Page 78 of A Legacy of the Light

I smile at him as we turn the horses and head down the edge of the lake.

The path that had led down from the courtyard continues here, evening out so I don’t have to worry so much about Mabel getting hurt. The mountain soars high to our right, so close that if I reached out I could touch it, and the waters of the lake lap gently to our left.

We don’t push the horses too hard, keeping them at a gentle amble.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask.

“This path leads round the entire loch. It would take us a full day to clear just one side of it, so we won’t go that far. There’s a place I want to show you that’s an hour or two’s ride from here, depending how quickly we go. I’ve packed us lunch.” He pats the bag on his saddle.

“A picnic?”

Tavish nods.

“Now who’s being sweet?”

“I’m just smart enough to know a hungry woman is an angry woman.”

I tip my head back and laugh. “Clever man.”

We ride in silence for the next half hour. The path gets too narrow for the horses to walk side by side, so Tavish pulls ahead.

Mabel follows Atlas without much guidance from me, and I take in the view to my left. As I’m led further away from the palace, the outer edges of the city become visible. It looks amazing from this spot, the modernity of the buildings blending so well with the nature surrounding it on all sides. Birds dive toward the lake, searching for fish, and winds rustle through the trees.

I pull my gaze back ahead of me as the mountain gives way to a forest of evergreens.

The path leads away from the lake and into the forest, transporting us into an entirely different world; the one I imagined when Granny would tell me the stories of her childhood. Of the fair folk who dwelled deep in the forests of the highlands and would only show themselves to those who were worthy.

The trees rise high around us, the lowest branches at least ten feet above where I’m sat on Mabel. Moss grows thick between the trunks of each tree and encroaches on the pathway. Smaller berry bushes, now bare of any fruit, line the stone and are scattered in bigger gaps between the trees.

The sound of the wind is muted and the noise of the birds high in the canopy join the clap of hooves on the stone.

The smell that envelops me reminds me of Tavish. Earthy and woodsy, and a calling to the wilderness in me. The woodlands soothe a part of my soul I didn’t even know was hurting, like being away from home too long.

Noticing my stare, Tavish murmurs, “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I whisper, not wanting to disturb the tranquility.

“This is part of the Davoch, the wild lands we leave untouched. It’s considered sacred to some.”

“I can see why. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Briefly, the sun appears from behind the clouds, filtering down through the leaves of the trees. It changes the forest, making the greens seem greener and deepening the color of the bark. Shadows are cast across the mossy floor and the forest comes alive, as though it’s taking a breath under its warmth and basking in it.

The path flows through the forest naturally, as if it’s always been there. Whoever forged it wanted it to follow the movement of nature. We come to a fork in the road and Tavish takes the one to the left, back toward the lake, now visible again through the dense trees. Mabel follows obediently. I haven’t had to direct her much at all, as if she knew I needed to focus on taking in what’s around me.

“Who put the path here?” I ask. “If it’s sacred, why would someone build that?”

“It might be considered sacred but we still need to navigate it from time to time. The path was built to help make sure we only use that route. This forest might be beautiful but it can be deadly if you get lost in it. There are things here better left undisturbed.”

“Please don’t ruin this place with scary stories. I’m going to pretend it’s an enchanted forest full of gentle creatures.”

“Whatever works for you, Elsie.” Tavish shakes his head next to me.

We end up along the very edge of the forest, the path skirting around it. Tavish guides Atlas onto the sandy banks of the lake, which stretch along the coast for a few miles. We’ve been riding for about an hour by this point and Tavish dismounts and leads his horse by the reins to the water’s edge. I follow suit and Mabel lowers her head to take a drink.

“Just as well you can mount your horse. I don’t think I could have brought that stool out here with us,” Tavish comments.

“Let’s see if you’re still in a teasing mood when you’ve lost to me.”