Page 68 of The Shadowed Oracle
No matter what angle Ingrid viewed her companions from, she couldn’t see anything but a barely noticeable ripple in theair. Any further from the few feet she stood from them, they’d be entirely undetectable, just like Dean had said.
Before it took full effect, Dean called out to her, “I’m taking your shoulder now, don’t be startled.”
She couldn’t get a word out before she felt the strength of his grip on her. Then she followed suit, reaching out and finding Tyla’s rugged armor.
Standing at the front now, Raidinn sounded off a warning. “Alright boys and gals. Let’s march.”
Within the first few hours of their trek, there had been disturbances. A small group of soldiers on horseback riding at full speed in the opposite direction, and a pack of Ungii on the hunt had sped by a few times, either scenting them, or some other poor creature in the area.
Ingrid managed to keep moving silently, and she hadn’t sensed any unease from Dean ahead of her. He only gripped her shoulder gently, comforting her when the moment called for it.
They walked on, passing plants that glowed in the dark with neon brilliance, small huts constructed from loose bark and vines, more sentient, limb-like flowers, birds the size of dogs perched on high branches, squirrel-sized creatures with flowing white fur and ears so tall and thin she mistook them for antennae at first glance.
Nothing in the forest is as it seems.
She kept Raidinn’s warning at the forefront of her mind.
As they approached a clearing, the trees finally thinning, she wondered if they were in Banebrook, and smiled at the thought of Dean alerting her, at the prospect of hearing his voice. The silence was getting to her. He promised he’d tell her when they’dreached the far more Viator-populated, and therefore much more dangerous leg of their day’s trek. Though nothing was said.
There was only the persistently strong grip of his hand on her shoulder.
Deathly silent, they stepped carefully past a line of trees that constituted the end of the heavy brush. Ingrid hadn’t a clue how many hours had passed. The only indication was when the Spectis Weed started to wear off and Dean warned her with a set of three squeezes on her shoulder, instead of the usual one. They all stopped in unison after Ingrid passed the message along, and they took another dose of the magic plant.
Trudging along, walking until their feet pulsed.
On and on and on.
And on.
Her body became an instrument. One foot after the other, robotically moving in unison with the others. Her perched arm had lost feeling, blood draining as it held its position atop Tyla’s shoulder, and she no longer processed the images in front of her, darkness and exhaustion dimming her sight and her interest. There would be no sleep, not that night. Ingrid knew this before the journey began and she made no argument.
One foot after the other.
Left, right.
Left, right.
Then—another squeeze of Dean’s hand, communicating something.
Her first impulse was to snap her head around, searching for some small battalion that had somehow tracked them. It was all she could think of since they’d made it out of the forest.War.The vast Hydorian army was stationed all over the west, and the four of them were right in the middle of it.
She peered around, keeping stride until something bumped into her.
Or, she thought, maybeshe’dbumped into something.
Ingrid froze, realizing for the first time all day she was no longer moving. Her hand was no longer on Tyla’s shoulder. Instead, the crook of her elbow was dangling over it. No one was speaking. No one moved. The thump of her heart was the only thing filling Ingrid’s ears for a long moment. Thump, thump, thump.
THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.
It grew louder and louder until the noise was unmistakable.
It wasn’t just her heartbeat.
Hooves—she was hearing hooves.
A galloping beast in the distance, drawing closer. Once the animal was in range, Ingrid noted the man riding atop. He was large, broad and armored, but he was dwarfed by the sheer size of his mount. The horse appeared to be the same as those found on Earth, but the one glaring difference made Ingrid pause at the thought of calling it anything but “giant.”
It was easily seven feet tall, with bulging flanks and an easy, powerful gallop. It closed the gap quickly, and the rider became more visible. He was classically attractive, Ingrid thought, just like Dean, Raidinn, Tyla, and even Sylan. Viator all seemed to have the same predatory sharpness, softened by their colorful eyes and symmetrical, delicate visages. And this man was no different.
