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The riders kept going without a pause, disappearing deeper into the forest heading in the opposite direction.
Jalissa, Sarya, and Edmund waited for a good fifteen minutes before Sarya used her magic to withdraw the concealing thicket.
“We must be getting close to the border.” Edmund rested his arm over Jalissa’s hand, hunching over the horse’s neck. His voice was rough, his words spoken through clenched teeth.
Sarya nodded. “It should only be a mile or so away.”
Only a mile until safety.
Sarya took the lead again, and Jalissa gripped Edmund as he steered their horse to follow. She rested her forehead against his back and drew in his remnants of strength, even as she poured her strength into him.
The minutes ticked off in the clomping of the horses’ hooves and the beating of Jalissa’s heart in time with Edmund’s.
“Jalissa, look.” Edmund’s voice rumbled in his chest beneath her ear.
She lifted her head, blinking before she could bring the tree-covered mountainside into focus.
Ahead, partway down the side of the ridge they were crossing, a blue glow cut through the ground and illuminated the large, six-foot-tall stone that must have been placed there long ago. This side of the rock had words etched into it, though Jalissa was not close enough to read what it said.
Edmund glanced over his shoulder at her, a smile creasing his tight mouth and easing some of the white look to his face. “Hold on.”
He urged the horse into a trot, and Jalissa leaned into him as the horse scrambled down the mountainside.
Sarya’s sure-footed pony broke into a trot, quickly overtaking, then passing them while the mare gamely kept up in the pony’s wake.
Jalissa held her breath as they approached the blue line in the ground. Then, a tingly feeling washed over her, prickling her scalp like a static charge.
Then they were through, and the blue line was behind them.
Jalissa released a breath, and it came out as a choked sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh. They were in Escarland. They were safe.
Well, safe from Mongavaria, anyway. Edmund was still dying of poison, and they had a long way to go until they reached Aldon and the nearest elf healer.
At the bottom of the ridge, Sarya halted her pony and glanced over her shoulder at them. “Where should we go from here, amir?”
Edmund halted his and Jalissa’s horse as well. He attempted to straighten, but he did not manage to get his shoulders fully straight or unhunch his back. “I think there’s an army outpost south of here. Or if we keep heading west out of the mountains, there should be a town with a rail line.”
“Which one is closer?” Jalissa winced as another, deeper wave of agony flared in her stomach.
Edmund hunched lower over the horse’s neck once again, giving a muffled groan. “Not sure. Not sure if the outpost has a rail line yet or not. It is a small one. And they would probably wire Averett, and I’m not sure we want to risk the news of our escape to get back to Mongavaria just yet. Either way, we will not reach the town or the outpost before nightfall.”
“Then we will head for the town.” Sarya turned the pony in that direction.
Edmund started to also nudge their horse that way, but he fumbled the reins, the leather slipping from his fingers as he groaned.
Agony flared through Jalissa, and she tightened her grip on Edmund’s waist. She reached past him and picked up the reins herself. Thankfully, the horse followed Sarya’s pony without much urging from Jalissa.
As the hours passed, Edmund grew worse. Jalissa held him tight and concentrated on breathing.
By the time they halted in the twilight of evening, Edmund was sweating and shivering, a constant agony flaring from him into Jalissa. When they halted, Jalissa swung down from the horse first, keeping a grip on his hand. He all but fell off the horse, and it took both Sarya and Jalissa to half-drag him to the bedroll that Sarya laid out.
Since Jalissa could not leave Edmund’s side, Sarya was left to set up their camp. Now that they were safely in Escarland, Sarya gathered wood and started a fire. She boiled water from the nearby stream for their drinking water, then set to work creating a soup out of their meager supplies.
Once it was done, she filled a bowl and handed it to Jalissa.
Since she did not dare let go of Edmund’s hand, Jalissa rested the bowl on her lap. She squeezed Edmund’s fingers. “You should try to eat something.”
Edmund curled on his side on his bedroll, his eyes squeezed shut. He gave a slight shake of his head.
