Loren set a solid pace, but nothing too drastic. Though they thought themselves safe, she had not entirely discounted the chance that they were still being followed. They might need their horses’ strength for a sudden burst of speed. But they saw no sign of pursuit, and at midday she felt confident enough to let them stop for a meal.
It felt strange, sliding down from atop Midnight. They’d had Jordel to set their pace for so long. He had pushed them hard or let them wander, according to urgency. Now they were without his guidance, and Xain, though older, was in no condition to lead. Loren realized—almost startled—that the others now looked to her for guidance.
“So, do you know any songs?” Gem looked toward Chet.
“Gem,” said Loren in a warning tone.
“What? Albern knew songs, and was happy to sing them. He had a fine voice, too.” His eyes grew solemn, and he looked down at his nails.
“I heard him sing,” said Chet. “But I do not have his gift. There were only a few in our village who knew many songs and had the voices to carry them. They guarded the secret with envy. Mayhap they enjoyed the attention when our village would dance.”
Loren laughed out loud, and the others looked at her startled. “I am sorry. But do you remember when Miss Aisley grew drunk on wine and forgot the words to her song?”
Chet’s crooked teeth flashed with a smile. “And she had set her cap for Rickard, but she was so befuddled she seized Bracken instead, and gave him a kiss deep enough that the old man nearly fainted.”
Loren doubled over. By now, the children had caught their humor and chuckled along. She even saw the wizard smirk. “Rickard would not speak to her for months, and Bracken kept hanging about her house day after day, staying a full week longer than normal.”
Their deep belly laughs rang in the forest and echoed through the trees. Loren had almost forgotten what it was to laugh, certainly at a memory from home. Such precious few were pleasant.
Chet fixed her with a look, and it was as though he could read her thoughts. “You see? Not all memories of home are dark. I am happy we will visit again. Perhaps seeing our village again, without those who made it so terrible, will change your mind.”
Loren thought she heard the words he did not say: and change your mind about our journey, and where we shall turn our steps.
She frowned; Loren did not wish to keep arguing the point, least of all in front of the others.
“I wish I could see Bracken again,” she said, as a way of changing the subject. “When last he came, I was still a little girl. I wonder what he would think of me now, chasing the tales of Mennet he once spun in my head.”
“Mennet!” cried Gem. “I heard many stories of him. He was my favorite. The other boys in Cabrus always said I looked just like him.”
“Mennet? Never!” said Loren, annoyed. “He took from evil kings who taxed their subjects too highly, kinslayers and murderers all. Mennet made right what others had set wrong.”
Annis looked at Gem, disgruntled, but the boy only shrugged. She looked to Xain, but the wizard shook his head. “I care little for children’s tales of a thief who likely never lived. Everyone has heard of Mennet, but the wise know he is nothing but legend.”
Loren glared daggers at Xain. Chet said, “Still, such tales have their worth. Only I never loved them as Loren did. I preferred the stories of kings and warriors, brave knights and cunning constables who felled those who broke the King’s law.”
“Mayhap one day you will hunt me, then,” said Loren with a smile. “For I am no friend to constables.”
“Why do you think I left the village in the first place?” Chet feigned an evil smile and turned his hands into claws.
Loren shoved his shoulder so hard that he collapsed to the grass.
They slept that night in far better spirits than the previous day, and Loren insisted on taking first watch so the wizard could sleep. She did not know if he ever found slumber and more than once saw his eyes glittering in the fire’s light. But she woke Chet just as the moons set, then fell into a deep slumber that lasted until after dawn’s earliest light.
The mood plummeted the very next day. They’d not been long on the road when the land rose sharply across their path, forming a range of hills just shy of proper mountains. But there was a clear path up, so they found its base and then Loren and Chet led them in the ascent.
They were halfway up the rise when Loren chanced to look out at the land they had crossed. And there, some leagues away, she caught a flash of movement that did not resemble a bird or a bear. She called them to a halt and stood stock still, looking.
“What is it?” Gem barked from his saddle.
Loren hushed him with a sharp wave and kept staring.
Chet came to her side and spoke softly. “Did you see someone?”
“Mayhap,” she mumbled. “Somewhat south of our course, and—there!”
She saw it again: several shapes moving under the trees. Even from this distance, she recognized riders on horseback.
“I see them,” said Chet. “They are many. Mayhap a dozen.”
“A dozen what?” growled Xain.
“Riders,” said Loren. “Some leagues behind us but traveling in the same direction.”
All were silent. Then, halfheartedly, Annis said, “We do not know they are Shades. They could be simple travelers, like us. Surely, some people must travel through the Birchwood because they do not like the roads or because it is more pleasant than the lands beyond.”
“We are hardly simple travelers,” said Loren. “But mayhap you are right. We know not that we are pursued.”
Xain said, “After the luck we have seen upon our road, do any of you truly doubt it?”
No one answered, but they held the path. And now, their steps came quicker.
ten
Soon enough, they crested the rise and stopped to look west, peering through treetops to the forest below. But they saw no sign of their pursuers, if indeed they were pursued. They rode quickly down the other side of the ridge, and with many a backward glance toward the top.
The Birchwood rose about them as they neared the bottom. No one spoke nor sang as they rode. When Loren’s gaze met one of the others, she saw a hunted look that surely matched her own.
Often they looked behind them, and after two hours of riding Chet reined his horse to a halt. Loren turned to follow his gaze. At the top of the rise, they saw figures on horseback silhouetted against the sky. She could catch no colors in their clothing, but they might be Shades who meant to move with secrecy. Xain looked at her solemnly, and she could tell he must be thinking the same thing.
“They are making better time than we are,” said Chet. “We should ride harder.”
They spurred their horses to a trot that kept the pace through their day. Deep in the forest’s heart, it was impossible to see far in any direction, particularly behind, when turning from the path could lead the horse into a root or a tree. Loren thought she felt eyes behind them, watching their progress, though she knew that had to be her imagination.
As the sun neared the ridge far behind them, Loren searched for a stream. Fortunately, they were plenty in the Birchwood, and she soon found one to suit her purpose—shallow enough for the horses to walk in yet deep enough that hoofprints on the bed could not be seen from above. Chet saw her aim immediately and led them north in the middle of the stream, water foaming white around their mounts’ hocks.
“Ugh!” said Gem as a splash of water soaked his ill-shod feet. “This water is cold.”
“Mayhap, but it will keep us safe,” said Loren. “They cannot track us in the water.”
“How long must we ride it?” said Gem. “I do not wish to sleep in a soaking bedroll nor have wet clothes clinging to my skin.”
“And I do not wish to sleep with Shades lurking in the forest about us,” said Annis. “We shall ride as long as Loren and Chet tell us to.”
Loren looked at her gratefully, and Annis smiled. The girl was clearly
frightened, but her hands were steady on the reins, and her mouth was set in a grim, determined line. Loren had not forgotten the girl’s face in the Greatrocks when she told her mother to leave them forever. A spoiled merchant’s daughter she might be, but there was fire inside her.
Soon, the soft loam of forest floor turned to hard and rocky dirt. Light was fading fast from the sky. “A cave,” said Loren. “For the horses.”
Chet nodded and led them out of the water. They looked around, searching for a place to hide their mounts. They found a cleft in the earth, wide and tall enough to ride inside, and deep. They hobbled the horses, left them with feed, and dragged branches to block them in.
“Now back to the river,” said Loren. “Quickly, all of you. Chet and I will follow.”
“Why are you not walking with us?” said Gem.
“Enough questions, boy.” Xain gripped Gem’s shoulder and pulled him along. “Do as she says.”
Chet fetched the hatchet from his saddle and cut two wide branches from nearby trees. Limbs in hand, he and Loren retraced their steps to the river. Wherever the sparse grass had been disturbed, they used the branches to brush it back straight. With their boots, they smoothed any soft spots in the forest floor where hooves had left a mark, until they found themselves back at the river, all marks of their trail removed.
“Now cross it, and strike out in the other direction,” said Loren. “Hurry! It will be dark soon.”
“It is dark enough for me now.” But Gem had suffered enough rebukes for one day, it seemed, and he followed Xain without further comment.
They plunged into the forest, Loren letting Chet lead the way while she took the rear. He knew her mind without having to hear it and led them to a rise in the earth that could be seen not far away. They came to its base, and Loren took them up the rise while Chet remained at the bottom to build a fire.
“Why are we climbing if we mean to camp at the bottom?” asked Annis.
“We do not mean to camp at the bottom,” said Loren. “We mean only to build a camp there.”
“We have left a trail to it,” Xain said, his eyes flickered with understanding. “If we are being followed, they will come to the fire. But from atop the rise, we can see them without being seen ourselves.”
“Very clever,” said Gem. “I only wish it did not mean we must sleep without a fire.”
“If we are right in our suspicions, it will be many days yet before we can light a nighttime fire,” said Loren. “Now quickly, let us find trees where we may sleep.”
“Trees?” said Gem. “What are we, owls?”
“Leave off, Gem,” said Annis.
Chet soon had a small campfire blazing, and abandoned it to crest the rise and join them. Together, he and Loren found trees with wide branches hidden from the ground, and in them built small platforms from branches cut with the hatchet. Soon, they had places for the children and Xain to lay their heads. For themselves, they found two thick branches side by side, Loren to the left and Chet to her right. They had spent many nights in trees and needed no more support for themselves.
Together they lay, arms dangling a few feet apart, peering out into the darkness toward the fire. Though a fair distance away, their abandoned camp glowed like the sun in the pitch-black night. All was silent save for the sounds of Gem and Xain rustling about, uncomfortable in their makeshift beds.
“Do you still think this course is wise?” Chet whispered. “If they have caught up to us so early, what makes you think we can evade them until we reach our village, or the Great Bay beyond?”
“If they have tracked us this far, why do you think we should evade them if we were to change our course now?”
“Perhaps,” Chet sighed. “But then again, if they see we have turned aside, they may guess that we no longer mean to warn the Mystics, and mayhap leave us be.”
Loren thought of Trisken’s cruel smile—the same brutality she had seen darkening Rogan’s eyes in Northwood. “You do not know them. They are not the sort to leave matters be, nor show mercy.”
“Mayhap this is all needless worry, and the riders behind us are not even following our course. But if you are right, and we are pursued, then what do you mean to do?”
“Find some way to evade them, I suppose. I have not had time to think that far ahead.”
“Well, mayhap it will be needless . . ." Chet thrust a finger ahead and whispered, “Look.”
Loren tensed, expecting to see figures approaching the fire. But Chet was pointing instead at the moons, which had crested the horizon to spill silver light across the trees. Below them, thousands of fingers swayed in the night’s gentle breezes. Far away, they heard the songs of whippoorwills and owls, prey and predator in a nighttime chorus. Loren vented a long breath and for a moment felt the day’s tension leave her. She looked back to the moons. Merida, the smaller, was especially bright, while Enalyn was shy behind her sister.
“Merida leads the way tonight, her lantern searching the Birchwood for her mother and father,” Chet said quietly, still staring at the moons.
“Enalyn follows cautiously, urging her sister back home to await their return.”
“Always I have wondered if I would live to see it, the day when the sisters finally find their way to those who wait. I wonder what it would look like, a sky with no moons.”
“It would be a sadder thing, I think.”
“I think you are right.” Chet sighed.
They were quiet after that. Even Gem had stopped rustling above them, though Loren still thought she heard the occasional start from Xain. Finally, Chet spoke again. “This part of the journey is not so bad.”
“You are right. It is the times before, and after, that make up for it.”
He laughed, but then grew dour and in a whisper said, “I . . . I cannot stop seeing the streets of Northwood.”
Chet was easier to spy in the moonlight, and Loren saw a faraway look in his eyes, a look she knew well. “It may be some time until you can.”
“Was it the same for you?”
“That I do not know, for I cannot see inside your mind. But I can tell you that when I first saw people kill each other, the faces of the dead haunted my dreams for days.”
“What made it stop?”
Loren thought of the long road since. “Many things worse.”
Chet did not look comforted and turned his face to the moons. Seized by impulse, Loren took his hand in hers. Almost at once, she felt unsure and began to draw back. But his fingers tightened in comfort, so she let her hand still. He did not look at her, nor she at him. Together, they watched the moons.
Then a shadow passed in front of the fire below.
They pushed forward to peer into the night. There—Loren saw it again. A dark figure crossed the fire’s light, then another. She could see them lit by the orange glow. Eight figures she counted, glimpsing their horses in the trees. She saw at least one grey cloak, but none of the Shades’ blue-and-grey.
Loren’s heart sank, for she knew the truth: whoever the figures were, they were predators who had at last found signs of their prey.
They stomped out the fire, cast dirt upon it, and disappeared into the darkness beneath the trees.
Loren’s breath left in a whoosh.
“You left no trail that might lead them up this rise?”
“None,” said Chet. “With any luck, they shall think we doubled back and made for the river. They will follow it farther north, and by the time they realize their mistake, we shall be leagues away.”
“With any luck,” said Loren. “But my travels have not given me reason to rely overmuch on fortune.”
“Let us wait an hour. Then we will wake the others. If we wish to make use of our lead, we cannot spend the night here.”
“You are right. Close your eyes now—I shall wake you when the moons change places.”
Chet curled closer to the tree’s trunk, propped between his branch and the one beside it. Soon, his eyes were shut in slumber, lips slight
ly parted and deep breaths wheezing between them.
Loren turned her eyes outward, rubbed a thumb across her right palm, and did not stop until she woke them all an hour later.
eleven
The children slowly opened their eyes with many grumbles, but when Loren went to rouse Xain, she found the wizard awake and staring at her in the moonslight.
Loren suppressed a shiver. “They followed us to our camp. We left a false trail, and they moved on. Now we mean to ride, while darkness still hides us.”
He nodded and stood. Together, the party climbed down from the tree to land softly upon the grass. Loren and Chet led them off into the trees, with Xain taking the rear. Her gaze wandered before them, searching for any sign of movement. Most likely Chet was right, and the Shades would follow their trail to the river. But she was keenly aware that they could be stepping right into a trap.
But they saw nothing on their ride to the river, nor after reaching the other side. Loren led them to the cave with their horses. She heard Midnight’s gentle nicker, and sighed relief. They fetched their mounts, gained their saddles, and made for the river again. Once they had crossed, Loren spurred them, quickly as she dared in the dim light.
All night they rode, until the sky grew grey and finally broke with dawn’s light. They rode longer until they found a stream where they might water the horses. Finally, Loren called them to a halt.
“Well?” said Chet. “We have seen no sign of them and have gained many leagues. Do you think they will leave off?”
“I doubt it,” she said. “We should guess they will be at least as tireless as we are, and mayhap more so. Then we cannot be surprised, except pleasantly.”
“What do you mean to do, then?” Gem yawned. “Ride on until we collapse? I do not think that will help our cause. I am blessed with great stamina, but even I tire eventually.”
“Yes, we are all well aware of your great endurance.” Annis rolled her eyes. “Never have I called you the Prince of Snores under my breath.”
Shadeborn: A Book of Underrealm Page 6