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The Treacherous Road

Anya

A faint whinny reached my ears as I crept deeper into the woods. The fog remained heavy, clouding around my shoulders. As much as I wanted to stretch my magic back toward Oderin, investigate the reason the horses were roused, I resisted. Best to keep my ears focused on what lay ahead. Best to use my magic to muffle the noises of my own movements.

Anxiety was a cold hand on my throat as I crept on.

The path was narrow but oddly clear, well-trod but without obvious tracks. The gnarled arms of the trees formed a tunnel of sorts, a dense tangle above my head that blotted out the noonday sun. Undergrowth cast odd shadows. Fog twirled in eddies. This was a still place. A haunted place.

Fear nipped at my heels, urging me to move faster—to run —but I refused to heed its goading. Fear was not far from panic, and panic, I knew, would do me no good in here.

I kept my steps silenced and my power alert to my surroundings—but to quell the fear, I touched my mother’s pin again, and the necklace against my sternum, using the items to focus my mind on Waldron. To remember why I was here.

Wicker’s wiry fur. Hattie’s laugh. The scent of the Possum: malt, woodsmoke, linen. Dipping my toes in the Wend’s cool waters in summertime. Dancing around bonfires at winter festivals; hanging baubles on our bedposts for luck on the night of Astrophel. Sheep bleating from the eastern hills.

As time went on, the forest gradually dimmed with twilight.

Martha’s gossip. Hugh’s compliments. Avoiding Farmer Quinn’s son, Francis, at market. Goslings floating on the river in spring. Red and gold poplars, oaks, and maples in autumn. The taste of sweet buns. Vera’s birthday bouquets.

With the darkening light, fond memories led me to less-fond places. The mold in the Possum’s storeroom, the pine out back that needed felling, the chimney I insisted on cleaning myself. Such remembrances brought up an unexpected desperation in me—one that squeezed in my chest. What if they forgot about me? What if they realized they didn’t need me anymore? What if I returned home to find that no one had missed me?

Cruel thoughts , I told myself. Those are cruel, insecure thoughts. Nothing more .

But as I thought back on a childhood spent helping , an adulthood filled to the brim with work for others, I realized the ugliness underneath all those “selfless” acts. Even my mother—the queen of favors—hadn’t overextended herself the way I had in the years after her death.

The labor I did for my neighbors was not borne out of pure helpfulness, no. I wanted to feel needed . Needed, so that they couldn’t leave me the way she had.

Idris hadn’t needed you. He’d cast you away.

That’s different , I argued with myself. That’s not your fault .

The sudden self-compassion made my eyes well with tears, and my steps faltered, coming to a halt. I hadn’t been able to help my mother recover from the grimflu, but by the Fates, I had helped everyone else in town. Everyone but myself.

Helpfulness had given me purpose, but it had also stolen true connection. Idris had been the perfect example of that—someone who didn’t need my help, but had come to enjoy my company, anyhow. At least for a time. He’d left, but he’d left of his own accord—not because I couldn’t help him, but because he believed he couldn’t help me .

For better or worse, his actions had forced me to help myself.

If I died here, at least I’d die doing something for me . Hattie would be so proud.

I wiped the tears from my eyes and started walking again, my footfalls faster—not with fear, but determination. You will not die here , I told myself. You will return to Waldron-on-Wend .

I silently repeated the words in rhythm with my steps. The forest had blackened around the edges, the remaining dusk evident only in the strip of pale gray beyond the trees’ canopy.

You will return to Waldron-on-Wend .

You will return to Waldron-on-Wend .

A series of twigs cracked, drawing my attention.

It was not my boots that made the sound—my movements were still muffled by magic. It was someone—some thing —else. Somewhere behind me.

I swiveled, eyes searching the brush crowding the path’s edges. Oh, how I wished I possessed sight magic right about now. I couldn’t separate shadow from shadow. I couldn’t make out any movement.

I reached for the crossbow at my hip, hands shaking as I fumbled the lever into place and cocked the weapon. I fished a bolt out of the quiver and secured it into place. Taking aim at the gloom from which I’d come, I backed up slowly, continuing down the road.

There was a tree up ahead, shrugged right up against the path. When I reached it, I put its rough bark at my back. My arms shook uncontrollably, the hardware on the crossbow rattling—but the noise was overtaken by the sound of more twigs snapping. It sounded like a small tree crashing through the underbrush.

A thing of nightmares materialized out of the mist. Black bones, shredded muscle, skinless—a carcass come to life.

True terror compressed my windpipe.

The monster in the road did not resemble any animal. It stood on two legs like a human, but its brutalized body was hunched at a broken-looking angle. Crooked as its posture was, it was at least ten feet tall. Its arms were claw-tipped, a fringe of shorter appendages ornamented its sides, and its hind legs were bent with backward knees, like a dog’s. Twisted black antlers crowned its head. Even from thirty feet away, its cloying scent hit the back of my palate, making me gag.

The abomination turned slowly, a wretched grinding echoing through the fog. When it paused, so too did the cracking, and I realized the sound was not twigs underfoot but the monster itself. Small bones and ligaments breaking and reforming. A creature of continuous pain.

Two cloudy white eyes lifted, their otherworldly glow landing on me.

A small whimper escaped my throat. The abomination cocked its head with a quick jerk. Thin lips of sinew spread over its bare jaw, revealing far too many long, needle-like teeth and a leech-like tongue.

The sound of splintering wood started up again as the creature stalked closer. An overwhelming sense of fear had my bladder threatening to release. Motionless under the monster’s menacing white gaze, a small voice in my head told me to run—but I couldn’t get my muscles to listen. I remained immobile.

Twenty feet away.

Fifteen feet away.

Ten feet away.

Confusion coalesced in my mind. I was in plain view, and yet the creature moved not like it was stalking but listening . It paused again and tipped its head further to the side. Vacant eyes narrowed in my direction but didn’t seem to focus on my form.

Could it really not see me?

I scrambled to maintain a hold on my magic, to silence my breathing and shaking and rustling. I hefted the crossbow a little higher, aiming for the exposed ridge of bone between the creature’s eyes—but no matter how hard I tried to keep my arms still, the fear was too great. It shook me.

Without warning, the abomination lunged.

I compressed the trigger of the crossbow, and the bolt flew wide, pinging off a stone somewhere in the underbrush. The monster’s teeth snapped toward my face. I shrieked, dropping to my knees to avoid its deadly bite. Before it lunged again, I magically threw my voice into the underbrush behind the monster, creating an echo that pulsed through the mist. Then I gripped the crossbow with both hands, shielding my head against the creature’s second attack—but the bite didn’t come.

The abomination had taken the bait, darting off into the bushes.

So, it was blind, after all.

I didn’t wait. I scrambled to my feet and ran , shrouding my footsteps with silence so the creature couldn’t hear my escape. I might’ve wished for sight magic earlier, but now, I was almost giddy with appreciation for my ability to warp sound. My magic had just saved my life. I had just saved my life.

With the crossbow still clutched in one hand, I pumped my arms, racing down the path as quickly and silently as I could. I ran and ran and ran , adrenaline coursing through my veins, carrying me much farther than I could’ve gone without it. I ran until my muscles ached. I ran until I heard water. I ran until I reached the bridge.