“Guardian?”
Dess scratched his forehead. “I dunno. A spirit from Fair Havens who watches over us. I think the bird probably just spent too long in the Sutherlunds. There are these great craters that expel mist from the underground rivers that originate in Losrohiria. People say it’s steeped in Losrohiri magic, and if you spend too long breathing it, strange things happen to you.”
Thia raised her eyebrows. “Like what?”
“Like madness.” He wiggled his fingers at her.
She snorted.
Mavrel ran his beak through her hair.
“It seems he’s adopted you,” Dess said.
Thia giggled. “That tickles.” She raised a hand. “This is a dangerous quest,” she told the bird. He stopped preening her and hopped off her shoulder and onto the ground. “You should go.”
He gave an indignant shake of his head and pecked the skin of her hand again.
She tore it away. “Fine. You can always fly off if you change your mind.”
He ruffled his feathers as if to say,Not likely.
“That’s settled then.” Dess rose to his feet. “Shall we?”
She took the hand he offered and helped him stuff the remnants of their meal into his pack, then shouldered her own.
He nodded once in approval, then called over to their other companion, “Thran! We’re leaving.”
Thran grimaced, raising a hand to indicate he’d heard. Thia watched him return the remainder of his bread to his pack, noting how little he’d consumed.
They set off, Thia and Dess hand in hand again so that they wouldn’t lose each other in the darkness. Or, Thia guessed, so that she wouldn’t lose him. He’d probably have been fine on his own.
She told him as much, and he laughed. “When I first came to the forest, I was a disaster,” he admitted. “I got lost at least once a week, tripped over things…broke my nose once falling on a log.”
“How long until your eyes adjusted?”
“I’m not sure they did,” he replied. “I don’t reckon I see any better now than I did then. I just know what to look for in the shadows.”
For Thia, that was not the case. Every shape was the same, just another blur in the expanse of dark. The only blot of difference was above, where far over their heads small speckles of light outlined tiny gaps in the thick foliage.
After another four hours or so, her feet ached, and her calves were cramping. She couldn’t tell if Dess was perceptive, or if it was just that time, but she nearly fell over in relief when he decided they should rest for the night.
They set up camp under the branches of an extraordinarily large tree. Thran started a fire, and Thia followed Dess’s lead in spreading the bedroll from her pack across the forest floor. They ate a meal of dehydrated rabbit meat, then settled down without saying much, too exhausted for chatter. Mavrel flew off into the darkness, likely to find roost in a branch somewhere.
Thia’s lids were heavy, her body sore. She stretched out, warm in the roll, and was asleep almost instantly.
TEN
SOMEONE WAS THERE. THIA WAS SURE OF IT. SHE HAD BEEN DREAMINGabout home, a pleasant sequence involving Grandma Winnie andGilmore Girlsthat was quickly fading as she blinked in the darkness. With the dense tree cover, she had no idea what time it was, but Dess was still snoring next to her, and Thran was a motionless log a few feet away.
Her skin prickled. She struggled to silence her breathing, sure she could hear rustling.
“Mavrel?” she whispered into the dark.
There was no answering call. She sat up, unease squirming in her stomach. The fire had dimmed to coals, giving just enough light to see the outlines of her travel companions, but nothing beyond them.
The rustle sounded again. In the tree above her. She froze, her heartbeat in her throat.
Silence.
