Chapter Eight: From the Beyond

I know they are there.

Whoever it is has been following us since Fallen Banner, keeping far enough back that the rest of my company has not caught on. Percy has been a bit twitchy, but I have been doing this too long not to notice. I know how my horse snorts when the wind shifts and she catches another’s scent, and how the birds that resettled in the trees after we passed suddenly take flight.

If the ones following us think they can rob us tonight, they are sorely mistaken.

I knew something was going to happen. Or I should have known. Bristle was… pricklier than usual as we rode up to the inn. For one thing, he was breathing. He had spent so much of the ride holding his breath that I was surprised he had not passed out and fallen off several leagues ago. He also barely let up on his pony’s mouth, keeping the reins so tight that the poor thing crept along at the very back of our train. I finally had to yell at him to let up before we took forever to arrive or his pony threw him.

Usually, a company grows closer on the road. We gather around the fire each night, the ice between us thawing over scraps of tough jerky and stale bread. The promise of hot coffee, tea, or, better yet, ale draws us together at each stop along the way. We trade jokes and share stories. There is something about the long road that makes it hard not to open up.

Or so I thought.

I do not know who to blame. Roger? Beatrice? Or is this all my fault, really? I am the one who forced Percy and Bristle to come with me. And Stranger, who tagged along with them, has proved erratic, with little clear value.

The road improved after we left the inn. The desolation between Saudade and the Exemplary Ruins gave way to the thick woods I had called home for a decade. The very woods Percy had worried did not exist.

The trees towered above us, their branches clasping over the path as we rode beneath them and blocked out the brightening sun. It was mid-spring, partway through Greenglen, if I was not mistaken, and the woods welcomed me back. But they always remember. Every place in Elyndora has its own magic, but the Wilds have the longest memory. It is said the forest remembers everyone who has walked among its trees, and I believe it.

The letter tucked into my pocket weighs against my heart. It is a missive I received at the inn—secreted into my palm by the hostess—from a fellow Warden who is stationed at the palace.

 Marceau,

He is not well. He locks himself away when he is not in meetings with his advisors. I correct myself: one advisor. I do not know the man’s name, only that there are whispers at court that he is a wizard. Intelligence from the border has dried up, and the nobles are restless. Several have departed for their fiefdoms. A contingent leaves today for Silverwake. Deals for steel and timber have been struck, and I hear that food stores are being shored up.

They expect war, and I pray they are wrong. We are not ready. He is not ready.

Deon

I have known Deon since my first tour as a junior warden. We trained together, the only two to pass the final test that year. It was particularly hard. He would never lie to me. He says nothing he does not mean.

“Clem,” a voice broke through my thoughts. “Do you sense what I do?” I lifted my hand from my left chest pocket, where I had placed it over the note.

Percy rode up beside me, their donkey struggling to keep pace with my horse. I glanced over my shoulder to see if Stranger or Bristle were listening, but they were a few leagues back.

I nodded once, and our eyes met in a sidelong stare.

“Whoever they are, they have been with us since Fallen Banner,” I said softly. “Do you still have your blade on you?”

They nodded. Their hand dropped to their hip, where I noticed they wore their holster once more. The blade’s handle was visible.

“Care to flush them out?”

They nodded and jerked their head back toward the rest of our company. “What are you going to tell them?”

I looked back. Stranger was staring right at me while Bristle watched the back of his pony’s head. At least he was not glowing right now.

He likely knows already.

Stranger spoke in riddles, though they were not nonsensical. He knew Bristle would be cursed. He spoke of winds from the north. I felt those too. And he always tensed before something happened.

“Nothing. Care to hang back? See if you can flush them out? We can stop up ahead for a break and get this over with.”

Percy was itching to do something. They had been twitchy for the last half hour. Scratch that, the last few days. The quiet life did not suit them.

I studied Percy’s face. Their hair had grown long, constantly falling into their eyes and forcing them to push it out of the way whenever the breeze picked up. They had grown more comfortable on the donkey. The two seemed to have reached a quiet agreement, since they had stopped arguing. Likely because Percy kept sneaking them bits of dried fruit.

“Mhmm.” They mumbled. Pulling up. “You go on. I’m going to cut through the woods and try to get around back.”

#

Once Percy disappeared down a side path, I signaled for our company to halt in a small clearing beneath the trees.

“We will rest here.” Bristle eyed me, then pointedly glanced toward the path Percy had taken.

“You are not going to tell us where the thief went?” he added. “I thought you did not want to let any of us out of your sight.”

He was not wrong, but Percy was the only other person in our party who appeared able to fight if needed. I had also offered to hold on to Percy’s saddlebags, which I knew held the journal they kept close at all times. They had frowned but eventually handed the bags over, then kicked their mule off the Pilgrim’s Road and onto a narrow dirt path, just wide enough for a donkey and a slight thief. The fact that the best our company could manage was a thief riding an ass was telling.

“They needed to run an errand.” I dismounted and tied Misty, my now constant riding companion, to a knot on the nearest tree. “They will be back in time for supper.” I was grateful I was not the one cursed to glow when I lied.

The look on Bristle’s face told me he thought the same. He harrumphed and dismounted, then took the reins of Stranger’s horse while Stranger climbed down.

“Easy, Stranger. We are done for the night.”

Stranger looked between Bristle and me.

“We do not walk alone,” he added, then knelt to gather sticks for a fire. I wanted to press him. Had he sensed it too? Instead, I joined in with the camp preparations, my sword still at my hip.

I sat around the fire with my other two companions, eating dried meat, my foot tapping as I waited for the thief to return. No one spoke. We only listened to the rustle of the woods.

Percy fell out of the woods. I do not know how else to describe it. The darkness opened and dumped Percy into our circle, their donkey close behind. Their eyes were wide with fear. They looked bedraggled. One cheek was smeared with dirt and marked by what looked like a branch cut, and the fabric at their shoulder was torn.

“I lost him.” They huffed, bent over with their hands on their knees. “It was a man. He had a large weapon on his back and a fucking bird!” They swiped at the mark on their cheek. It had not come from a branch after all.

“Did he say anything?” I stood and crossed to Percy, gently taking them by the shoulders. They appeared whole, just angry. “Why are they following us?”

They shook their head.

Bristle had stood to retrieve the donkey and secure it beside his pony. He twisted around. “Someone’s following us?” he squealed.

Stranger remained seated, chewing on the end of his jerky. He only nodded.

“Did everyone know but me?”

I shrugged but kept my focus on Percy. “Speak, thief.”

“No, warden.” They gasped. “Water first.”

I handed them my flask. They took a swig and nearly spat it out. “That is not water.”

“No, but I thought it might be welcome.”

Percy took another sip and passed it back. “I lost them. When the bird chased me, I could not follow. The man and his horse disappeared.”

I tapped my fingers against the end of my blade.

“Maybe we are mistaken.” Bristle, now clued in, stood with the others, forming a three-pointed circle. “They might be traveling north on other business.”

I knew that was not the case. If they were, they would have overtaken us long before.

“We will see what the morning brings.” That was all I said. “In the meantime, we can plan to have someone on watch tonight.”

Percy nodded and reached for my flask, but I pulled it away.

“No more,” I scolded them in jest.

“Stranger, it is probably best if...” My words died as I turned and saw that Stranger was not alone. A man sat beside him on the log, a bird perched on his shoulder. A small chestnut mare stood among the trees behind them.

“How the fuck did you get here?” Percy shifted in front of me, which I found endearing since I had the larger weapon, and scowled. “Who are you?”

“She knows,” the man said, pointing at me as Stranger handed him a piece of jerky.

“Thank you, sir.”

Stranger turned to him. “You are welcome, Captain.”

Stunned, I staggered back. “I thought you were dead,” I whispered. “I saw you go over the edge.” My throat tightened, panic and relief filling my chest in equal measure. “You died!” I nearly screamed. “And how the hell do you know he is a Captain?” I demanded of Stranger.

Bristle had come to stand at my other side, gently taking my elbow. “Breathe, Clemence,” he soothed. “You are panicking.”

I was. My mind swirled, and it felt as though the stars were falling toward me.

He is dead. But here he is.

“Can someone tell us what the fuck is going on?” Percy burst in.

“He is Jornigan, Clemence’s former Captain, who went missing ten years ago.” Of everyone around the fire, Stranger was the one who spoke. “And he brought a friend.”

Jornigan opened his coat. My hand went to my blade, but I stopped as a small bird flew straight into my face, chirping as it nestled in my hair.

“Ember?” I whispered. “How?”

The bird chirped in reply and alighted on my outstretched palm. A tiny wren. My wren.

“She found me,” Jornigan said, still watching Percy, who held a blade aloft. “She led me here.”

I snuggled the bird close. My familiar.

“I saw you both die,” I whispered. “What happened?”

Percy had not heard me. They pointed to a tall brown case leaning against a nearby rock. “What weapon do you have there?”

Jornigan frowned and glanced at the case. “Weapon? Silly thief. Have you never seen a guitar?” He smiled, revealing a few gaps between his teeth. “I am a bard now, and I am here to tell you that you are walking into a trap.”