight it.”
“I know what I have to do,” he snarled. “Don’t act so high and mighty. You’ve been running away from him for five years; what do you know about anything?”
His words caused an almost physical pain, and Nepenthe closed her eyes. It was one thing to know that he was not entirely to blame for the words he spoke, but another to hear those words come from him with anything approaching equanimity.
“I’m sorry, Penthe,” Aidan sighed. Nepenthe opened her eyes and looked at him. That had sounded almost like the old Aidan.
“I’m sorry, too,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to lie. I barely knew I was lying most of the time.” Another wisp of fire power wafted past, and she saw Aidan’s face harden. She drew back on Jasper’s reins and let him pull ahead before he said anything else to hurt her.
Mae caught up with her shortly after and distracted her by carrying on a mostly one-sided conversation.
“You look older as a girl,” she said at one point. “I mean, you don’t look particularly old, but as a boy you looked maybe fourteen. As a girl, I’d believe you were only a few years younger than me.” At Nepenthe’s questioning look, she added, “I’m twenty-nine.” She glanced back at Barth and threw a wink. “A perfect age to marry.”
At this, Nepenthe stifled a giggle. “Barth has been sweet on you for a long time.”
“Really?” Mae perked up. “How long?”
“Since I came to Alain, at least. Likely even longer.”
Mae narrowed her eyes in thought. “Really,” she said, drawing the word out. She tapped her chin. “I should be able to use that somehow.”
They rode in silence for a few minutes, dropping back to ride single file as they threaded through a particularly dense patch of trees; then Mae rode up alongside Nepenthe again.
“What I’m really dying to know,” she said confidingly, “is whether King Edmun knows that you’re a girl.”
Nepenthe felt her whole body go ice cold and then flush hot.
“He does!” Mae crowed, staring at her. “He knows! Oh, I’m so glad. How did he find out?”
Shrugging helplessly, Nepenthe said, “I don’t know. I’m not even sure he knows for sure, but he gave me this.” She pushed back her curls, revealing the silver earring.
Mae’s jaw dropped, and Nepenthe looked at her questioningly.
“You’re not from Alain,” she explained, “so you wouldn’t know. There’s a tradition—it goes back for several kings, at least—of exchanging earrings at a betrothal. If you give him an earring in return it means you accept his proposal. It’s mostly only done by the nobility these days, but the king starts wearing an earring as soon as he’s of an age to marry.”
Nepenthe’s eyes had gone round with shock, and she covered the silver earring with a cold, trembling hand. An exchange, Edmun had said. Is that what he’d been asking? “I guess it’s a good thing I’m a princess,” she whispered, and Mae shouted with laughter that echoed through the trees and startled a couple of birds into sudden flight.
“Oh, Penthe, I’m so happy for you,” she said, and Nepenthe blushed. She turned serious then and asked, “Can you tell me about your brother?”
Rifling through her memories, Nepenthe found that she could talk about some of them. “Pyrdred is my older brother. He was my father’s firstborn, but his mother died.” Her brow wrinkled as she tried to remember. “I don’t know if I knew anything about her. The king married my mother some years later, and they had me.�
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“So you’re not illegitimate? Sorry if that offends you; I’m just curious.”
Nepenthe shook her head. “No, I’m legitimate. Edmun said that to cover for me.”
Mae’s brow furrowed in concentration. “King Theodric. Prince Pyrdred. Princess—Princess Lynn? No—Luce, that was it. Princess Luce.”
A sudden wave of vertigo swept over Nepenthe, shivering through her body and making the wall shudder. She gasped as a memory broke through.
An older man, grey running liberally through his hair and beard, leaned forward to place a simple golden circlet on her brow.
“Princess Luce, congratulations on your thirteenth birthday. I hereby crown you a Princess of Breccia. Bear it well.”
“Are you all right?” Mae said, one hand under Nepenthe’s elbow. Jasper had stopped, sensing a problem, and Mae helped her straighten.
“Just an errant memory,” she gasped. “I’m fine.”
Mae eyed her disbelievingly. “Uh huh. Regardless, I obviously need to change the subject.”
They talked then of innocuous things until the setting sun brought them to a halt to set up camp.
They traveled through the woods for several days, always heading west, until one day the trees thinned and deposited them in a ghost town.
The houses were all intact; some had been opened to the weather by wind or time, but others simply stood silent, boarded up and abandoned. The shops were mostly empty, and what few things remained were scattered in the dust as though they’d been gone through in a hurry. The six travelers rode through the town warily, but there was nothing left to bother them.
“This place is unsettling,” Barth said, voicing the opinion of all.
As for Nepenthe, she wondered if she had known what this town was, or any of its citizens.
They spent the night in an inn, not even bothering to set a watch, as they were able to lock the windows and doors. It was eerily quiet; no more quiet, perhaps, than a night in the forest, but the surroundings felt like they should have noise. Nepenthe had her usual nightmare, chased through a maze of corridors by laughter and the flapping of black wings, but then the dream suddenly froze. The laughter was silenced and the wings stilled, and Nepenthe looked around her in wonder. She was back in the forest, though the trees here were giants that would have taken all six of the travelers to span. She trod the spongy ground silently, looking up in wonder into the massive boughs. It was twilight here under the canopy, and the light was fading quickly.
She came to a halt next to one particularly enormous trunk and leaned against it. The bark prickled against her back, but the sensation was not unpleasant. She stayed there until the light was gone and the forest turned shades of blue and purple. And then she sensed she wasn’t alone.
Nepenthe peered into the inky dark but saw nothing but a couple of stars. Then her perspective shifted and she realized they were eyes—two glittering eyes in the middle of the purple-black of the forest.
Greetings, cousin, a voice whispered in her mind.
“Who are you?” Nepenthe said in wonder, feeling no fear. She wondered distantly if she would be afraid if this weren’t a dream.
I am Nox. I wish to speak to you. The eyes vanished, and the presence did as well. Nepenthe woke, blinking in confusion. If he’d wished to speak to her, why hadn’t he simply spoken? Or was she supposed to find him?
She rolled over on the bed and puzzled over it until she fell asleep once more.
Chapter 34
The Forest of Night, she thought upon waking the next morning. If the creature Nox were to be found anywhere, surely it would be there. But was the new growth of the forest sufficient? Wouldn’t he have spoken sooner if that were the case?
She brushed Jasper down before saddling him, debating. If they needed to reach the Forest proper, then they needed to turn north. That would add some extra time to their journey, but since Nepenthe still had no idea how she was going to deal with Pyrdred, she had no problem with a delay. Giving Jasper a pat on the nose, she headed over to where Aidan was saddling Onyx and helped pass him the girth. He grunted in response.
Undaunted, Nepenthe said, “We need to go north.”
“And why is that?”
Nepenthe bit her lip. “I had a dream.”
Aidan gave her an inscrutable look then simply said, “Fine.”
Nonplussed, Nepenthe blinked at him.
He returned her gaze with an equally indecipherable one, then mounted up and turned Onyx toward the inn yard gate.
She sighed and returned to Jasper. Mae tossed her the reins with a sympathetic smile, and they both mounted up as well.
They emerged from town into an area that was clear of trees. Nepenthe looked out across the rolling green hills and decided they felt right somehow. Turning to the north, she saw the distant line of the forest pick up again, but at least for a while they’d be able to ride in the open.
Aidan turned Onyx north, and the rest followed. Mae jogged her horse up even with Nepenthe.
“Did I miss something?”
Nepenthe looked ahead at Aidan and sighed. Apparently he wasn’t speaking to anyone at the moment. “I had a dream last night about the Forest of Night. We need to head north so I can talk to someone.”
“Does this person have a name?” Jahan said, riding up on her other side.
“Nox. He called me ‘Cousin.’” Nepenthe described what she’d seen in her dream, and Mae shuddered.
“That sounds scary,” she said.
“That sounds like a very high order spirit,” Jahan said. “The Forest of Night is his. He is nearly as powerful as Haeron.”
“Haeron?” Mae asked, looking at him in surprise. “As in, ‘the Sea of’?” At Jahan’s answering nod, she whistled. “Penthe, you’ve got friends in high places.”
Nepenthe bit her lip and was silent. At the name Haeron, she’d gone to her shuttered window and managed to snag a memory that suggested he was her grandfather. Casting about for another topic of conversation, she said, “Jahan, how is it you know so much about the spirits?”
Jahan smiled. “The Farlan have a long history of dealing with the spirit world. Supposedly, one of our ancestors was a spirit—much like Nox—who originated from the Farlan Plains. He married one of the women of our clan, and his influence spread throughout. He gave us the ability to sense the spirit world, and we have made it our task to learn to deal with them.” He nodded ahead at Aidan. “Frequently the interactions between humans and spirits are less than ideal, for they don’t have the same priorities as we do.”
Nepenthe cast her mind over her memories of her mother and found that she agreed. “Are spirits immortal?”
Taela spoke up, surprising Nepenthe. She usually allowed Jahan to do most of the talking. “They don’t age like we do, but they don’t live forever. They can be destroyed, though not by the same things that would harm a human.”
Frowning, Nepenthe thought back to what Edmun’s Spirit Council had said. “Someone said that spirits don’t have souls. Is that true?”
Smiling slightly, Taela said, “How would we know? But I think it’s likely that they have something similar. When you first came to us you were wandering from your body. From what your king said, it’s happened a couple of times since. Where do you go when that happens?”
Nepenthe bit her lip. Had that been how Edmun discovered her secret? If she were fortunate enough to ever see him again, she would ask. “It’s hard to describe. It was the normal world, but it wasn’t quite the same.”
“Were there other spirits there?”
She remembered the sylphs that had fluttered about her, and smiled. “Yes.”
Taela shrugged. “Then is it not possible that that is the natural realm of all spirits? We humans are tied to our bodies, but what happens when we die? Perhaps we simply join the spirit realm. Spirits don’t have the same physical body we do, so they aren’t necessarily tied to the world in the same way we are, either. They can come and go between the spirit
realm and this one.”
Jahan smiled at this long speech. “It’s a theory, anyway.”
Nepenthe mulled this over for the next week as they traveled north. They were able to skirt the forest, but it started pushing them west, and at some point they had to reenter the woods to continue northward.
Aidan continued to avoid her, but he’d started watching her. Nepenthe would be building the fire or gathering sticks for a fire, and then look up to catch his gaze. The first few times it happened, he averted his eyes quickly; but then he simply continued to stare until she turned back to her task, unnerved.
The forest grew thicker and the trees taller, and Nepenthe suspected they’d reached the original Forest of Night. She began watching the surroundings more closely, looking for any sign of the creature Nox.
At night they began setting watches of two people. Nepenthe was supposed to have second watch with Taela, but she woke up early. She wasn’t sure what had woken her; it wasn’t the usual nightmare, but it wasn’t anything else she could name, either. She got up and pulled her boots on, then wandered a little ways from camp.
“It’s not your watch yet,” a low voice said, making her jump.
“Aidan,” she said, pressing a hand to her pounding heart. She peered into the shadows under the trees and managed to spot the slightly darker shadow that was the Aileron. He stood up.
“You should go back to bed. You’ve got another hour, at least.”
She shrugged, a motion that was probably lost in the dark. Somewhere above the foliage a full moon was shining, allowing intermittent flickers of pale light to reach the ground. One fell now on Aidan’s face, and Nepenthe froze. He was staring at her again, but this time his eyes were glinting green in the darkness.
“Aidan? What’s wrong?” she said, her voice a whisper.
“Why, Penthe?”
She stared at him, confused. “Why? What do you mean?” He took another step forward, and she had to stop herself from retreating. This was Aidan. He wouldn’t hurt her.
“Why Edmun? I’m the one who found you; I saved your life and brought you to Alain. Why did you abandon me for Edmun?” His voice was plaintive, but there was an undercurrent of anger in it.