Page 75

Chapter Nineteen

They rode through the day, only breaking along streams to refill their water supply. The paths through the pine forest ended after an hour of riding uphill, and then they were freely navigating through the cool forest, trees towering above them. But the Easterners clearly planted the pine forest for logging, so it was easy to navigate with the trees separated at regular intervals. Plenty of room for the horses. It was another story when they reached the top of the hill.

The pine plantation gave way to undulating woodland, growing steeper and wilder until it reached the Eastern summits of the High Mountains far in the distance. In the middle of those snowy-capped mountains rose a black jagged monolith: Mt. Aelusien, the Rotted Peak.

The peak was like a guiding star, drawing them closer, demanding to be noticed in the skyline. Far to the east through the forest, smoke swirled from smokestacks toward the sky, towns and villages dotted along the main highway. But no towns were between them and those haunted slopes. The promised stench of rotten death wafted toward them even from a considerable distance, and Remy knew in a few more hours she’d be gagging on the reeking odor.

“That smell is . . .” Remy wrinkled her nose, pulling her tunic up over her face.

“You can smell it already?” Hale mused. Remy didn’t reply. “We’ll break camp for the day at that clearing up ahead. We need to get a fire going before sunset,” he said with an edge of urgency.

“It gets that cold so quickly?” Remy asked. The snowline of the mountains was still high above them and the air still clung to summer’s warmth. But autumn evenings were deceptive, plummeting into a frost.

“The fire is not for the cold—it is for the beasts who roam these woods,” Hale said.

“Beasts?” Remy looked out over the woods: aside from a few songbirds and rabbits she had seen no other creature on their ride. She had heard no tale of these Eastern beasts either.

“The one to worry about is the Eastern mountain lion, tigris galanthicus,” Hale said.

Remy snorted. “We have mountain lions in the West too. They catch livestock sometimes, but they fear magic. We shall be fine.”

“We are not in the West,” Hale said with a hint of annoyance. “Are your mountain lions the size of horses in the West?”

Remy chewed on her lip. It couldn’t be the truth.

“They’re really that big?” she asked.

Hale’s guffaw pushed her forward.

“They say the lions lived on deer and smaller game for centuries, but when the ancient High Mountain fae hid their precious amulet in the mountains here, it drew magic out of the mountain itself. Towns sprang up along the Eastern slope. And the lion’s food became food for the townspeople, and so the lions hunted people too. There are no towns this far inland in our Court now, but the lions still remember what the humans did to their forest . . . and how tasty they were.”

“Great,” Remy grumbled.

“They are nocturnal hunters, using the element of surprise. They don’t like the firelight,” Hale said. Remy looked to the sky, the sun lowering into the tree line. Long shadows were being cast through the forest already.

A mountain lion the size of a horse? She shivered.

“Nearly there.” Hale laughed.

When they reached the clearing, Remy frantically collected firewood while Hale coaxed a spark to life from his piece of flint. They were both practiced in the art of making quick fires. It wasn’t until the flames were blazing high in the sky that they brushed down the horses and set up camp.

Remy had gotten used to this nomadic way of living by now. She knew precisely where each piece of gear was, which pocket carried her rations, and that her bedroll and blanket always sat at the top of the bag and her clothes below to prevent getting wet. Remy had brought some of the clothing that Bri had purchased for her in Ruttmore but most of it she left behind at Morgan’s house in Wynreach. They were fine clothes, and Morgan deserved them more than her. Plus, it was impractical to wear such attire in the middle of the forest, let alone if she had to fight off a horse-sized mountain lion.

Remy pulled out her change of clothes. She turned her back to Hale as she undressed. She had gotten used to changing in front of the others too. Bri had no problem getting buck naked in front of everyone, but Carys had a method of changing that Remy copied. She used her tunic to cover her lower half as she changed her trousers, then turned her back to swap her tunics. Even though Hale turned in an act of modesty, she still sensed his awareness tingling across her naked back.

Remy took her dirty, sweat-crusted clothes and hung them on a branch above them, careful not to step beyond the fire’s light. The horses seemed to know instinctively to keep to the light as they grazed.

Hale unpacked for the night as she changed. She assumed he was taking out provisions for dinner, but when she turned, he had unpacked an array of weapons: daggers, throwing knives, an extra quiver of arrows, and a hand scythe.

“Seriously?” Remy balked. “You think you will need all that?”

The prince still wore his two swords on his hips as well. Remy had only brought her one dagger from Bri and her bow.

“I wanted to be prepared.” Hale shrugged. “Most will be too heavy to haul to the peak, but once we get the amulet, we will head into the Northern Court . . . and we will find no friends there.”

Remy frowned at the display of weapons. Climbing a rancid-smelling mountain was going to be the easy part of this journey, it seemed.

The Eastern Prince had enough food for a few days in his pack, but they ate lean just in case, always preparing for stretching their rations beyond their intended length. The journey had taken its toll on Remy. She was tired and sore from riding and had to climb a mountain in the morning.