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I gulped, not knowing how much Syrra had guessed. This was not the place for that conversation. “I had the elixirs. They’ve kept the tremors and sweats at bay though I will need to resupply once we’re back.”
Syrra gave a tight nod. “I will gather them myself.” She went to one of the tables and pulled a small bottle of wine from one of the baskets. She brought it over and handed it to me. “There are hammocks through the woods there. It will be a few hours before everyone is fed and rested for the trip home.”
I stared down at the bottle. It felt wrong to take it from her of all people, but Syrra wrapped my hands around it. “You cannot overcome it without sleep.” She rubbed my arms gently. “But if you are ready to try, just say the word and we can get things sorted when we return.”
I nodded and left her to take a few hours of undisturbed sleep in the hammocks. The wine had barely filled my belly before the need for rest overtook me.
Gerarda came and woke me hours later. She shook my shoulder until my eyes slowly opened. “We’re ready,” she whispered.
I grabbed her arm as she turned to leave. “I’m glad you didn’t lose what you thought you had.” I nodded in the direction of Elaran’s booming laugh.
Gerarda’s lip twitched to the side. “If only all my losses could be false ones.” She bowed her head and didn’t say another word. I pulled on my boots and fixed my braid before heading down the trail myself.
Nikolai was helping Myrrah onto a manual lift that he’d designed for her chair. She slowly rose until the lift was level with the carriage and she could take her place at the reins.
“I have designs for a saddle if it interests you.” Nikolai gave Myrrah his most charming smile.
She shook her head. “I’m sure it’s lovely, but an old sailor can only learn so many new tricks at a time. Let’s get to wherever we’re headed first.”
Nikolai grinned and I could tell he was taken with the gruff Halfling. He raised a brow. “Would you like some company for the journey?”
Myrrah patted the bench next to her and Nikolai hopped on. I nodded to them as I walked by and Fyrel grabbed my arm. “I’m riding in the front with you.” She stood tall but her voice shook.
I chuckled. “Are you?”
Fyrel gave a resounding nod. “Gerarda told me that you haven’t an apprentice. I would like to claim the role … if those exist here.” She glanced at the towering trees as if a dark creature was going to jump out of the wood.
“This forest is rather safe. It’s the trees that talk back that you need to be worried about.”
Fyrel tensed. “Theytalk?” she mouthed silently.
“An apprentice of mine can’t be fearful of trees,” I teased.
Fyrel straightened her back once more. “I’m not fearful. Not at all. I can handle some whispering trees.”
Gerarda dropped down from a large branch and landed gracefully on one of the carts. “And what about the ones that eat passersby?”
Fyrel gulped. “If Keera will face them, then so shall I.”
I tilted my head up at Gerarda and laughed.
“It wasn’t meant to be funny.” Fyrel’s shoulders drooped.
I grabbed a bow and quiver from the cart and passed it to her. “You just remind us of someone. You’ll get to know her soon enough.” I glanced down the line at Vrail who was in the middle of a long-winded story about the wood with her own quiver slung across her back. “I can trust you to keep watch along the front of the caravan?”
Fyrel’s smile was wide and toothy. “Yes, Mistress.”
“Keera,” I said quickly. “There are no titles here.”
It was dusk by the time we reached the outskirts of Myrelinth. Syrra led us down the trail that followed the lake. When we turned at the portal the entire caravan gasped up at the Burning Mountains. The suns had just lowered beyond their peaks, so the leaves of the Elder birch along the ridge looked like molten gold.
I dismounted my horse and walked backward so I could take in the faces of wonder as the Shades looked at the city before them. Fyrel dismounted her ride beside me and she stepped over the small hill with eyes wider than I had ever seen.
The entire city was decorated in beautiful artwork that spanned down each grove. Long banners embroidered by talents that didn’t exist in the kingdom. They depicted stories of renowned hunters and magic wielders, even warriors who had studied at the Order when it was calledNiikir’na.
Some young girls pointed at the circle flame along the tree trunks, cobalt and scarlet burning without wood or air in their own magical orb as they always had. Others pointed up at the treetops where young children were waving and laughing at the group below.
Feron stood in front of the Myram tree and lifted his hands. The faelights seemed to awaken from their slumber, floating out of the branches and leaves below and lighting the darkening sky.
