Page 3 of Through the Wicked Wood

“You’re almost thirty, Sorin. It’s time to stop with these antics.” I can hear her voice clear as day.

I think the fuck not.

The clinking of the coin on my hip soon fades as the rush of white rapids drowns out all other noise. I stumble to a halt at the edge of the Galdosa River. Clearly not thinking this through, I quickly sift through my options as the stomping of hooves approaches rapidly behind me. Scanning the riverbank on either side, neither way holds promise of escape. To the left leads back to Copenspire. To the right, the riverbank dissipates completely, melting into the raging rapids and will eventually wind back to the sea.

My eyes catch on a boulder several feet down to the right, in the middle of the river. If I jump…

“In the name of King Roman, we command you to halt!”

For fuck’s sake. I let out an annoyed breath, pinching the bridge of my nose before turning to face them. Their horses dance along the tree line. The men’s reddened faces only add to my amusement. I tip my head back and let out a laugh before I take a few steps backward, opening my arms wide, daring them to follow.

“Cease, thief!” the guard I’ve conned yells the moment my boots hit the water. He pulls his bow from his back, readying an arrow. I have seconds, maybe.

Think, Sorin.

I spin on my heel and face the Galdosa River, ignoring his demands. The water rages wildly, the whooshing near deafening and the rippling white makes my stomach churn. But I’ve faced worse than this. Hell, I’m sure I’ll face worse once I’m on the other side. The Ravine of No Mercy awaits, a place I am certain the guards will not follow.

Then again, I’ve been wrong before.

My eyes wander from the water to the ravine across from it. I have seconds to make a decision. The sound of hooves crunching pulls my attention, speeding my thought process.

The trees across from the river are thick enough even the sun fails to break through. But in a flash, I swear I see two flickers of gold looming from between the dense pines. For a moment, my heart lurches, catching on the set of eyes hidden in the trees. It can’t be what I think.

Could it?

I don’t let myself linger much longer before I tighten the rope around my bag of coins and plunge into the water just as an arrow whizzes through the air.

Chapter 2

Elora

My obliviousness earns me a sudden fall backward as I fail to see the next strike coming. Wincing, I land gracelessly on the forest floor, various twigs and rocks biting into my palms.

“I hate sprites,” I mumble before pulling myself up from the ground. Dusting off my breeches, I face the tiny beasts again. Their glowing blue bodies are no larger than my palm, and I’m embarrassed to admit this isn’t the first encounter I've had with them where I’ve left defeated. Though delicate in size, their quick wit and ability to fly has outsmarted me more than once. The buzz of their wings grows more rapid as swarms of them begin to circle where I stand.

It’s not the first time I’ve cursed myself for being the only Enchantress without magick, but it is the first time I start to despise Mother Gaia for it. My mind flashes to my Awakening Ceremony all those years ago, the night I was to be gifted my magick from the Mother. Our one and only deity in Teravie. She provides life to all. Fruitful forests. Plentiful and peaceful seas. And to Enchantresses, she provides pieces of herself, her magick, to ensure Teravie is taken care of in her absence. Disappointment and guilt settle in my gut, replacing the frustration I have with the sprites.

“Fine,” I relent, tossing the meager sack of blackberries in the sprites direction. “You win.”

Again.

Their victory is short lived as they begin fighting each other for the contents of the bag. Food isn’t always so hard to come by in the Trinity Forest, but this late in the summer season has every occupant of the woods desperate to stock up for the colder months. My stomach growls, so I decide before I return to my cabin, I’ll check my fishing trap in the ravine.

Mother above, I could really use a win right now.

My hands drift to my daggers strapped securely on either hip. Still there. The twin blades are my most prized possessions. The hilts are wrapped in a beautiful, rich brown leather, intricate inlays of various leaves and flowers swirl up from the hilt and dance around the blades. Their presence has brought me so much joy in the past and now it just brings pain.

“Cade, I…you’ve outdone yourself. These are magnificent! I couldn’t possibly accept such a gift.”

Shrugging off the sudden memory and the threat of tears that accompany it, I turn toward the direction of the ravine.

To my left the Galdosa River comes into view. The water moves in calculated rhythm, the soft trickle turning to a violent cascade of rapids as it opens up to the Holden Sea. The reflecting sunlight bounces off the rippling water and casts a beautiful glow on the lower canopy of trees, creating a golden hue to the air. Pausing, I take a deep inhale of the crisp forest air, resetting myself after an embarrassing loss.

I could stay in this moment forever, the early morning before most of the woodland animals awake. The peacefulness of dawn encompassed by the sound of tumbling water and the glow of the trees. The incessant caw of a crow interrupts my moment of solitude, dampening the otherwise peaceful walk to the ravine. The same caw which wakes me every morning. Always a moment too early. A scowl spreads over my face as I search the sky and tree branches.

“Damn bird,” I grumble as the black crow comes into view, perching itself on a low-lying branch. As if in response to my hostility, it lets out one last caw before flying off above the treetops, leaving me alone once more.

Usually, I don’t mind being alone. Prefer it, actually. But lately my mind has wandered far too often. Daydreaming of the days before King Roman’s rule. Of my life that once was. Or more so, the life that could’ve been. Even after we fled Valebridge, where all Enchantresses reside amongst the king, my life on the mountain was filled with love and comfort. Cade’s warmth is a ghost upon my skin as his hazel eyes flash in my mind.

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