Page 4 of The Warlock's Kiss

Adalynn lifted her gaze to follow his gesture. A narrow road, overgrown and unkept, cut through the forest a few hundred feet away. Though it wasn’t easy to tell from here, it looked like little more than a pair of deep ruts with grass and weeds growing in a strip between them.

“It might lead to a cabin or a campground or something,” Danny said.

Pausing, Adalynn placed a hand on the trunk of a nearby tree and caught her breath. She lifted the collar of her shirt and used it to wipe the sweat from her face. After a few moments, she swung her pack down onto the ground and pulled out her road atlas, flipping through its worn pages until she found the area they were in. She nibbled on her lip absently as she traced the lines with a fingertip.

“I think we’re somewhere around here, which means we’re”—she counted off the distance using her fingers and the map scale—“at least twenty-five miles from the nearest town.”

“So this might be our best bet,” Danny said, peering at the map from beside her. He left unspoken what they both knew—Adalynn wasn’t going to make it two more miles, much less twenty-five.

She closed the atlas and returned it to her pack. “We’ll follow it and see where it leads.”

When she bent to pick her bag up, Danny hurried to grab it first, and helped her get it on. She closed her eyes against a sudden wave of dizziness—and the fleeting sting of threatening tears that accompanied it.

Danny was thirteen years old; he was her baby brother.Hewasn’t supposed to be taking care ofher.

“Drink this,” he said, pressing something to her mouth.

Adalynn took the water bottle and drank slowly. Though it helped ease her, it couldn’t cure what ailed her. Once the dizziness had passed, she opened her eyes and held the bottle out to Danny. “You too.”

He drank faster and deeper than she had but didn’t drain the bottle. He knew to limit himself until they found a reliable source to refill their containers.

They continued forward until they reached the edge of the dirt road. Here, the road was level with the rest of the forest floor, but as it continued into the forest to Adalynn’s right, the ground to either side of it rose to leave the path in its own little valley for as far as she could see. To the left, it ran toward the main road, but overgrown weeds and brush cut it off from the shoulder.

Reluctantly, she sent Danny to the main road to check for any signs. Her heart thumped as she watched him creep toward the blacktop. He checked both ways and disappeared down the roadside embankment. Twenty seconds later—damn right she was counting—he reappeared and hurried back to her. The relief she felt in that moment seemed both overblown and wholly justified.

“No signs,” he reported.

“Probably a private road, then…but it looks like it hasn’t been used in a long time.” Adalynn looked to the right again, drew in a slow, steadying breath, and nodded. “Well, let’s see if it leads to anything.”

Once again, they kept off the road they were following. Adalynn found something inherently unsettling about the thought of walking with the ground rising overhead on either side, about being surrounded by bare dirt and exposed roots.

Maybe on some primal level that seemed too much like walking in a grave.

After a little while, the road led up a small incline. When they reached the crest, Adalynn paused; there was something blocking the road up ahead—some kind of gate. She and Danny exchanged a glance and continued forward with a bit of extra caution.

The gate grew clearer as they neared it—it was tall, made of rusted wrought iron, its high spikes and arched structure reminiscent of a bygone, gothic era. It was connected to a stone wall that ran to either side and vanished amidst the trees. The wall looked as old as the gate—parts of it were cracked and crumbling, leaving her to wonder howanyof it was standing.

A length of chain was wrapped through the bars at the center of the gate, secured by a rusting padlock. Danny took hold of the padlock and tugged on it. “It’s locked, but”—he crouched slightly and forced the creaking gates apart, opening a space barely more than a foot wide—“I think we can fit through.”

Adalynn frowned. Though the gate and wall looked like they’d stood here, neglected, for decades, the lock and chain were in somewhat better condition, covered more in dirt than rust. This gate might’ve been sealed for a century for all she knew, but the chain and padlock were newer. She just couldn’t be sure if they’d been here for years or for months.

It was likely that this place had been abandoned long before the Sundering, but they couldn’t afford to assume that. They’d seen and heard signs of other people—living people—even out in these rural areas, and there was always a chance that Adalynn and Danny weren’t the first to stumble across this place. And if the wall was in this condition, could they expect there to be any safe buildings beyond it?

But it was also likely that they wouldn’t find another chance at shelter like this before Adalynn had to stop.

Adalynn stepped up to the gate, took hold of the bars, and leaned forward to peer through. The road continued beyond the wall, curving first to the left and then back to the right. Whatever lay beyond that second bend was blocked from view by a thick, dark copse of pine trees.

She sighed and nibbled absently on her lower lip for a moment. “We can check it out, but you need to stay close, okay?”

“Got it.”

They slipped off their bugout bags, and Danny held the gate open while she squeezed through beneath the chain. The metal groaned and creaked, the chain rattled, and flecks of rust brushed off onto her clothing, but there was just enough of a gap for her to fit.

One of the few benefits of having too little food, I guess.

After he passed her the bags, she held the gate open for him.

Once Danny was through, Adalynn eased the gate closed again. Her muscles ached; even that bit of exertion was almost too much for her right now.

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