Page 47 of Through the Wicked Wood

“Please, Jarek.” Sam doesn’t bother to lift her head from the table as she grumbles in his direction. “Can you find it in yourself for once not to be so damn joyful in the morning?” Her voice is hoarse and craggy, I press my palms to my mouth to cover my smile. Maybe the third round of drinks was a bit much after all. “At least not before I’ve had any coffee,” she groans.

“Sorry, my queen,” he laughs. “Just eager to hear from the happy couple is all.” Jarek shoots me a wink, downing the rest of his drink. The chipped ivory mug looks comical in his large hands, as if it were meant for a child. Jerking up off the table, Sam tucks her tight black curls behind her ears, a few pieces springing freely around her face. A hint of a blush scatters across her cheeks.

“Well now, that is interesting,” she muses. Tilting her head to the side, she swipes Galen’s coffee from the table without so much as looking in his direction. Opening his mouth in a retort she cuts him off. “Trust me”—she holds a hand up in his direction—“I need it more than you.” To my surprise, Galen doesn’t balk, rather, smiles and shakes his head before returning his focus to his book. After taking a deep sip, she peers over my shoulder toward the bar, cupping the mug with either palm.

“So,” she says, raising her eyebrows in question, redirecting her gaze to me. “Did you two—” Galen’s elbow bumps her arm, causing the hot liquid to spill over the cup and onto the table.

“Hey!” Sam shoots him a snarled look, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from smiling.

“Manners, Samaria,” Galen says in his usual monotonous tone, picking his book back up. Before burying his nose in it, he glances at me briefly giving the slightest dip of his chin. Warmth spreads over me at the subtle gesture, and I will be sure to thank him later. Maybe we can be friends after all.

With stomachs full of oats and the last of the seasonal berries, we head on our way. Checking in at the stables, I’m riddled with guilt as I venture toward Amis’ stall. I want so badly to take her with us, but I know Sorin and Galen are right about keeping low to the ground as we get closer to Kirsgard.

Running my hand down Amis’s velvety nose, I lean in and kiss it quickly. She nuzzles my hand as if she knows what I have brought with me. Tilting her head up and down several times, she coaxes a laugh out of me as I sneak the small handful of blackberries from my cloak pocket. “We’ll be back,” I whisper before rejoining the group.

Each of us carries a pack with various supplies that the barkeep provided to Sorin this morning. Explains the ample schillings he paid him last night, I suppose. Mine holds my ration of bread and jam, cured meats from Loxley, and a canteen of water.

Sorin’s bow and quiver are strapped to his back, the black arrows glinting brightly under the morning sun. Jarek wields two axes strapped with a leather harness, the tips of the metal engraved in various swirls and markings I don’t recognize but admire anyway. Samaria has a similar bow to Sorin's; only hers isn’t black.

Her ivory bow is beautiful and appears to be feather light as she flips it around a few times before securing it. It’s only then I realize Galen bears no weapons, at least none that I can easily see. Three rolls of canvas are secured on his back in a row, along with a pack of his own slung over his shoulder. I pat my hips out of habit, ensuring my daggers are in place, hoping I won’t need them.

“We’ll make our way through the outer edge of the forest,” Sorin says, readjusting the straps on my pack, helping tighten them. “Karos Falls is about a day’s hike from here. We’ll camp there for the night. The closer we get to Kirsgard, the more subtle we’ll need to be, just in case. Galen and I think it’s best to utilize the falls as a natural noise barrier,” Sorin explains before turning to Galen.

“This part of the Trinity Forest holds many creatures that will not be thrilled with our presence,” Galen says. A vague memory of Sam telling us Galen studied magick under an esteemed scholar raises the hair on the back of my neck. I’ve had my fair share of run-ins with forest sprites, but my palms sweat with the idea that other creatures may be watching us. Not to mention hunters of magick, though they’ll be disappointed to know I bear none. My mind snags on the last time I stepped foot upon Kirsgard. The swarms of hunters. The blood and chains and screams.

“Tomorrow,” Sorin interrupts my thoughts, “we’ll leave at first light to make it to the Wicked Wood before nightfall.” The four of us nod in understanding, though my stomach churns with unease. I risk a glance at Sam, but her face is turned away from me, peering at the horses lined in the stables.

“Ready?” Jarek’s hand lands on my shoulder, making my stomach tense further. Clearing my throat, I nod and fall in line next to Sam as we head toward the edge of town. I shake my hands out at my sides, clenching and unclenching my fists, trying to regain my focus on the tasks at hand. Make it through The Wicked Woods. Lead us to the Awakening Stones. Perform the Ceremony and help Samaria gain her magick. Then show Sorin how to get into Valebridge.

Easy enough.

Fool.

Chapter 25

Elora

The walk through the forest this morning feels like a homecoming. The melodic song of a lonely bird follows us with every step. The pine trees bend with the weight of the needles. Their heavy limbs dipping low into our path. Bowing. Leading the way. I’ve missed the woods. The sounds, the smells. During our night in town and my stay in Loxley, part of me felt incomplete. While I can certainly appreciate the warmth of the baths and a proper bed, the woods have earned their way into my soul. I cannot be me without them. The moment we step back into the trees, an itch of magick thrums against my palms. I flex my hands quickly and close my eyes. Hope spears through me for a moment, but as always, nothing manifests.

“You are the magick, susi.” My mother's voice rings through my ears. The same phrase she’d said to me throughout my childhood. I trudge forward, keeping my pace with Sam, focusing on my steps and not the disappointment that washes over me that I’m useless. Over a fallen log, around a bush of thorny vines. Anything to keep my mind clear, anything to keep it from drifting toward memories of her.

Sorin, Jarek, and Galen lead us through an overgrown path of brambles. Thick, leafy branches that are riddled with ivy, I’m certain they’re the poisonous kind, so I pay extra attention to each step, tugging my cloak tightly around myself to avoid exposing too much skin.

Sam and I keep close together near the back of the pack. The farther we venture north, the more changes I notice from the area of woods I called home all those years. The trees are more densely sprouted, leaving very little visibility ahead of us. Jutting toward the sky, it’s almost impossible to see the tops, and while the trees back at my cabin are enormous in width, they would be dwarfed next to these. Easily five times larger around than my arms could wrap, the ancient sentinels demand respect as we delicately tiptoe through their home.

“I didn’t mean to be presumptuous this morning.” Sam breaks our comfortable silence once the boys have gained some distance in front of us. “I’m sorry if I offended you,” she admits, casting me a sorrowful glance. Worry displays across her face as her brows pinch together.

“Please, Sam,” I say with a shrug. “Haven’t we gone over this? You could never offend me.” My smile is genuine as I wrap an arm around her shoulder. “Besides,” I continue, “you weren’t totally far off assuming something may have happened last night.” Whipping her head toward me, her worried brows are now sprung up near her hairline. The sudden change in demeanor is too much, and I can’t help but tip my head back in laughter.

“Do tell more, Enchantress.” Her voice is teasing as we duck around a fallen tree, taking our time catching up with the boys.

“Just a kiss,” I speak through the smile on my face though the confession causes my cheeks to flush. I’ll blame it on the heat if I must.

“Oh, I’m sure it was more than that.” Sam laughs. “I wish I could show you the grin you have plastered on your face.” I should’ve known she’d see through my vagueness.

“It was really just a kiss.” I attempt to convince her again, which only makes her laugh harder. Our laughter catches the attention of the boys for a moment, the three of them stopping to turn. Sorin cocks his head to the side, his smile bright even from this distance.

Wiping the grin off my face, I smooth my features back into their typically neutral demeanor. I’m not entirely sure why I feel embarrassed admitting my kiss with Sorin, it’s not like he’s the first man I’ve been with.

---