Page 20 of Born of Starlight
Emmerick tied the horses to a highline he’d created between two trees, allowing them enough rope to graze and lie down.
“Can I be honest?” He rubbed the back of his neck.
“I always appreciate honesty.”
“I expected horns and sharp teeth—far more hair,” he said nervously. “There are rumors in Luz that you are…ghastly.”
I placed a hand over my mouth to suppress a smile, but it must have shown in my eyes because he returned it.
“You are odd…but pleasant. And you don’t have hooves—someone told me you would havehooves.” He was rambling now, and his light brown cheeks turned a shade of mauve.
At that, I couldn’t help it. I laughed at the young Commander trying so hard not to offend me and yet be honest. His innocence was refreshing. No man had ever entered my tower and walked away remembering what I’d looked like the following day. So, in a way, he was not the first man I’d ever seen, but he was the first to truly see me.
My fingers clumsily helped him loosen the packs before we set up camp. We had a meager canvas tent strapped between trees within half an hour. He, thankfully, told me when and how to help him. He unrolled two thick rugs and placed them on the ground before offering me a wool blanket from his pack.
“It’s not much, but without pack mules—”
I waved away his concern. “It’s just enough.”
Itwasn’tenough to keep me comfortable. I barely slept due to the hard ground and the howl of wolves in the distance, which fueled my already rampant nightmares. But if I looked directly up, traces of the stars between tree branches winked down at us.
Under the stars, at ground level, of my own will, all of that was enough.
* * *
We’d been ridingfor seven days before I stopped counting. My dark robe and breeches were dirtied beyond hope of laundering. My hair had caught twigs as we passed under trees and tangled into knots that there was no time to comb.
Despite every lack of luxury, I didn’t wish away the experience. Every creek we passed, every woodland creature we startled, my mind logged them all, and I wished to forget nothing about this journey.
We set up camp each night where we could find refuge from the elements, but I rarely slept. When I did, the nightmares persisted. I’d woken Emmerick up a few times with my screams, which was a feat since he slept like a bear. Being a heavy sleeper seemed a terrible quality for an army Commander.
While my mind longed for the experiences of nature, my body revolted. Emmerick was a good enough cook to make even a foraged and hunted meal edible. Still, my stomach was unused to wild game, and I constantly felt queasy.
I was not conditioned to travel, and every muscle ached, but it didn’t matter—we needed to find the warlock. To my relief, since we had started this journey, the voice hadn’t spoken to me again. I could only view that as a good omen despite the night terrors persisting.
It was the right path.
Yet the moonstone in my pocket remained a decorative, useless rock. Not seeing a solution could mean I wasn’t apartof the solution.
A lump grew in the back of my throat. It could also mean that my death would come before this war ended, as the prophecy had predicted. My hope was it wouldn’t be in vain.
* * *
We passedinto the North Corridor, avoiding any run-ins with beasts of the night or criminals. We’d been fortunate to that point. Unfortunately, the further into the northern woodlands we traveled, the more fog hung in the air, making it harder to see.
We were finally traveling westward when the canopy of trees grew even thicker and the forest floor darker. It was quieter here, eerily so. The trees were primarily redwoods and pines, and the brush was replaced with tangled roots of red and brown that threatened to trip our horses with each step.
“The right path,”I whispered to my steady red gelding as we neared a clearing of tall grasses, and the horse’s ears perked at the opportunity to graze. We’d become fast friends because I often had snuck scratches between his ears while Emmerick led us. Mounting and dismounting on my own had become easier, and I even steered myself for a few days.
We had to be close to the warlock. The Queen had marked where the cabin should be on the map, and we were within a few miles of the mark.
The sun had just set. Only shadows remained against the entwined root forest bed, a recipe for disaster on horseback after dark. Before I could tell Emmerick we should stop, there was rustling in the trees. Emmerick’s hand quickly found his sword’s hilt over his shoulder.
“Shh...” I cautioned with a raised hand.
Emmerick dismounted, and I followed.
Whispers carried in the wind—hushed, blurred sounds mixed with laughter and cries of despair that grew louder. It sounded like thousands of voices approached. The air grew so chilled our breath could be seen despite it being late spring. The dew on leaves around us froze.
