Possessed? Infested?
A variety of words had suggested themselves to him over the last day or so. He’d never quite managed to distract himself from them, no matter how much he tried to concentrate on preparation instead.
Silence was all but impossible in a forest, even one as inhabited as the woods near the Serpentspine Range were these days. All four of the people standing there stopped talking, though, stifled not just by awkwardness but by mention of the enemy behind Thyran—the enemy that, Vivian and Olvir knew, was partly among the four of them.
The woods provided refuge, as they often had for Olvir, with a patch of gold-streaked blue mushrooms at the bottom of a tree. Gathering them was a straightforward task, one that kept him from trying to tell if Vivian was watching him. “Coins-in-the-ocean,” he said, because the quiet had taken on too much weight. “They let you go a little longer without water.”
“You should take them, then,” said Emeth. “No wells where you’re going.”
“We don’t know that,” said Vivian.
“None that I’d want to drink from. I talk to frogs, but I don’t want to be one… Ah,” Emeth said. Olvir heard the motion of wings in the air, then chirping.
When he rose, with the mushrooms wrapped in a cloth, the greenwing was just taking flight from Emeth’s arm again.
“Keep on the path a little longer,” she said. “It’ll split around a big dead oak. You’ll go right. He doesn’t see Thyran’s forces out there. Doesn’t mean a few might not wander that direction for sport.”
“Thank you,” Olvir said and bowed.
“Keep your nose clean, Sir Paragon,” said Emeth. “Stay out of the bars and the brothels if you can manage it. Ember, come back before Kat gets used to bossing me around.”
“I doubt I can managethatturn of speed,” said Vivian with a small smile and a suspicious shine in her eyes, “but I’ll do my best. Be safe, both of you.”
That was all they had time for. The bird’s report had been true in the moment it had flown over Thyran’s army, but gods knew how long it would stay so. Without another word, Emeth and Kev turned back toward the camp, continuing to watch the undergrowth along their path.
Only Olvir and Vivian remained.
Part II
Our losses in the fire are naturally a setback. The fire itself, nonetheless, bodes very well indeed. If the Heart, newly incarnate and in a feeble infant’s body, could cause so great an effect, what may He not be capable of when properly grown and trained? Surely those present fulfilled the roles our god gave them by allowing this demonstration of His might—the might of but a fragment. We should not mourn them but rather honor their sacrifice.
The treachery of our servant is another matter. Even now we seek to find him. We will retrieve the Heart and its host. We already have taken steps to ensure no further such defections—and our manservant will learn correction at our hands.
—Janayal Verengir, Notes (In the Custody of Tinival’s Temple, Heliodar)
Those peoples in the forest beyond Klaishil are warlike and vigorous, for so their lands do make them. Sundrie creatures inhabit those woods, and many are fierce and will prey on man as readily as other game. My guide speaks of the greycat, nine feet long, which slips between shadows to seek its meals. It fears no fire, and its coat in most places is dense enough to turn all blades but those wielded with extraordinary strength.
He tells of other beasts as well…
—Bestiarie of the North, Author Unknown
Chapter 9
They took the path as silently as possible. Vivian found the need for quiet a relief. Conversation had been fine while they’d been with the others, but too much awareness had swiftly filled the space Emeth and Kev had left. All she could have come up with to say in the first moments of their absence was eitherFine day for a suicide mission, isn’t it?orSo, if you were to measure it from one to ten, how treacherous are you feeling today?
It was better to stride along, listening to birds calling to one another, making sure that the rustling in the trees came from nothing larger than squirrels, and covering as much ground as she could at a step without putting herself in danger of tripping. Sentinels healed far faster than normal people, but a broken ankle would be a hindrance.
The oak Emeth had described loomed ahead before long. To the left, the path they’d been on kept going, as narrow as always. It widened on the right. Vivian could spot the remnants of flat stones beneath the ground cover. A hundred years ago, a road had been there.
That gave them better footing but almost certainly meant increased danger. Packs of twistedmen often strayed from Thyran’s main forces, seeking food or amusement. The road would be as convenient for them as it was for Vivian and Olvir.
She watched the gaps in the trees carefully, alert for a glimpse of red, skinned flesh that would signal Thyran’s normal forces or the rot-bleached white that meant his scouts. Ulamir’s hilt was solid in her grip, the sword’s balance a comforting known as it had been since nearly childhood.
In life, I was wont to travel this road,said Ulamir.We remember each other yet. I cannot say how far out I would sense the presence of the Twisted, but I suspect it would stand out to my senses before even your vision, O Fireshaped.
Vivian sent silent thanks. Communication through that method was never complete from the Sentinel’s side, but it got easier the longer a bond with a soulsword lasted. There were some rewards to being old.
The Heart-Host travels well, said Ulamir, making Olvir sound like a type of dried fruit.A relief.
