A Sword from Red Ice

The touch had left heigh a queer state of shock and restlessness. She was beginning to think the birches were getting to her. Nothing was making any sense. If Lan had wanted to touch her why hadn't he just come out and done it openly? And why had he treated her with contempt since then, answering her questions with the shortest possible responses and sometimes not even answering at all?

Ash ran her hands down her long blond hair, wringing it free of mist. The gap between her and Lan Fallstar had widened and she found herself not anxious to close it. It had to be close to midday now yet the sun remained a distant and shadowy presence keeping pace with them through the trees, and the mist continued to thrive. She was only just beginning to comprehend how little she knew of anything in the world beyond Mask Fortress. Her maid Katia had coupled with dozens of men—and she had been a year younger than Ash. Katia would have known what to make of Lan Fallstar's behavior. She would have taken charge of things and turned the situation to her be§t advantage. Ash paused to think about that. No, Katia wouldn't have really acted that coldly. She had enjoyed coupling with men. "Sweet and delicious as peaches," she'd told Ash once once. "You should try it when you get the chance."

Flustered, Ash set aside the subject. She glared at the trees. She was beginning to hate them. The ground was spongy here. It was strange to crunch through hard snow and then feel the earth spring back. Perhaps that was one way Lan navigated, the texture of the earth beneath his feet.

Deciding she'd had enough walking, Ash stilled the gelding and mounted. The sound of leather snapping and metal striking metal broke the silence like a series of small explosive charges. She had not realized how quiet the forest was until that moment. Birds weren't even calling.

"Stay where you are." Lan Fallstar's voice came from a white and hazy point in the distance.

She could not see him, even with the extra height of the horse. With an expert adjustment of the reins she turned the gelding in the direction she hoped was east. Away from Lan Fallstar. The sturdy little horse seemed up for a trot and struck a path through the mist. The crowns of the birches were so high that hitting branches wasn't a problem, and the birches themselves were spaced well enough apart that a way through could be navigated at a trot. It felt good to ride away. She had agreed to become Sull at an unknowable cost to herself and Raif Sevrance. She had not agreed to trot behind a Sull Far Rider like a.

She was Ash March, foundling, left outside Vaingate to die. That had not drained away with her blood. She was almost-daughter to a surlord, and that had not changed either.

Ark Veinsplitter and Mal Naysayer had treated her with respect. Daughter, Ark had called her. Lan Fallstar didn't even use her name. So why was she so anxious to please him?

It was all very confusing. Like the birch way. Glancing around, Ash realized she had no way of telling how far she and the gelding had come. Every tree looked like the one she had just passed. A stirring of wind had made the mist choppy, and clouds sprayed up in loose waves. Slowing the gelding to walk she breathed it in and tried to calm herself.

She could hear no sound of pursuit. Now that the heat was leaving her she felt foolish and a bit afraid. Would it be possible to retrace her steps? A look over her shoulder revealed a landscape of haunted trees. If Lan Fallstar stood amongst them he was hidden by the mist.

The stubborn part of her wanted to continue on her path, just carry on going and somehow muscle her way out, but the practical part warned her to go back now while she was still pretty certain how far she had come. This was Sull land, she reminded herself. She could not be entirely sure that the mystery of the birches was purely physical. Strange sorceries might be woven between the trunks. Ark had told her about the Sull maygi and necromancers, men and women who birthed ancient magics by the dark of moon and lived apart in high sea caves and open towers. It would be only natural that such powers be used in defending the one thing they cared about above all others: defending their borders. What if she could never escape?

"Come on, boy," she said, kicking her heels into the gelding's belly and making the creature turn. This wasn't going to be pretty, having to return to Lan Fallstar with her tail between her legs, but it would be a lot less pretty if she turned insane and started loving the trees.