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I waste no time in hurrying after her. While Natharius complained about the priestess’s lateness, he seems to be in no hurry as he trails behind us. Perhaps he’s trying to put as much distance as he can between himself and the priestess’s overwhelming aura of light magic.
We select the fastest horses from the temple’s stables, and the stable hands help us prepare our chosen mounts for riding.
Though I’ve only had a few days of riding experience, I’m determined to manage by myself rather than having to ride with the loathsome Void Prince. I suppose I could ask Taria or Caya if I can ride with them, but I don’t want my new allies to think me a burden.
I choose a dappled mare, who appears to be of a mild temperament, and do my best to mount her as gracefully as I can. Natharius watches me, most likely hoping I’ll land on my backside again or crack my head open and die, but by some miracle I don’t fall. I still have a long way to go though, especially when compared to Caya, who slips onto her horse with even more grace than Natharius.
I lead my mare through the stables and out to where the others wait, Zephyr sprawled out behind me and taking up half the saddle. He refuses to budge.
The horse Natharius chooses is a stark difference to mine. The ebony stallion kicked and reared when we arrived, the stable hands struggling to get him under control. Natharius just stood there and glared and now his horse is even more docile than mine. It seems even horses can sense the Void Prince’s murderous aura.
Once we are all mounted and outside the stables, Taria turns to me. “Which road will we be taking out of Esterra City?”
Unsure, I press my lips together. Since I’ve only ventured between the temple and the city square during my time here, I have little idea of the city’s layout.
“The northern one,” Natharius replies.
“North?” Taria asks, her pale brows pinching together in confusion. “Would it not be best to leave the city through the Eastern Gates in order to reach Jektar?”
The demon shakes his head. “Gerazad is in Northern Jektar.”
“Even so,” Caya says, “wouldn’t it be best to follow the Great Road that cuts across Selynis and into Jektar in the east?”
“That is the path Arluin and his necromancers are taking,” I reply. “But it is not the way we will take to reach Gerazad. Not if we wish to arrive there first.”
“Then you intend to travel through the Ghost Woods?” Taria asks.
“We do.”
“The Ghost Woods?” Juron exclaims. “Only fools travel through there, never to be seen again.”
Maybe I am foolish to think we can travel through the Ghost Woods, but what alternative is there? We’re already three days behind Arluin and his necromancers. Unless we take a shortcut through the Ghost Woods, reaching Gerazad first will be impossible.
“It is said that the trees are filled with ravenous spirits,” Juron continues, “all waiting for the opportunity to devour your soul, and that no life dwells there. Only the unliving.”
Even the necromancers chose not to travel through this realm of the dead. I shiver and tell myself it’s the evening breeze and not Juron’s words.
Zephyr huddles into the back of my robes. I wonder if I should ask my faerie dragon again whether he wants to stay here, far away from danger. Out of selfishness, I don’t.
“If we don’t go that way, we’ll never reach Gerazad before Arluin,” I say, clenching my jaw. “Yes, it might be foolish, but we have the Prince of Pride and the First Disciple of Selynis. As well as myself, a mage of Nolderan and the daughter of the Grandmage, and both of yourselves. If anyone can navigate through those woods and come out the other side, then it is us.”
Juron looks unconvinced, however. As does Caya, her fists tightening around her horse’s reins. Juron glances over at Taria. The priestess’s face is a mask of serenity.
“Reyna is right, Juron,” Taria says after a moment. “There is no alternative. Though Selynis and Jektar have never been on particularly friendly terms, it would be wrong for us to allow the orcs to succumb to such a terrible fate. But I understand if you choose not to accompany us on this journey. Your fears are not misplaced.” She turns to face Caya. “I will also understand if you choose the same.”
Caya snorts. “Unlike Juron, I am no coward. I would follow you even into the Abyss itself.”
“I am no coward either,” Juron grinds out, glaring at her. “I do not fear for my own life but yours, Taria. I fear that if we enter such an ungodly place as the Ghost Woods, I’ll be unable to uphold my oath to protect you from all dangers.”
“Juron, you don’t have to come,” Taria says gently. “I promise I will not think less of you for it.”
Juron shakes his head. “If you insist on traveling with the mage and the demon through the Ghost Woods, I also must follow you. I would never abandon you.”
Taria dips her head and grips her reins. “Then let us ride.”
twenty-one
Hoovesclatteracrossthestreet as we ride out of Esterra City. The streets are quiet at this late hour, but the few people around drop to low bows upon seeing Taria’s flowing golden robes and white hair.
