Belythna stepped out from under the boughs of the Forest of Shadow and looked up at the sky.
It was nearing noon. A freezing wind buffeted across the shallow, arid valley in which they stood. Behind them, to the north, lay the dark bulk of the forest and to the south, the craggy outlines of the northern-most reaches of the Rock and Pillar Mountain range.
They had reached a cross-roads, a turning point.
Belythna had been both anticipating and dreading this moment. It marked the beginning of her new life, but also signalled that she would have to bid Floriana good-bye.
She turned to the slender blonde woman beside her. The cross-hatching of scratches on Floriana’s face had all scabbed over and were healing well; however she was still not a pretty sight. Likewise, the scabs on Belythna’s face had been itching all day and it had taken all her will not to scratch at them.
“This is it,” Floriana gave her a wan smile, her gaze sweeping the lonely valley.
“Where will you go?” Belythna asked.
“To Dunethport for now. After that, I might take a boat elsewhere.” Her gaze fixed upon Belythna then. “And you?”
Belythna shrugged. “I have no idea.”
“You need to get as far as possible from here, hide yourself in a place Riadamor will never think to look.”
“I may go to Starne Island for a while,” Belythna replied. “I’ll skirt the western foothills of the Rock and Pillars, get some supplies in Mirfaran and head south.”
“She’ll never stop looking for you,” Floriana warned. “Remember that.”
Floriana then dug into a pouch that hung from her waist and withdrew a small cloth bag. It clinked as she passed it to Belythna.
“I made these a few days before the battle – I think you should keep them.”
Belythna opened the bag and emptied its contents onto her palm. A handful of teardrop-shaped, black stones gleamed in the winter’s light.
“Charms,” Belythna breathed before glancing back at her friend. “Surely you should keep one for yourself.”
Floriana shook her head. “Since you carry the Blood Stone, you will need all the protection you can get. Keep them safe and use the amulets if Riadamor draws close. Beware of taking anyone into your confidence. You know she won’t spare them.”
Belythna nodded, considering Floriana’s words. There was an urgency to her voice she had never heard before. Her friend’s eyes were glittering with tears as she took hold of Belythna’s hands and gripped them tightly.
“I can see you are glad to be free,” Floriana attempted another smile but failed, “that you wish to leave your old life behind, to forget you were ever one of the Sentorân. But she won’t forget. Don’t ever let your guard down.”
Belythna sighed and squeezed Floriana’s hands – her fingers were ice-cold – before releasing them. “I thought I hid it from you.”
Floriana shook her head, and finally managed a rueful smile. “Never.” She then stepped back and drew her cloak close. “Take care of yourself, Belythna. I hope we shall meet again.”
“We will,” Belythna promised her. “Keep safe.”
She watched Floriana DeSanith walk away. She was heading south-east towards the arid lands between two mountain chains: the Rock and Pillars and the Silverthorne Mountains. She was a slight, waiflike figure against the windswept hills.
Belythna remained there awhile, watching Floriana. Her friend’s stride did not waver; she did not look back. Belythna was sad to see her go, for Floriana had been a constant in her life since her arrival at Deep-Spire. Yet, she did not mind being alone.
I’ve always been alone.
Belythna turned then, the chill wind feathering her cheeks, and began walking south.
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