Casimya peered through critically. “It appears correct. The magical signature matches.”
Mal stepped through first, hand on his sword. Always protective, ready to face whatever danger might be waiting on the other side.
I followed, then Casimya, then the five guards in quick succession. Each of them moved through with weapons ready, spreading out to secure the perimeter as soon as they landed. Professional and efficient. Probably overkill for an empty clearing, but I appreciated the thoroughness.
We stood in a small clearing surrounded by ancient trees, their branches reaching toward each other overhead like old friends holding hands. The air was thick with moisture. Somewhere distant, a bird called out, the sound echoing through the forest.
Noctherion woods. Wild, dangerous, and somewhere in its depths, a witch who might have answers. Or might tell us to go to hell.
Either way, we were about to find out.
Mal reached for me, our fingers lacing together. “Ready?”
I squeezed his fingers. “As ready as I will ever be.”
We started walking into the forest, leaving the portal shimmering behind us.
14
— • —
Wen
We’d been walking through Noctherion woods for hours, and I was exhausted. My feet ached. My legs burned. My pack felt like it weighed twice what it had when we started.
The forest was dense, the terrain difficult. Roots twisted across the path like they were deliberately trying to trip us. Rocks jutted up at odd angles. The undergrowth was thick enough that we had to push through it in places, branches catching on our clothes and hair.
Casimya led the way, her tracking spell pulling her forward with unerring accuracy. She moved through the trees like she’d been born to it, never stumbling, never hesitating. The rest of us struggled to keep up.
I noticed Mal watching me. He’d been doing it all day. When my pack started to slip, he was there to adjust it before I could.When a branch swung back toward my face, his hand shot out to catch it. When the terrain got particularly rough, his hand would appear at my elbow, steadying me without making it obvious.
“Here. I will carry that,” he said, reaching for my pack.
“I can carry my own pack,” I protested, even though the offer was tempting.
“I know,” he said simply. “Let me anyway.”
I let him take it without further argument. Pride was one thing, but practicality was another.
He slung my pack over his shoulder alongside his own, not even seeming to notice the extra weight. Show-off.
By the time the sun started to set, painting the forest in shades of gold and amber, we were all ready to stop. Casimya called a halt in a small clearing.
“We camp here,” she announced. “We are still half a day from Tyreen’s location.”
The guards set to work establishing a perimeter, their movements efficient. They’d done this hundreds of times. Two would keep watch while the others rested, rotating in shifts through the night.
Mal and I set up our tent. It was small, barely big enough for two people, designed for travel rather than comfort. We laid out our bedrolls side by side, the space so confined we’d be pressed together whether we wanted to be or not.
Not that I was complaining.
We climbed into the tent as darkness fell completely. Outside, I could hear the guards moving, the crackle of a small fire they’d built, the sounds of the forest at night. Insects chirping. Something hooting in the distance. The rustle of wind through leaves. Inside, it was just the two of us.
We lay down close together, neither of us quite ready to sleep despite our exhaustion.
“I keep thinking about Killian,” I admitted.
“As do I,” Mal said softly.
