Page 7 of Through the Wicked Wood

“Are you all right?” I ask, hating how my voice waivers.

He glances towards me as he cups the back of his head again. His dark brown hair is sopping wet and stuck out in various places from being whipped through the water. His brows match his hair in color as they furrow in my direction, creating a deep crease between them.

“Well, considering I just got my arse handed to me by the Galdosa, I’d say I’m in decent shape.” His voice is low and rough but there’s a softness to it I can’t quite explain. The thief’s dark brown eyes remain focused in my direction, and it’s only now I realize what I must look like. Hair disheveled, the blood of someone else staining my hands and face.

“The contusion on your head, do you want me to take a look?” I ask, wiping the last bit of dampness from my cheeks, itching to head toward the river and wash myself. My instinct is to flee but my mother’s voice snags in my mind.

“You are an Enchantress, Elora. No matter what magick the Mother gifts you, it’s your duty to serve and protect the lives of those who reside in Teravie. That is the way it has always been. It is the way it will always be.”

“Are you all right?” He avoids my question with a question of his own, startling me out of my memory. “I’d say it was a close call for the both of us. What are you doing this deep in the woods anyway? A damsel like yourself—”

“I can assure you, I’m no damsel.” The words are a bite as they leave my lips, but I feel no remorse for my tone. I should be used to men questioning the strength of women by now, but my cheeks heat despite it. “And yes, I’m all right.” I lie through my teeth and push myself off the ground, dusting off the sandy bits of rock from my breeches.

“I didn’t mean to insult you, love,” the man says. “I just meant I’ve never ran into anyone else out here, least of all a woman traveling alone.” He peels off his jacket and balls it up, pressing it against the back of his head, wincing as he does. My gaze narrows. If he would just let me take a look at his wound, I could help ease his pain.

His jaw tenses before he throws his jacket to the ground and frantically searches the contents of the bag on his hip. He lets out a long breath as he pulls a single card from his bag, kissing it before placing it back and cinching the bag shut. I avert my eyes as he starts peeling off his shirt. Making my way to the water's edge to wash the blood from my hands and face, I bite down on the inside of my cheek, gnawing at the flesh to distract myself from the bloodied guard I must step around to get to the river. Grateful the wind has carried his quickly decaying scent downstream and away from us. Drops of water hit the pebbled shore behind me as the thief wrings his shirt.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” I mumble, quiet enough it’s barely audible.

“And for what do I owe a thanks?” I bite my tongue at his response, trying desperately to hold back from snapping at the smugness in his tone. In his defense, he was unconscious for the events that just transpired, but my patience is running thin. Would Mother Gaia really care if I didn’t help this fool?

“Forget it,” I say, wiping my washed hands on the front of my breeches. “For whatever reason, the Mother decided to spare you your life this morning, you should really be thanking Her.” Swinging to face him, I suddenly miss the familiar weight of my daggers. As to not draw attention to myself, I scan the ground for my weapons, hoping he won’t notice my missing blades and take it upon himself to find them first.

With a puzzled look, he gives his shirt a final wring before sliding it back over his head.

“Have we met before?” he asks. Ignoring his question, my eyes spot my blades near the tree line where I encountered the wolf. I set forth in their direction without another word to the man.

“Wait!” he shouts from behind me, but I don’t stop. “I don’t even know your name.” I’m too focused on my blades to turn and look. “I have to at least know the name of the woman who can ward off the wolves of the woods,” he shouts again.

My boots make an unsavory chewing noise against the rocks as I slam to a stop. “You were awake?” I ask, keeping my back toward him.

“Yes,” he says through a soft chuckle. “Woke up right as the giant beast landed its teeth in that poor bloke’s leg.” The rocks crunch under his boots as he moves toward me. “Decided it’d be better to play dead than try and take on a predator of his size, and yet, there you were,” he continues, his body now parallel with mine, “unarmed and vulnerable, left completely unscathed. Fascinating.”

Shifting my eyes, I meet his gaze, the cold from the river pours off him in icy invisible waves, as he takes another step closer. He cups his head again and glances down at me. Squaring my shoulders, I turn to face him head on.

“I guess you’re not the only one the Mother was looking after today,” I reply, matching his arrogance with my tone. His dark eyes are just as skeptical as they are curious. His gaze lingers over every inch of me, and in a show of pride, I don’t turn away despite the heavy scrutiny I’m beginning to feel. It’s strange to have him look at me that way. Slowly, curiously. A way no one has looked at me in years.

The demons in my head resurface, reminding me that despite the penance I place on myself daily for my family’s death, it will never be enough. My heart lurches as the ache grows throughout my chest. Blurred memories of that night assault my mind as darkness begins to cloud my vision. Inhaling a forced breath, I push past the images rising and rising, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat.

“There isn’t anywhere within walking distance of here aside from Copenspire,” I manage to say, clenching my fists at my sides. “And considering today’s events, you’re probably not welcome there.” Grabbing my daggers from the ground, I return them to their sheaths at my hips. “The temperature drops drastically in the woods once the sun sets,” I continue, “and that wound on your head…” My skin prickles with the feeling of being watched, glancing back at the thief, his hardened stare is relentless as our eyes meet.

“What?” I snap, placing my hands on the hilts of my daggers.

“Sorry.” He shrugs, his mouth turning up at the sides. “I swear I’ve seen that scowl before.”

Shaking my head, I continue, “Anyway, I thought you might need a place to stay until your garments are dry, and whether you think it’s an issue or not, that wound on the back of your head isn’t going to heal itself.” My words are short, and to the point, but the inside of my cheek is becoming sore from the constant chewing. An anxious habit I can’t break. Surely, the Mother will be pleased with my final attempt to help this…thief. The man says nothing, his gaze holds on mine, and I begin to regret the offer. I don’t even know this man and having him come back to my cabin, the only place I’ve been able to stay safe, is reckless.

Nodding his head slowly, the worried look switches back to the smugness I imagine he wears often. “Okay, then,” he says. “I’ll take you up on your offer. It appears you’ll be saving me yet again.” With a wink, he extends his hand toward me. “I’m Sorin.” Keeping his hand hanging in the air, my eyes catch on the swirling black ink that crawls up his forearm. I’ve never seen skin marked permanently before. Unusual.

I hesitate a moment longer before reaching my hand to meet his. His hand is freezing from the river, skin pruned from being submerged, yet despite his cold touch, a bolt of heat stings through my palm.

“Elora,” I finally say as I catch my breath and release his hand. Dropping mine back to the hilt of my dagger, I grip it tightly, ignoring the way my skin has warmed from his touch. Breaking our gaze, I quickly scan the area. A swarm of flies already feasting on the bodies of the men makes my stomach lurch. If the man knows what I am—an Enchantress—he doesn’t let on. Keeping my eyes masked, I reach down to grab my cloak before starting for the woods. With a final glance back, I smile, leaving nature to take its course on what’s left of the guards.

Chapter 5

Elora

The walk back to my cabin drags longer than the month-long journey it took to get here from Kirsgard Mountain. Not only am I making this trek with a complete stranger, but now with the wolves potentially lurking around every corner, my senses are heightened. I suppose I always knew they were there, but this is the first time I haven’t been able to hide from them and it has me on edge. So, I take my time, leading Sorin through a winding route, over and under fallen logs, around the other side of the ravine and back, keeping my steps light and eyes alert.

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