Hunter was in the middle of their camp, arranging the kindling. The sleeping bags were unrolled and Betty was unsaddled, dozing off to the side. Nessa deposited her armful of branches beside Hunter and sat cross-legged next to him. He eyed her haulage and began selecting firewood, arranging it over the kindling. “Good job,” he said as he pulled a fire pouch from his pocket. “Although I was beginning to wonder where you had got to.”
“I had a run in with a squirrel,” Nessa explained, watching as Hunter took a pinch of tinder out of the pouch and nestled it into the leaves. “It delayed me.”
“A squirrel, ehh?” Hunter grinned, placing his firesteel near the tinder, striking it. “I hear they can be bloodthirsty little bastards.”
Nessa snorted. “Gave me a shock until I realised what it was.”
Hunter laughed.
The firesteel shed sparks, then an ember grew on the tinder, making it smoke and blacken. Hunter nursed it, carefully placing dry leaves on top, allowing a flame to take root. It grew, devouring the leaves and twigs that Hunter fed to it, and he piled large branches around the fledgling fire, allowing it to establish itself.
The flames brightened, flooding their campsite with dancing light, and soon warmed the air around them.
“That’s better,” Hunter said, settling down and packing away his fire pouch.
Nessa nodded and watched the flames for a moment, then pulled the messenger bag’s strap from her shoulders, placing the bag on her lap. She checked that the orb was safe and wrapped up tightly against the cold, and then set it over to the side as she positioned her sleeping bag a little closer to the fire, to benefit from its warmth later in the night.
“You hungry?” Hunter asked, reaching for the supply bag.
“Only a little.” The hearty breakfast from The Iron Horse was still working its magic.
Hunter snapped off a corner of cheese and tossed it to her, before breaking off a chunk for himself. Nessa nibbled at it, not particularly hungry but eating just for the sake of it.
“So,” Hunter said, “are you ready for your adventure?”
Nessa shrugged. “I suppose, though I do hope it’s uneventful. I’ve had my fill of mad men since I’ve come here.”
“Haven’t we all,” Hunter sounded a little wry. “But you have a week to experience new sights, see things you never have before.”
And be reminded of how far away from home I really am, Nessa finished silently.
“If you want,” Hunter continued, “we could take a detour and visit a few of the Twelve Kingdom’s wonders, like the Fire Falls or the Crystal Lake.”
Nessa finished her bit of cheese and tugged off her boots, feeling rather melancholy all of a sudden. “If you don’t mind,” she said quietly, “I would just like to find Orm and see if there’s a way home.”
“Oh. Of course,” Hunter sounded a touch surprised. “Of course you would want to see if you can get home first.”
“Yes,” Nessa said, slipping into her sleeping bag. “The sooner the better too.”
“You in a rush or something?”
Nessa could tell that he was trying to be upbeat, trying to be nice, but she discovered that this was becoming a sensitive subject for her. “My mum’s having a baby soon,” she murmured, snuggling down into the sleeping bag. “I should be there with her, to support her, to tell her I’m sorry for how things have become lately, that things will now change.”
Hunter was painfully quiet for a time, then Nessa heard him shift around for a moment, sliding into his sleeping bag as well.
“Then we had best get some rest,” Hunter said quietly. “Otherwise we’ll be too tired to cover much ground tomorrow.” Even though he didn’t say it, Nessa knew he was disappointed that she wanted to leave so urgently, and a part of her felt guilty about that.
Nessa rolled onto her side and closed her eyes, dreaming of all the things she would say to her mother when she got back. The thought of home, of righting the rift that had formed between them over the last few months was a slight consolation to Nessa, and eased the ache in her heart a little.
But as the old ache dulled, another one formed, making sleep elusive.
Nessa twisted in her sleeping bag, which was lined with dense fur for warmth, and peered over at Hunter. He was asleep already, his eyes closed and his chest rising and falling with deep, steady breaths.
Yes, a large part of her wanted to go home. However, a small part wondered what it would be like to stay a little longer.
∞∞∞
The morning was brisk, and the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, not quite ready to chase away the chill of night, allowing a thin layer of frost to cling to blades of grass. A bird sang in a nearby tree, its tune swiftly turning from a pleasant alarm clock to a persistent annoyance. Nessa blinked tired eyes, only half awake, and propped herself up on an elbow, intending to scare the little menace away and get a few more minutes of shuteye.
“Good morning sleepyhead,” Hunter said. “You’re up just in time for breakfast.”
Nessa turned, finding Hunter crouched by the fire, stirring a cooking pot. She sniffed, instantly awake, her stomach grumbling. Something smelt good.
Hunter chuckled. “I see someone’s hungry.”
“I suppose I am,” Nessa said with as much dignity as one could whilst their stomach growled like an angry bear. “I confess, this is a better start to the morning than I was expecting.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, a clear sky, a fairly decent night sleep, breakfast in bed, of sorts. What more could a girl ask for while on the run?” Nessa sat up, the sleeping bag pooling around her hips, keeping her legs covered and warm.
“Well,” Hunter said, arranging two bowls on the ground, “I did say camping is a lot better with me as company.”
Nessa grinned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She hadn’t lied when she said that sleep had been fairly good, for she had slept solidly for much of the night. However, her troubled mind had kept her awake to start with, and while the sleeping bag was soft and warm, she had still been on the hard ground, and it took some time to find a comfortable position. As Nessa watched Hunter dish up breakfast, the fog in her mind started to clear little by little, and she told herself to be grateful that she hadn’t had any more waking dreams.
Hunter handed her a bowl and a wooden spoon, and Nessa discovered that breakfast was a stew, thick with chunks of meat and vegetables. Herbs had been added too, and Nessa wolfed it down.
“That was lovely,” Nessa said, scraping the bowl clean.
Hunter grinned. “I aim to please. Can’t have your first adventure starting off with nothing less than the best breakfast I could provide.”
“Your efforts are greatly appreciated.”
“Glad to hear it,” Hunter said as he gathered up the dirty cutlery and rinsed them clean using a water pouch. He then packed them away.
Nessa ran her eyes over him, noticing that he had changed into fresh clothing, his hair was brushed and his demeanour said that he was ready to go. He had clearly been awake for awhile. Nessa stretched and reached behind her, pulling her hair over her shoulder and giving it a cursory brush through with her fingers, working out the worst of the knots, and then quickly braided it.
After worming out of her sleeping bag, Nessa slipped on her boots and helped to pack up their camp. She rolled up her sleeping bag, placing it and her other bag next to Betty, who Hunter was currently saddling, and then collected Hunter’s belongings, adding them to the pile to be loaded up.
Hunter swiftly had Betty saddled and all their bits and pieces tied in place. All except Nessa’s messenger bag, which she had decided, for some inexplicable reason, to carry again.
Nessa sat by the fire as Hunter finished up, and when he came back to join her, he was carrying a roll of paper. A scroll, Nessa realised, when he unrolled it on the ground. Hunter used a few nearby stones to weigh down the corners, which were determined to curl back up, and Nessa saw that it wa
s a map.
On creamy parchment, harsh black ink depicted the world that Nessa was in: The Twelve Kingdoms.
A large ocean dominated much of the left hand side of the map, empty save for a small cluster of islands near the centre. The land curved around it, filled with swathes of mountain ranges and forests, and a river ran down the middle, splitting the land but connecting two large lakes together. Scattered throughout were dots and small stars showing the locations of villages, towns, and a handful of cities, their names written in elegant swirls beside them.
Nessa stared at the alien layout of the map, so unfamiliar that it made her feel completely out of her depths.
Hunter tapped the parchment, finger poised over a small mountain range in the lower half of the map that had a river running through it. “The Hidden City is here,” he said, then his finger slid a little lower and to the left, “and we are here.” The mountains had no marker for any towns or cities, but where Hunter’s finger now pointed, Nessa could see the elegant scripture spelling out Ironguard.
“The quickest route, which we’ll be taking, is to go through the Burning Forest,” Hunter’s finger came to a rest by the side of the mountains, “and then go through one of the mountain passes that leads into the city.”
“Sounds good to me,” Nessa said.
“There are a few villages on the way,” Hunter continued. “But we’ll skirt around them, avoiding them completely unless we need supplies. Although food shouldn’t be a problem, since I can always set traps to catch some small game.”
“Excellent,” Nessa murmured.
Hunter rolled up the map, stowing it back in the bag.
Nessa stood as Hunter untied Betty’s reins from the tree, and picked up her messenger bag. She frowned, feeling its weight. It seemed heavier than it had last night, considerably heavier. Nessa flipped it open, expecting to find several rocks or something equally heavy inside, but there was only the orb. She wondered if it had somehow gained weight. The idea seemed absurd, though, and Nessa discarded it.
She shouldered her bag, grimacing at the weight, and moved over to Hunter, who stood waiting with a nickering Betty by his side.
“You ready to go?” he asked, eyeing her bag warily, which was already becoming uncomfortable. Nessa simply nodded, deciding to ignore his loaded look and get going. “Then we shall head off. But before we do, I have one request.”
Nessa was surprised. “A request?”
“Now, I know that your introduction to this place wasn’t the best, and that things are different to what you’re used to.” He frowned. “Or, at least, I think they are. Anyway, I would just like to ask you to keep an open mind and not let the events with Margan and Shadow taint your time here.”
It was, perhaps, a bit of a weird request, but Nessa saw no harm to it and said, “I’ll try.” There was no sense in keeping Margan or Shadow in her mind any longer. Hopefully, in a week or so, she’ll be on her way home and never have to think of those two again.
For some inexplicable reason, as she gazed at Hunter, with his growing smile and his merry eyes, that thought didn’t give her quite as much joy as it should have done.
Nessa left the safety of the trees with a level of buzzing excitement. She took Hunter’s request in her stride, and cast away her worries and doubts. A week, that was all. Just seven days and everything would be put to right. Nessa was determined to enjoy each and every one of those days as best as she could. She might as well, because she would never be returning once she got home, that was for sure.
The sun had risen a little more, establishing itself low in the sky. It held the promise of some warmth later in the day, and already the delicate layer of frost had vanished from the tips of the grass. They set off and soon the shadow of Ironguard disappeared behind the rolling hills that spread out for miles in either direction. Without its watchful eye on her, Nessa felt as if a weight had been lifted. She felt lighter, happier than she had been in months, eager for her cross country adventure.
It would be the furthest she had ever travelled, going between worlds excluded. Previously that record had been held by the last house move she’d had to endure. Compared to that, which at the time had seemed monumental, moving from a big city to the middle of nowhere, this was on a whole new level.
This time round, though, instead of feeling angry and hurt like before, Nessa was beginning to burn with enthusiasm.
They trekked across a strip of grassland dotted with small clusters of young trees, then they climbed a particularly high hill. Atop the summit, Nessa could see for miles. Vast fields spread out before her, covering the earth in a multi-hued carpet of greens and the gold of ripening wheat. After descending the hill, they kept to the grass verges that divided the fields into blocks.
As the day continued on, and as the sun rose ever higher in the sky, butterflies emerged from their hideouts, flitting through the air, and colourful birds darted to-and-fro around them, calling out their curiosity.
Midday came and Nessa and Betty began flagging under the unexpected heat. Hunter pulled them to a stop by an irrigation stream, giving them time to rest. Tall reeds lined the sides, offering some dappled shade on the grassy bank where they sat. Hunter allowed Betty the freedom to roam, but the horse remained close, munching on the grass and drinking from the stream.
Hunter laid back in the long grass, throwing an arm over his eyes against the glare of the sun, and Nessa slipped off her boots, dipping her feet into the stream. The water was cool and soothed the patches of sore skin on her heels. Her boots were good quality, sturdy black leather with a robust sole, but they were new, and they had yet to mould to her feet.
For a time, Nessa basked in the sun, feeling it kiss her face, watching the light breeze stir the tops of the rushes, as Betty wandered over to a patch of lush grass.
This isn’t so bad, Nessa thought. In fact, it was a rather pleasant way to spend the start of the afternoon.
Something tickled her toes and Nessa peered into the stream. There, darting around her feet, were several small fish. She leaned in closer, and they swam away as her shadow fell over them. They were quickly back, though, investigating the curious sight of her wiggling toes.
At first, Nessa thought that they were just minnows, due to their size. But then she noticed that their bodies had an iridescent shimmer to them, and they had large splayed fins and tails. Perhaps they were fighting fish? But the water was too cold for that species, Nessa knew, and their colouring and shape wasn’t quite the same.
“They’re baby Mangers,” Hunter said, looking over Nessa’s shoulder, blinking heavily. “They’re common in the irrigation systems in the south. When they mature, they turn a beautiful green-blue.” He rubbed his face. “I think I fell asleep for a spell.”
“I think you did.”
“Little good it did me. I’m even more tired than I was earlier.” Hunter looked around, eyes suddenly growing wide. “The horse,” he gasped. “Where has the horse gone? Margret will kill me if I lose her bloody horse.”
Unworried, Nessa pointed.
Betty had crossed the stream a while ago and stood a short distance away, happily munching on a weed that had little pink flowers.
Hunter followed the line of her finger, and upon seeing Betty, relaxed. “Thank the Devils,” he muttered. “I don’t think I’ll be able to talk myself out of anymore trouble with Margret.”
“You and Margret,” Nessa mused. “The two of you do make a rather curious pair. How did that come about?”
“Margret knows my mother,” Hunter explained. “And a few years ago, when I got myself in a wee bit of trouble with the local authorities, she was kind enough to help me out. On mother’s behalf, she keeps reminding me. But I like to drop in every now and again.” He grinned. “Keeps her sweet, you see, for situations such as the one we got ourselves in the other night.”
Nessa recalled Margret’s worry when she and Hunter had stumbled into The Iron Horse. “She cares about you a great deal.”
Nessa raised her brows.
“I would rather be kicked in the face by a horse than slapped by Margret ever again. That woman has an unnatural amount of strength. I’ve been punched by grown men before that have hurt less than the slap I received when I...” Hunter paused, his cheeks turning bright pink. “Anyway,” he coughed. “You don’t need to know what I did. But let’s just say that Margret was less than impressed and my cheek stung for a week.”
Nessa grinned, imagining all kinds of trouble that Hunter could have got himself into.
Hunter rose, still red faced, and offered Nessa a hand. She took it, allowing him to help her to her feet. She pulled on her socks and boots as Hunter retrieved Betty, who was reluctant to leave her pink flowered weed, and together they set off once again, keeping to the sides of the fields, just as they had earlier. The long grass rose up to their knees and whispered softly with each step they took. While the fields looked like they were tended, Nessa didn’t see another soul around. Which was probably why Hunter was taking them that way, she reflected. With less people to see them, the smaller the chances of bounty hunters being able to track them down.
Usually when Nessa walked, she would think about things, and naturally, her mind wandered back to those jolly little fish. That thought soon led her mind back to The Bell, Book and Candle and to the creature trapped in the algae filled tank.
“Hunter, you remember Helen’s shop, right?”
He looked over his shoulder at her. “Yeah. Why?”
“In a tank she had something, a water sprite? I was just wondering why she would have one of those in her shop.”
“To sell, I would presume.”
“As a pet?”
“Perhaps. There are some people who think that if they own one, then it will bring them good luck.”
House of Fear and Freedom (The Wyrd Sequence Book 1) Page 14