“Insanity.”
“Take care on your way,” Mavka said.
Aloisia slipped out the double doors into the mid-morning air. From here on the outskirts of town, the steeples of the Temple towered like knife points atop the cluster of buildings below. Though her brother lived in the shadow of the Temple, beside the Lower Gardens, the smithy was closer to the market square a few streets away. Tired from riding and hunting all morning, Aloisia longed to stretch her legs.
She meandered to the cliff edge, looking down on Feldkirk Bay and the busy port of the capital, Ephroditia. Vessels sailed amidst the harbour waters. From this height, the ships appeared like wooden toys she could pluck from the waters. It all supplied the illusion that the capital was far closer, as if she might throw a stone and it would land in the streets. However, the journey would take over five hours without a break.
Aloisia stretched her arms, regarding the Dead Woods with a wary eye, the branches groaning in the breeze. Their bark was ink black, as if the trees had suffered a fire and were coated in charcoal. The place always sent chills down her spine. As if something powerful had once governed the land, and it had never quite left.
Between the trunks, something shifted. A shadow? Or silhouette? She froze, searching the forest for movement. After a painfully long moment, Aloisia released her breath in a sigh. A trick of the light, perhaps?
She shook her head, dismissing the notion that something lurked in the woods. Even if it did, she wasn’t about to go looking for it. Older gods than the Divines had once ruled this land. And she had no intention of greeting them this day.
TWO
Aloisiaambledalongasmalldirttrackwhichtrailedthecliffedge.Shetookadeepbreath,lettingthesaltaircalmhernerves.ItwasnotunusualtoseeodditieswithintheDeadWoods.Thoughthatdidn’tmakeitanylessunsettling.
Fields of wheat lay to her right. The golden shafts swayed in the breeze. Cattle called from nearer the main road, muffled by the waves crashing far below. She brushed her fingers across the taller wheat, reaching out from the low wooden fence. The outer portion of the town drew closer with each step until the fields of crops turned to muddy patches of grass, and the compacted dirt beneath her feet became cobbles.
While Kaja was right and the journey took longer, by the time Aloisia reached the small wooden shacks on this side of Littlewatch, her legs were less stiff and her head clearer. The town lay upon a hill and the street inclined with it.
The children playing in the lane paused as they noticed her. One of the younger girls, with huge brown eyes and wild dark curls, bounded over to her.
“Lisia, Lisia!” she called, not quite able to pronounce Aloisia’s name. She hadn’t ever minded.
Aloisia knelt, opening her arms to catch the girl. “How are you, Emilya? Have you been practicing your archery?”
“I have,” she said, jumping back excitedly. “I hit the target twice the other day. It wasn’t in the centre, but I hit it!”
“Excellent, you’re improving. We’ll make a huntress of you yet.”
“You’re a huntress?” one of the older boys asked, his gaze going to the beads in her hair.
“I am. One of the Huntress’s Chosen Seven.”
“I told you I knew a real-life actual huntress.” Emilya turned to the boy, sticking out her tongue.
“Keep training, Em. You’ll get there.” Aloisia knew she could not promise such things, as limited as places were within the guild. However, if not for Mavka encouraging her on this path from a young age, she probably never would have strived to become a huntress.
She mussed the little girl’s hair and left her to her friends, following the narrow road up towards the market square. The bustling chatter grew louder as she drew near. Townsfolk wove between the numerous stalls as traders called out about their wares. Apprentices darted through the square, bearing trays or baskets laden with goods. Aloisia picked her way to Iron Row on the opposite side, where the smiths serving the town lay.
The temperature rose to an uncomfortable degree as she headed to the smithy her brother owned. Each smith dedicated their craft to different things, from horseshoes to jewellery, weapons to household items. Whilst her family had always specialised in weapons, as well as providing beads for the Hunting Guild, her brother had found another market: gifts. In particular, crafting beautiful ornaments from metal. And the queue winding from the smithy’s door up the street showed the popularity of his idea.
Wanting to avoid the crowd, Aloisia slipped down a side alley and entered the smithy from the back. As usual, Ma was in the kitchen, likely making something for her brother. She flopped into one of the kitchen chairs, putting her feet up on the table. The walk over had left her limbs aching. Perhaps Kaja was right and travelling on horseback would have been the better idea.
“Lis, have you eaten yet?” Ma asked, pottering over with a pan of steaming broth.
“I have, thanks Ma.”
“I’ll put some to one side, just in case.”
“No, really, it’s all right.” Aloisia leant her head back, closing her eyes. She would never get used to the early morning hunts.
“You need your strength, girl. You’ve been here two minutes and you’re already falling asleep.”
“Not asleep.”
“Feet down,” another voice instructed.
