“No. I won’t hear it.” He strode along the path to the Temple’s entrance before turning back. “We had alerted the watchmen. What more could you have done? What plausible reason would you have to run headfirst into danger?”
“I—”
“Haven’t we lost enough?”
Aloisia blinked, his words crystallising like a shard of ice in her heart. “Tristan?”
He ran a shaky hand through his sandy hair, turning back to the Temple. “Goodnight.”
“Tris!” she called after him. When he didn’t stop, she bolted along the path behind him. But too late. The Temple doors slammed in her face, and she didn’t have the strength to follow him inside. Not when he was so furious with her. She placed a palm on the door, leaning forward until her forehead touched it. “I’m sorry,” she uttered under her breath.
“Come on.” Kaja clasped her shoulder. “We should get back. It’s not safe out here.”
Aloisia trailed back to the mares with Kaja, wrapping her arms about herself, trying to keep out the icy pain which spread out from her heart. She couldn’t shake that look in his eyes. The panic, the anger, the hurt.
Haven’t we lost enough?
His words rang in her mind as they rode back to the guild.
Haven’t we lost enough?
Back at the guild, Aloisia returned her mare to the stables. Kaja had not said a word as they’d travelled back, only magnifying Tristan’s rage at her actions. She did not know why she’d been so determined to follow the wisps, to seek the Forgotten God. Part of her wanted answers, hoping by seeing the creatures again something would have clarified. Another part could not stand by whilst the thing that killed Brighde walked the streets.
The words the wisp had spoken echoed in her head.
Stop him.
Save her.
If only she had known what it meant. Perhaps Brighde would have lived.
And so, she sought the Forgotten God, hoping to atone for not saving Brighde by saving another. Her own safety, and both Tristan’s and Kaja’s, had not entered her mind.
Aloisia meandered to the cliff edge beyond her home. As the moon rose higher in the night sky, the breeze from the sea grew stronger and colder. The chill of the air was nothing compared to the ice in her heart. She had never seen Tristan like this. It terrified her. She drew in a frigid breath, trying to erase that look in his eyes. The waves below were molten silver in the moonlight, rippling between light and dark. She needed a distraction.
Aloisia cast her thoughts back to the night before, when they’d first spoken to Inari, and tried to remember his words regarding the wisps and the Forgotten Gods. He had said as there was darkness, so too would there be light. Neither were ever far from each other, and it seemed to be accurate enough. Something tugged at her memory. Something he had said about the wisps never facing the Forgotten Gods. And yet, they had expelled one before her. Though she didn’t want to consider it, she wondered how much of the information Inari knew was correct. After all, he was their only source of information on these things. What else was he wrong about?
Before she could think twice, could talk herself out of it, Aloisia strode into the Dead Woods, intent on questioning Inari again. Staying still wasn’t an option, not when her mind was reeling from the past few days. She followed the indents upon the tree trunks, finding her way back to Inari’s hut. The woods were quiet, nary even a rustle of wings from the branches above. But the earthy scent of the forest, of the grass underfoot, was comforting. Aloisia trailed her fingers across the rough bark of the trees as she passed. The hut came into view, a flickering candle visible through the window. She thanked the Divines he was still awake.
As she approached the small wooden shack, Aloisia pondered how to convince the shaman to help them. This time she had not brought something to barter. Perhaps the promise of something from a future hunt would work? She resolved to figure it out should he ask for something in return for his answers and rapped on the door three times.
Aloisia waited a long moment. There was no answer. Peering beyond the open shutters, she saw no sign of him. The candlelight was dim, but she was certain he wasn’t inside. She backed away and circled slowly, searching for any sign of where he’d gone. A stack of wood rested against one side of the hut, clearly his work from earlier. A couple of rabbits hung from hooks, either offerings or food for himself. She wasn’t sure which.
Glimpsing out into the gnarled silhouettes of the leafless trees, she hunted for any disturbances in the earth, any tracks showing where he’d gone. Alongside the small spring were faint footprints. Aloisia followed them around the width of the spring and deeper into the woods.
With each step she took, she drew further into the forest than she had ever been. She scored each tree with her blade, marking her route back. Though trepidation prickled over her skin, she continued. If she turned back, if she went home, she would have to be alone with her thoughts. At least here, within the woods, she could focus on something more immediate. Like finding Inari.
The footprints trailed off towards a wide stream. She hadn’t even known there was a stream within the Dead Woods. As she approached the bank, she looked downstream for any sign of the shaman. There were no tracks on the other side, so she did not think it likely for him to cross the stream. Not unless he had waded further to end his trail here. But why—
“Ro suda?”
Aloisia turned at his voice, spotting the shaman further upstream, the water lapping around his bare waist. She also noted his clothes discarded on the banks.
“To what do I owe the privilege of a third visit?” His lips pulled up in a fiendish grin. “If I were not mistaken, I would say the little wolf is fond of me.”
“Fond?” Aloisia scoffed, her cheeks burning, as she glanced away from him. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Why do you look away? Does my nakedness offend you?”
