Torjack groans with reluctance. “Fine. But be careful, Ryn. Ineedyou.”
“I’ll be okay. Just make sure you take your medicines and let Penju escort you to the healers. If you feel stiff anywhere, rest and relax.”
I glance their way as I finish off my fruit. They’re hugging. When Torjack turns and ducks his head to enter Penju’s hut, Rynthea stares at the spot where he’d been standing for several seconds with sorrow twisting her features. Her grip tightens around the handle of her scythesword, then she turns around and stomps down the steps.
“Let’s go,” she mutters, brushing past me.
“All set?” Algar calls after her.
Rynthea doesn’t answer, just keeps marching.
Thane pushes off the wall to grab Pearl’s reins and waits for me to pass. When we walk through the wooden gates of Winstoft, I can’t help giving the quaint village one more look before continuing on.
I know how Rynthea feels. Leaving someone you love behind to do something incredibly dangerous yet could potentially save their lives? It’s a hard decision to wrap your head around. None of it makes sense, but it feels necessary. I should know. I’m in the same boat.
Not that Ryntheahasto do this, but if there is treasure in Elphar, she and Torjack could live the rest of their lives in peace. Torjack could have as many treatments as he wants. They could probably find a permanent healer for his disease. Kamtaur Inn would be restored. They could hire protection so no one would attempt to destroy it again. So many possibilities are ahead if this works out.
A forest looms before us. Rynthea clomps through a gap between two trunks, and her large body disappears as she goes deeper. I hurry to catch up with her.
“We need to be careful walking through here.” Rynthea’s voice is low as the forest becomes dense and thick with trees. Sunlight becomes scarce, and several crows perched on nearby branches flap away. “There are paths in Delchester Forest that you donotwant to encounter. Do you see that?” She pauses for a moment, pointing at a fork in the trail ahead. “Nevertake the left or right.Alwaysstay on the middle path.”
“You’ve been through here before, too?” Algar asks.
“Twice,” she answers. “And only during the day. I’ve heard stories about people veering off. They never return.”
I look both ways as we press forward. The left path doesn’t seem too bad. More light is coming from that way than the middle; however, the right is ominously dark. Clumps of long moss hang from the branches, floating like bodies that have been maliciously strung up. Branches croak, and the wind carries an eerie melody from that direction.
Out of instinct, I move closer to Rynthea but end up bumping into her arm. She glances at me with a note of concern.
I force a smile. “Sorry.”
“All good.” She says that, but her scythesword is gripped tighter in hand now, like she’s expecting something to attack at any minute.
Up close, I see that the scythesword’s blade is made of gleaming silver with a clean-cut edge and a dangerously sharp tip. It isn’t your typical farmer’s scythesword. Hers is crafted delicately, the polished black handle half of its usual size. The handle is crafted in a rope-like design and is truly impressive, especially since not many people fight and kill with scytheswords. They are much heavier than your usual sword and require not only great strength, but a unique set of skills.
“So why are we going through Delchester Forest if it’s not safe?” I ask. “There are other routes, right?”
“Delchester is the quickest route from Winstoft to Bernwood,” she answers. “We could have traveled to Junsho and hiked the mountains or waited at the ports, but the steepness of the mountains would slow us down, and who knows how long it would take just to get someone to let us ride their ship? Junshorians keep to themselves and aren’t always inclined to go out of their way. If you want to beat that curse you mentioned, we can’t afford to spend time begging for a ship ride to Bernwood ports. That could take days.”
“Oh.” I try matching my pace with hers. She has long strides, and her hooves stamp into the ground hard enough for me to consider being careful where I step. I’m lucky to not have broken spectacles. The last thing I need is a broken foot.
“I’ve heard way too many stories about Delchester,” Algar says behind me. “Where I’m from, they call itDeathchester.”
“For good reason,” Thane mutters, leading Pearl, who is packed up with our rucksacks and satchels.
“It’s not too bad if you know where you’re going.” Rynthea scans the area ahead as she steps over a thick tree root.
“How long will it take to get to Bernwood from here?” I ask.
“Two hours, give or take.”
“Hmm.” Silence lingers between us before I clear my throat. “Well, while we’re having a rare moment of tranquility, I was thinking I might need a weapon of my own.”
“For what?” asks Thane.
I glance over my shoulder at him. He’s frowning.
“Because if I’m traveling with people like all ofyou—”
