A Kind of Magic

Six

Their progress across the Black Forest became slower the deeper they ventured under the cover of the age-old trees. The ribbon of a path they had followed in soon dwindled into a barely visible thread, disappearing for long stretches under the shrivelled mummies of leaves fallen many autumns ago, so fragile that they crumbled to dust seconds before their horses' hooves actually touched them, branches broken either by strong winds or heavy snowfalls, their still alive moss cover glowing eerily in the penumbra cast by their previous owners, and even huge, collapsed trunks which Shadow jumped without difficulty, but the other horses had to walk around.

"Is there no other way, dragon?" Leodhais demanded after he had to take a detour around the second fallen trunk which obstructed their path.

"Not that I know of," Peregrine replied, loosening Shadow's reins again. The poor horse who knew the trail well enough to gallop all the way to the standing stones was even more impatient than his rider by the frequent forced stops.

"But there must be," Leodhais insisted, ducking at the last moment to avoid a branch growing too low, which Gilderoy, riding in front of him, passed under without difficulty. "This one's impossible. It will take us forever and a day to ride through this forest, and then we still have two provinces to cross before we reach Goon Brenn and its ring of stones!"

"Well, why don't you dispatch a patrol to look after the forest and clear this path once you become our king? It's something that would benefit everyone. In the meantime, save your breath, elf, you might ride faster if you stop talking."

Leodhais, already used to the dragon shifter's lack of manners, only frowned in response and urged his horse to walk closer behind Gilderoy's. He would never admit it, but the ancient, allegedly magical forest was starting to creep him out even more than the ghost moor had. He had been quite excited to meet its inhabitants until Peregrine had said that, for whatever reason, the centaurs, werewolves, vampires and those members of the wizarding folk who deal in darker branches of magic than Emrys, weren't the king's most ardent followers. Now, he just kept looking over his shoulders at hearing each alien noise that the forest produced. 

Feeling observed, Leodhais pulled the hood of his cloak up, determined to follow Peregrine's example and ignore all the strange sounds, reaching them from mysterious sources hidden invisibly somewhere behind the trees. He didn't complain when the dragon didn't stop for lunch, but he was just about to start as they reached a little round clearing and the first glimpse of the sky he got since the morning confirmed his suspicion that the night had begun to fall, the knowledge crushing him with the feeling of hunger and exhaustion which he had been ignoring the entire day. However, before Leodhais could open his mouth, a wolf as large as Gilderoy's pony crept from under the trees lining the path that wound sharply to the left to skirt the clearing, blocking their way.

Peregrine's horse, apparently recognising the beast stopped calmly, but the sight of the formidable predator made Gilderoy and Leodhais' steeds rear up in fear, forcing their riders to cling to their reins for dear life.

The moment Gilderoy pulled himself safely back onto the saddle, his hand buried deep within his horse's mane managing to calm and reassure the frightened animal, he looked for guidance at Peregrine, whom he had started to admire at some point during their travel.

What the dragon shifter did now only made that admiration grow. Without a shadow of fear or surprise the dark-clad man dismounted his horse, sat on his haunches to bring his face level with the grey wolf's black snout and stared in the beast's shiny, yellow eyes without blinking, a silent exchange apparently passing between the two.

"What the..." Leodhais grumbled at his side, and the dwarf put his hand quickly on his friend's leg in a warning before his complaints could disturb the curious conversation.