Page 71 of Path of the Dark
23
Shadows in the Woods
NINIA MADE HER way out of the encampment, seeking solitude.
A grey dusk settled over the vast Rithmar army. They were in the midst of the highlands, at the end of their first day out from the capital. Pine-clad peaks wreathed in mist surrounded them this evening. The scent of wood smoke filled the valley, and the rumble of male voices punctuated the dusk. Space was limited here in the highlands, so the army had made camp on the highway, its bulk spreading up the foothills either side.
Ninia wandered past soldiers lighting hearths and settling down to a supper of bread, dried meat, cheese, and apples. It was decent fare for camp rations, but later, when the bread grew stale, they would have to make do with twice-baked oatcakes for the rest of the campaign.
Few paid her any attention despite that they all would know who she was. Their focus, and conversation, was on the upcoming battles. First they would take the leaguefort that spanned the Royal Highway on the Rithmar-Thûn border, and then they would march south to Veldoras.
Rithmar would deal Anthor a hammer blow.
Ninia’s skin prickled at such talk. She’d never traveled with an army before. Aggression and excitement charged the air.
Strangely, she found herself enjoying it.
Slipping out of the perimeter, where soldiers were erecting a line of pitch torches, Ninia strode up a slope toward the tree line. A dark wall of conifers towered over her. She stopped a few feet away and fluttered the fingers of her left hand.
Until now, she’d always undertaken her daily training with Ryana at her side. It felt strange to practice alone. One or two of the other enchanters of the Dark had offered to train with her, but Ninia had declined.
She wouldn’t be with the Order for much longer—she needed to start training alone.
The reminder that her new life in Rithmar as an enchanter was coming to an end made Ninia’s chest constrict. Just a few brief months of freedom. How she would miss it.
Ninia let her hand fall to her side as her thoughts turned inward.
She’d been so lonely, locked away in The Swallow Keep. Her parents had been overly protective of her, and when the queen had discovered her daughter’s abilities, she’d been paranoid her husband would learn of them.
Once you’re queen of Thûn, you make the rules. Asher’s words returned to her then. He’d been right, she wasn’t returning to her old life. If anything, the challenges before her were far greater than any she might have faced if she’d remained in Rithmar.
Enough of this. Ninia flexed the fingers of her left hand once more.Ryana would tell you off for letting your thoughts wander during practice.
The Star of Darkness burned in the center of her palm, as it always did when she summoned enchantment. Drawing in a slow breath, Ninia reached out her left hand toward the long shadows that stretched out from under the boughs of the trees before her.
The darkness shifted and moved away from the copse, rippling like dark oil over the ground. Whispering, chattering, the shadows slid toward her, pooling at Ninia’s feet.
She was just about to go through her drills when movement up ahead caught her eye.
Small, dark shapes flitted in and out of the trees. Their excited chatter drifted toward her.
Ninia went still.
Dusk Imps. She hadn’t seen any since leaving The Forest of the Fallen.
And as she watched, one of the imps stopped, its long whip-like tail snapping back and forth like an angry cat’s. Yellow eyes stared at her through the gloaming, unblinking.
Ninia stopped breathing. In the Dim Hold, an entire host of shadow creatures had knelt before her and called her their queen. But that had been months ago. Out here in the wild, they might not even recognize her, or care.
A heartbeat later the Dusk Imp gave a high-pitched yip and bounded forward, following its companions into the shadows.
Returning to the camp, Ninia was introspective. She thought shadow creatures kept well away from folk these days, especially after their defeat in the north.
I must alert Asher to their presence.
Making her way into the center of the encampment, she headed to where the Order had pitched their tents for the night. The rumble of men’s voices surrounded her, and like earlier she caught snatches of conversation.
“Anthor won’t know what hit them.”
