Sunlight filters through in patches at first, but after the first hour, the dusty beams of sun become sparse between old-growth trees with trunks as wide as doorways.
Fungi sprout from their bark like barnacles.
The mushrooms glow in emerald greens and deep golds, with a few sprinkles of indigo blues. I’ve never seen this anywhere else but Artemysia. It’s hauntingly beautiful.
Throg trots up from behind on his spirited bull elk. The Rock Elk, probably the only breed that could carry someone of Throg’s size, thrusts his short antlers in my direction with an aggressive toss of his head.
My own elk pins her ears back and takes a half-hearted nip, but I cluck at her, and she corrects herself before it escalates.
“You know why I follow Delphine?” Throg’s expression is casual, but his tone bleeds with peril behind his easy words.
Because with that sense of smell, you’re basically a giant dog?
It’s a loaded question—a dangerous trap of some sort—so I tread cautiously.
“I don’t question her leadership capabilities or combat skills,” I say coolly.
Throg glances over his shoulder at Delphine as if to check that we’re out of earshot.
“I’m the youngest of seven boys in my family. Seven. All the Throgmorton family titles and roles were taken, so I enlisted. When Elphie and I were kids in the Academy, I was the pimpliest, skinniest one. The older boys called me ugly. Frogmorton, instead of Throgmorton.I got knocked down and beaten up a lot. She’d tell me it didn’t matter what I looked like, that I had good technique and worked hard, and that’s why I would make it further than they ever would. She was right. She doesn’t see ugly, only the beauty in things.”
Throg clears his throat. “But later, I found out that she tracked down every single one of those boys and smacked them down. She made a point of passing me her ration of food at meals so I had extra—and you’ve seen how much she loves to eat. So, what I’m saying is…”
His dark blue eyes narrow. “If you hurt Delphine—because people like her who care are always hurt by people like you who don’t—I will find you. If you’re manipulating her feelings to your advantage, if you break her heart, because she hides a soft heart, it will bemy turnto do the smacking down. And I will break you.” He grins, perhaps relishing the thought of snapping me in half.
A burning sensation erupts in my chest. I’m suddenly aware that I’m tense, holding my breath. Not because I’m afraid of Throg. While he might get a punch in, I can easily best him.
But where he’s right—and what makes my stomach lurch—is that people like mealwayshurt people like her.
“Understood,” I grumble. “Protective big brother speech.”
“Not the first time you’ve been given it? Not surprising.”
“No, it is the first time. But I’ve given it to others before. On Ivy’s behalf…though she’s scarier than any speech I could ever give.”
“Good. I like you. Don’t fuck it up.” In the muted light streaming between the dense branches hovering over us, his big square smile still gleams. “Now, do you think Ivy would consider someone like me to be a suitable match…”
He drones on and on about Ivy, and my mind drifts as I pretend to nod along and mumble in agreement while he chatters away. Funny guy. I admire his loyalty, but Delphine draws that out in people. I’d follow her anywhere too. Dammit, it’s why I’m here. I need to keep her safe. I’ll do anything in my power to see her through this. I’d risk my own life to keep her alive.
And that’s not anything I’ve ever felt before.
I do care, for once. About her.
I want her as much as I want to escape.
But Throg is right. People like me hurt people like her. I wouldn’tbe able to stand it if I did. I won’t risk hurting Delphine. I’ll need to control myself and let go of whatever I’m feeling for her.
I have to let go of her.
Two hours in, and there’s no sign of Syf. I’m doing my job correctly, then.
“Is it just me, or are we shrinking?” Ivy whisper-shouts from behind me. She’s toned down her voice as best as she can, but her eyes are round with wonder. The shadows of the forest bleed into her violet irises, muting them to the color of currants.
The old-growth trees loom taller, thicker, in deeper greens, and the mushrooms grow noticeably larger, as big as an elk’s head. Vivid reds, pinks, turquoise. Their luminescence increases the deeper we go.
In another couple of hours, we’ll reach the caves to spend the night. Either the Syf don’t know about the caves or avoid them. It took us half a day to get to the edge of the woods from Limingfrost, and Syf are more active at night. Hungrier for blood.
My elk stops, stock-still. Her ears swing forward and her nostrils flare as she sniffs the air, agitated. I hum low in my throat to reassure her before she decides to spook and skitter sideways.