The hamadryad seemed to be considering its answer, watching her with hard, green-brown eyes. Finally it said,We told you not to leave the mountains.
So it had been a punishment.
Maylie bit back an angry retort. It would make no difference and would likely only offend. Instead, she asked,Why have you decided to show yourself to me now? Why have you been calling me?
The creature flexed its long, thin fingers.You should have come sooner.
Maylie sighed. She had forgotten the evasive speech of the Hidden People. She climbed back to her feet and brushed down her cloak.
The hamadryad inclined its head and a mane of sprout-like coils brushed its cheeks.A change is coming.
Maylie felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. She had assumed the unsettled feeling plaguing her recently was due to the impending Maiden Sacrifice, which always made her uneasy, but perhaps there was something else.
What is going to happen?she asked, though she knew it was too direct a question.What have you seen?She stepped forward and raised her hand, as if to grab hold of the hamadryad, but she managed to stop herself.
You lost a child. And you’ll lose another.
Panic surged. Maylie’s heartbeat roared in her ears. Involuntarily she touched her lower stomach.Which child?
But the hamadryad was beginning to fade into the surrounding forest, its outline becoming thin and undefined.You should have come sooner. You cannot stop it now.
Wait! Which child?
A change is coming.
In her desperation, Maylie slipped into Galasquese. ‘Stop!’ she cried. ‘You must tell me. You must explain!’
But the hamadryad had gone.
Alinore
SHE LOOKED OVERher shoulder at the city of Tormale. A dark hump on the horizon with the forked, frosted tips of the mountains looming behind. The last time she had seen it from this distance – maybe even standing in this very spot – she had been twelve winters old, riding beside her father, not realizing she was heading towards her future home. Not realizing that everything was about to change for ever.
Alinore’s horse tugged at the reins and lowered its head to sniff a tuft of grass. She had purchased the black gelding this afternoon and ridden it away from the horse-dealer as the coppery evening light faded from the streets of Tormale’s Old Quarter. It was a good horse; she had chosen well. Stocky enough to carry her the distance she needed to cover and yet with a strong form that elevated it above a simple farm animal. As she had handed over the flecks, Alinore had thought how impressed Prince Ottone would be with her purchase. He took a keen interest in the horses bred and stabled at Syonno Castle. But as soon as the thought had bubbled up,Alinore had firmly pushed it away, ignoring a throb of pain from deep in her chest. It did not matter what Prince Ottone thought. Not any more.
‘I’ll call you Flint,’ she said, peering around to look at the horse’s soft, dark face.
Flint had been the name of her father’s favourite warhorse.
A cart rumbled past on the road, its driver half-asleep.
‘Good evening, Mister,’ he grunted, catching sight of her.
Alinore nodded.
She was wearing a clean new shirt and a pair of breeches pinched from Syonno Castle’s washroom. She had some notion that she would travel from Calestra to Lord Lassiaro’s home in central Galasque disguised as a man and then reveal herself after besting his most accomplished knight. It would all be very dramatic. Like something from a play or ballad. Astounded by her skills, Lord Lassiaro would offer her a squireship on the spot. When she thought about it for too long, the exact details of this plan grew hazy. But she reminded herself that shewasgoing to be a lady knight. The first in the Kingdoms of Galasque for many winters. She was determined. And she held on to this, repeating it like an oath.
Ahead, the road split in three directions. She knew from consulting one of the musty maps in the castle’s library that she must take the central path, travelling down through the Calestran countryside for a day or so until she reached the kingdom’s border. Then it would be two further days’ riding through Ferente until she crossed the northern border of Galasque. Lord Lassiaro lived in the southeast of that region, just half a day’s travel from her old home, and Alinore hoped to also stop by the villa that had once belonged to her father. Part of her even wondered if, in time, she might be able to win it back. It was the sort of romantic wish that she didnot admit aloud. She had mentioned it once to Cressyda when they were younger and her friend had looked back at her with such pity that the memory still made Alinore cringe.
Cressyda.
It would probably be some time before the Princess heard that Alinore had gone. She would not discover it for herself – someone would tell her – but who or when, Alinore did not know. Cressyda would surely be shocked to hear of her vanishing. And maybe a little hurt.
‘I told her I would leave,’ Alinore muttered, swallowing down a jab of guilt. ‘She should have believed me.’
Another wagon rolled past, wheels creaking.
The roads were quiet now with darkness descending. Alinore needed to find an inn to stop for the night. She must be on her way.
