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I hadn’t thought of that. “Maybe.”
The healer and I browbeat Ativan into staying put while I poked around Cashore. I went to the bakery and bought scones Ativan favored as a peace offering. I spoke to Deven, who informed me they had a patrol going to the Wildwood forest border and were more than happy to escort me that far. But they would be leaving within the next hour, so I needed to get my shit together, say my goodbyes to Ativan, and get my ass going.
Unsurprisingly, it took convincing, but after trying to get up twice only for the pain to be overwhelming, Ativan conceded. The healer was a formidable woman, which helped. I think Ativan was just a little scared of her. Ativan was into his fifth decade and didn’t bounce back as he used to, which sobered me. He had always seemed invincible. Going without him would be dangerous, but I had to do it. At least the Wildwood border was only a day’s ride, and the guard said from the Wildwood border to Demora was only another two-day ride. Soon I would be in the Demora castle handing my weapons to the Count.
I couldn’t be happier to put all of this behind me. Lamen’s death would weigh heavily on me for the rest of my life, but I needed to push it down to complete this expedition. When I returned, if Ativan wasn’t ready to ride, at least we were welcome to stay in Cashore until he was, and that would push back my deal with my mother.
The chattering guards made the ride to Winterwood fly. The men were pleasant and intelligent—more so than the stories I’d heard of the north men, but I rarely reveled in the truth ofstories.Perhaps I shouldn’t have, but I felt at peace with the guardsmen. After the brigand attack and Lamen’s death, I felt safe with Deven and the five patrolmen. They did a wood patrol every few weeks to keep apprised of travelers and the conditions of the wood border. Cashore was a large town with a steady population of wealthy folk, so protection was essential to them, especially when only a day’s ride from Winterwood, where the creatures that attacked lived.
We rode at a nice steady pace and came upon their border post by nightfall, where they generously offered me my own room. I assisted in the kitchen, receiving rolls and dried meat for my journey from the cook. The outpost was jovially loud and welcoming. The men let me join in with dice games. I was not the best player, but the men took it easy on me. The outpost had a crude fireplace that blazed warmly and gave the common room a companionable warmth and glow. Unfortunately, there was a chill to the air in the north—a bite that permeated my thick layers.
The stories of the Winterwood the guardsmen told were eerie, not to mention the surge in attacks on neighboring villages, hence the increased patrol. There were also curious legends and stories surrounding Neverwood, which I had rooted out. Like the White Stag fabled to grant wishes. He didn’t. He was just a grumpy old deer with a snow-white coat that had traveled to the Neverwood from the Winterwood and remained because of its milder climate. His coat was only white because he was from the mountains.
I prided myself on not taking too much stock in stories, but as I looked out the window to the Winterwood beyond the building, I swear I saw flickering lights. I swallowed and quickly returned to the game at hand.
Despite the boisterous noises from the guardsmen late into the night and the lumpy cot, I was well-rested and ready to go at dawn. I saddled Tavere and checked the weapons before any guards even stirred.
Deven saw me off. “Make sure you stick to the road. Do not veer into the Winterwood for any reason.”
“I won’t. Thank you for your kindness.”
He tipped his head, but his dark brown eyes were tense. “Things are going on in these woods. Heed my warnings, and be careful, my lady. All stories riddle with the truth.”
I inhaled and nodded. I had little choice but to continue my journey.
Hours of travel went by uneventfully, and Iro’s company made the daunting journey enjoyable.
“There is something dark in the wood that doesn’t seem to disturb the birds or cause chaos in the forest, only the outlying villages.”
“What do you think it is?”
“Wolves from the Underworld. All legends are fraught with truth, and hounds of the Underworld are commonly associated with this kind of disturbance. Why they are here, I’m unsure. Usually, it’s a disruption in the land’s magic—an imbalance in power. A powerful supernatural being sends out hounds to hunt someone or something specific. In this case, they’re just causing chaos and unnecessary death, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t an underlying reason for what’s happening.”
“That still sounds ominous.”
“The hounds of the Underworld are a bad omen. Especially if they are left unchecked, whatever the magic wants them to do may already be done, but the wolves are now just running rampant without being summoned back. That’s when things can get worse.”
It sounded like this would be an issue for a while.
“How do you know so much, Iro?”
“I know some things.”
“You are a magical being, aren’t you? Since I can’t hear what other animals say, only an intuition of what they want, it must mean you are magical.
“I am. As are you.”
Sometimes I forgot I had magic because it wasn’t a tangible thing I could call on. I had no magic besides what I could infuse in blades for others. I could feel the magic in my infused weapons, but my touch didn’t trigger their magical properties when I wielded them.
“Why can’t I use my magicked weapons if I have magic?”
“It is ancient, powerful magic that you possess, Autumn. It is stronger than you realize, but you’ve only tapped into a minuscule portion of what you can do. You cannot make a blade for yourself to wield with magic as a balance of power. You could be invincible. So, the magic within you has set limits. If someone had a weapontheyhad infused, you could use it to its full potential, but magic like yours is said only to be in the dwarves.”
“Then how didIgain it?”
“You will someday understand.”
I groaned. Sometimes this bird was not helpful at all, but Iro had answered that what I possessedwasmagic. I’m not sure why I hadn’t asked him about it before, but often I just talked to him like he was a friend and didn’t ask him specific questions. I had gotten better at understanding that he could say some things freely, but other things he couldn’t. He was a mystery, but I loved him.
