Of Truth and Beasts

Like the seasons’ rhythms, Wynn’s daily life changed from her time aboard the ships. She drove the wagon all day while Chane and Ore-Locks slept in the back, under cover, and on opposite sides of the wagon. Then they woke to stand guard all night.

Shade napped only during the day, perched upon the wagon’s bench with Wynn, but she never seemed to fully sleep. Often, she would suddenly lift her head, going rigid all over as she stared into the wild. It happened most when they passed through densely wooded regions. Her vigilance began making Wynn more nervous in having left civilization. And too often, Wynn began peering into the trees as well, waiting to hear a voice or voices of the Fay rise in her thoughts.

But the trees were silent, and the wagon rolled on. Soon the isolated woods thickened into even denser forests between the open fields and hills.

One day, as dusk approached, Chane and Ore-Locks were asleep in the back when Wynn spotted a side road beyond the wagon line’s head. Another appeared shortly after on the other side. They’d come to a main fork.

The chieftain, A’drinô, shouted from ahead for a halt. He came striding back to Wynn’s wagon, his heavy braid swinging as he walked, and he pointed to the left, northeasterly path.

“That leads to Lhoin’na lands and a’Ghràihlôn’na,” he said. “Keep to the road, and you’ll come to an open plain. Their forest proper is beyond it, and the capital not much farther.”

A’drinô gestured toward the southeast fork on the right.

“We’ve a few stops along the valley’s southern foothills.” He glanced at Shade, then back at Wynn, and a wry smile spread across his mouth. “Tell your pale friend and the dwarf they might not be missed. Some of my men have grown lazy, sleeping through the nights.”

“Thank you for everything,” Wynn replied, though she was puzzled. Apparently the caravan wasn’t bound for Lhoin’na lands; perhaps they had no cargo to trade there.

A’drinô nodded, still smiling, and turned away. But he paused, glancing northward with a frown.

“Lhoin’na patrollers are ... strict about anyone crossing the plain.”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “Never understood it. They allow no blood spilled there, neither for hunting nor injury. Keep any weapons sheathed or stored, and take it slow, at a comfortable pace.”

His words tickled something at the back of Wynn’s mind—something about an open field on the way to an elven forest. She couldn’t remember what it was, let alone where she’d heard ... whatever she couldn’t remember.

“You don’t know why?” she asked.

“For any people, the reasons for some old ways can be long forgotten. All that’s left is a tradition. But polite as the elves are in their way, they take this one seriously.”

Wynn nodded, anxious without knowing why. A’drinô returned a curt bow and walked away. When the caravan rolled on and Wynn reached the fork, she guided the wagon out of the line and onto the side road.

Shade immediately rose on the bench, ears stiff as she watched the caravan leave them behind. She turned about, pressing her shoulder against Wynn and exhaling two sharp huffs.

—stay ... Wynn ... people—

With those words came another flash of the night the Fay had assaulted Wynn.

“This is the only way,” she answered, but even she watched the trees closely.

The farther they went, the more Shade fidgeted, trying to watch everywhere at once. But in less time than expected, a break in the forest appeared ahead. Wynn pulled the horses to a halt where the trees stopped.

An open plain of tall grass gently undulated with tans and traces of yellow-green. Wynn thought she spotted hints of white wildflowers, but they were too hidden to see clearly. Farther out, the edge of a vast forest, more overwhelming than the one she left, stretched both ways beyond sight.

At first, the trees didn’t seem too far away, but then Wynn realized why. Where the road entered between them, it looked like no more than a thread in width. The tallest of those trees were immense, ancient sentinels.

Wynn had never been here before, but the sight was eerily familiar.

Shade huffed again, looking off to the left as she shoved in closer against Wynn. A dull, distant pounding grew in volume.

Three riders came across the grassy plain at a full gallop. The rear pair held their reins one-handed, and gripped long, wooden poles in the other. The leader appeared to hold only a bow in his free grip. But as they raced nearer, the first thing Wynn noticed about the riders themselves was their hair and eyes.