The Warden

Chapter 49

With Manu rising behind them, dim and dusky, the group led by Charlan, crossed over the Serpent's Tongue River and slipped into the former Animal Kingdom's deep, forgotten shadows. The sovereigns had so graciously signed over this land to Lady Telias, granting her and her fellow wights a sanctuary from those who would wish them harm, both humans and feral wights.

Feral, thought Charlan, nearly laughing. Oh, the lies people will swallow...

Their trust had handed their most dangerous enemy exactly what she wanted. And now, with the Warden and the necessary leverage waiting for him, she would have everything needed to take control of Haimlant completely. First the mages would fall, then the sovereigns, and finally the masses, that great herd, would have her as their tender shepherdess. The thought of all that lifelight made her shiver.

She glanced at Masis. You'll give me everything boy, then I'll toast my victory with your lifelight.

"Are you sure this is the best way?" asked Master Elwith for the fifth time, nearly tripping over a bramble. "You seem to be taking us through the worst of these thorns."

It was true. She had taken them through the worst of them. "This is the best path for us, Master Elwith. You must consider that since I have spies in Charlan's camp, she must have spies in mine. Especially when you consider she's hiding on the land granted us by the treaty."

That had been the same logic she had used to convince them not to involve the king and all their forces. Well, at least Masis and General Biligrim took some persuading. Master Elwith, by virtue of the mesmer, had become all but a yapping dog, trotting at her heels.

The High Mage harrumphed but fell silent.

Before crossing the Serpent's Tongue some trees had begun to appear. Small and spindly, like dried up spinsters, they had dotted about randomly, not constituting a forest but hinting at the possibility of one. As more and more appeared, clustered closer and closer together, the stink of pine pitch, astringent and clean, clogged the air. By the time they crossed the river, they had been in the thick of it, surrounded by pine and oak and maple for some time. The only gaps above them betrayed from time to time the star-studded sky.

This was a forest that had seen no human in centuries. Untamed, untrimmed, unbridled, the plants wove together, leaving little to no room for Charlan and her stragglers. The air too was close, stirring but little. It cloyed with growth and decay and wildness, a moist mixture of moss and earth. Animals too, unchecked by man's interference, scurried about the undergrowth, unafraid of the four that now tried to make their way deeper into the heart of the wood. The night was silent. Occasionally, a wind would stir the treetops, encouraging silence as the eerie shush penetrated into the very ground, shivering through the trees into their roots.

Centuries old, used to instilling fear in those around her, Charlan did not mind the forest. She just eyed it with a healthy suspicion. Eyes always seemed to be on her, not her people—she had insisted they stay far away else they alert Masis to the trap—but the forest itself. Part of the weight was the forest's attention. Ancient and heavy, ponderous and discerning, its consciousness dissected everything that moved within it.

General Biligrim hissed. "Could you please lead us out of these Manu cursed briars?! There has to be a better path than this."

"Fine," said Charlan, feigning concession. "But if we're discovered don't blame me."

"Oh, for Wilo's sake," spat Master Elwith. "Even if the night queen herself comes popping out of the undergrowth like a wailing phantom, I'll claim it's all my doing!" He threw his arms in the air. "We can't have light, so let us at least walk on a decent path."