Page 38 of Weaving Winter

Then Karehl knew he was gone and the word had gotten out. “Will he find us?”

“That I cannot say. There’s mist in the way, a shroud of uncertainty.” She froze, then whispered. “There are dangers from all sides, not just the castle. You—” she pointed at me, “are in the most danger. You’re walking a thin ledge with rocks below. One wrong move and you fall. I advise that you go deep into the forest. There’s safety inside the danger, but you must go alone. Anyone who journeys with you faces their own mortality.”

“You can’t go into the heart of Bramble Fel alone,” Fenling said. “I won’t let you. It’s far too dangerous.”

I glanced at Giselda, who shook her head.

“If you go,” the witch said, “you both will fail. You are needed with the rest of your company, Fenling.”

The thought of plunging deep into the forest on my own terrified me. I thought I found my place in life, and now I was facing losing it as quickly as it had arrived. But the look on Giselda’s face was clear. “The spirits have spoken. There may be someone who can go with you…”

“I can go with her,” Sparrow said.

Giselda hesitated, then consulted the ball again. “It will be a dangerous and long road, but I do not see you as crossing Fate’s purpose if you attend her.”

“Then I’m going.” He looked anything but resolute, and I could feel the fear oozing off of him, but I also saw a hunger in his eyes. He wanted to prove himself, he was ready to step into being a man, fully and truly, and to him, that meant protecting others.

I turned to Fenling. “I won’t put you in danger. I trust her, as impetuous as that sounds. The magic in this cottage is so thick it might as well be gravy.”

“Damned Fate. But I, too, feel destiny calling.” Fenling turned to Giselda. “Will we meet again?”

“Your paths are deeply entwined. You, Fenling, must wait here until the sun breaks the sky in three days, then go after your friend. By then, he’ll be in a position to travel with you and your company. After that, you can look for Asajia. You are instruments of the gods. Many lives hinge on the three of you, and your friends—not just those of your company.” She paused, then turned to me. “Get some sleep. The next fortnight will be difficult and frightening. You’ll need all your reserves. Eat hearty, and I will make you trail-bread to take with you. It will sustain you even when all other food has vanished.”

Fenling leaned close as Giselda went to stir the soup. “What do you think’s going on?”

“I don’t know, but from the beginning I knew I had to get out of my village. But she’s right, this is bigger than me. The moment I entered Eleago, I sensed a pent up energy, waiting to explode. Your people are restless. I think Karehl has made costly mistakes, and he won’t be able to avoid accountability. I think your nation is nearing a tipping point, where they won’t be willing to accept his behavior much longer.”

Giselda ladled out lamb soup, then summoned Quen in. He and another of the company carried the cauldron out to the stables, where they finished off the rest. As I ate, I searched my thoughts, trying to figure out if I was making the right move by listening to the witch. Although every ounce of me wanted to rebel, I couldn’t. In my heart of hearts, something told me to obey. I might not understand it, but I decided to follow her advice.

I ate, then Sparrow and I packed so we could leave at dawn.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked him. “I can go alone. I don’t want you hurt.”

“I want to go. It’s time I took my place as a adult, it’s time for me to give back. Giselda helped me more than I can ever say. She’s never steered me wrong. Heart up, Asajia. We’ll make it through this.”

That he could be so calm while so young stilled my fears. If he could trust in the witch’s prophecy, so could I. She had done right by him.

Giselda made up a pallet on the floor near the fireplace for Tonyah, Fenling, and me, and the moment my head hit the pillow, I fell into a deep sleep, so tired that I slept through till Sparrow shook me by the shoulder come dawn.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The world was still dark when we headed out into the world. The snow had stopped again, and the forest was cloaked in a hush of white as the clouds parted, letting the early colors of dawn slide through. I had hugged a tearful goodbye with Fenling, who promised they would find me, and then—after packing our horses with what supplies we could—Sparrow and I aimed southeast, into the depths of Bramble Fel.

“What do you think we’ll find?” he asked.

“I don’t know, but in the morning light, I can sense something waiting for me.” I hesitated, then added, “I’m going to have a hard time keeping my thoughts away from Bran and Fenling, and the rest of the Lorani.”

We rode in silence. I’d said goodbye to Quen, and now I was heading into the wilds with a young man I barely knew. But Giselda had told us to journey this way, and there had to be a reason.

Growing tired of my own thoughts, I finally said, “Tell me, why did you take work at the castle? It can’t be easy or lucrative. Why not stay in the woods, become a hunter or a trapper?”

“I don’t know. Giselda told me it would lead me to my path. So far, all it’s done is get me whipped when I was too slow, yelled at when I was tired, and cheated out of most of my wages. I hoped to make my mark, soon,” Sparrow grumbled. “I suppose I’d rather be here, forging into the forest, than back in those stables.”

“You were beaten?”

“The prince encourages his royal overseers in the use of harsh punishment. Every time the stablemaster beat me, he told me it was good for me, that I’d learn humility from it. All it’s done is teach me how to hate my work. Except for the horses,” he said. “I love working with horses, as long as I’m left alone to do my job.”

He had an easy way with the beasts. His own mount seemed totally receptive to his commands, and they moved as one.

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