Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 120974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
It’s a poor excuse but I make it work and turn my attention to starting the day. Though if I’m honest, I’d rather cuddle in Valen’s muscular arms—which is wrong. No matter what he says, we’re still enemies. I have to remember that. We’re only together for as long as this quest lasts. After we finish, we’ll part ways and never see each other again.
Why does that thought make me sad?
No matter—I shove my sorrow away and get moving. There’s nothing more to eat and only a few swallows of water left to drink—we share them equally. Then we step out of the cave and start looking for the path.
It takes some time to find it but at last I catch a glimpse of it, curving through the trees.
“There!” I point it out to Valen and he breathes a sigh of relief.
“Fucking finally,” he growls. “Come on, Princess—let’s get back on it.”
But the next forward step we take, the path completely disappears and we’re suddenly in a different part of the forest—a part we passed a few minutes ago. I know because I remember admiring the fan-like purple leaves of a vine climbing up a birch sapling.
“Hey—what happened?” Valen stops short, looking around in disgust and confusion. “Goddess damn this fucking forest! Where is the fucking path?”
“Stop—don’t move. Don’t move your feet at all,” I warn him. I tell him about my experience yesterday and how I heard red-beard back at The Slaughtered Lamb talking about how you have to go back to move forward.
“So we need to walk backwards?” Valen looks down at me incredulously.
“I know it doesn’t make any sense, but it was working for me yesterday when I was trying to get back to the path,” I tell him. “Well…until Old Man Oak showed up.” I feel a cold chill race down my spine at the memory.
He sighs.
“All right—might as well try it. How big of a step should we take?”
“Not very big at all—just kind of shuffle backwards. But first…” I reach for him and take his hand. “So we won’t get separated,” I explain, feeling my cheeks flame when he gives me a quizzical look.
“And here I just thought you liked holding my hand.” He’s teasing—I can tell by the sparkle in his eyes.
My cheeks get even hotter and I try to ignore him.
“On the count of three we’re going to just barely shuffle backwards,” I say, not meeting his eyes. “One…two…three.”
We both take a shuffling step back and suddenly the path is only ten feet away.
“There it is!” Valen’s voice is surprised and excited. “Fuck—it’s like magic.”
“It is magic—the kind that wants you to get lost in the forest,” I remind him. “Come on, we’ll do it again on the count of three.”
This time we take a bigger step and overshoot the path. We have to turn around and shuffle backwards again and then again until finally we land squarely in the middle of the long, dusty road.
“Finally!” Valen runs a hand through his long, black hair. “Fuck—thought we’d never make it.”
“We did, though.” I look down at my soiled dancing slippers—they used to match the silver-green of my dress and eyes but now they’re positively black with forest dirt. “Let’s not leave it again—for any reason,” I say in a low voice.
“Agreed,” Valen says shortly and I’m relieved that he’s apparently not going to remind me that I’m the one who left it in the first place. “Come on, Princess,” he adds. “We have a Sorceress to find.”
And we set off again, with me praying that the stronghold of the Lady of Thornmere isn’t too far away.
41
VALEN
We reach the stronghold after a long and dusty journey. The trees are even thicker in this part of Thornmere—crowding around the path like evil old men shuffling closer and closer.
I try to ignore the sense of dread I feel but fuck—it’s getting so close in here. Several times I think about Shifting and flying ahead to see how much further…but there’s just not room. I’m afraid my Drake’s wings would get entangled in the branches that seem to reach for us like skeletal fingers. So I hold back and keep walking.
At last, our patience is rewarded. The path takes a sharp turn to the right, and we suddenly find ourselves standing in front of a massive wall of thorns.
Not a hedge. Not a simple bramble. This thing is alive. It pulses faintly—dark green vines coiling and twitching like a nest of serpents. Razor-sharp thorns as long as my hand jut out in every direction—some tipped with black, as if dipped in poison. The wall rises at least twenty feet into the air and stretches so far left and right I can’t see where it ends. It appears to run far into the forest—which nixes any thought of trying to go around.