Three hours after dawn Xith and Vilmos entered Vangar Forest. Almost immediately Vilmos felt the crawl of unseen eyes upon him, but he did not really start to worry until the sun disappeared, blocked out by the forest canopy.
Despite ever thickening undergrowth, Xith maintained a steady pace, trying to stay directed north. At times it seemed as if the forest had a will of its own. Sprawling rows of brambles seemed to close any gaps as they approached, and the two would have to travel either west or east until they finally chanced upon a break. Sometimes this distance was only a hundred yards. More than once it seemed as if the brambles had stretched on for miles.
"Stay close," Xith advised for the second time.
"I still don't understand why we didn't use the road the soldiers cut through the forest," complained Vilmos. "Surely it went directly north."
"Silence," commanded Xith.
Vilmos turned as the shaman had and saw movement out of the corner of his eye. His heart started pounding in his ears and a lump swelled up in his throat.
"Run," shouted Xith, pushing Vilmos. "No matter what happens do not look back. Do you understand?"
Vilmos said nothing. Xith twisted him around and stared into his eyes. "Do you understand?"
Vilmos nodded.
The two ran in a flat out race. Trees became black blurs. They no longer turned at brambles; instead they plowed through them. Xith pushed Vilmos ever forward.
Cuts and scrapes on his hands, face, and arms and bruises on his knees, Vilmos ran on. He ran as fast as he could.
Every now and again he saw black shapes out of the corner of his eye that he was sure were not trees. It was only when he heard the first tormented howl that he became certain he was running for his very life.
Soon the tormented cries of the unknown beasts came from many directions, then gradually the howls grew closer and closer. Xith pushed Vilmos faster and faster, surprising the boy with his seemingly endless endurance.
Nervously, Vilmos glanced to his left and to the rear. His feet lead him to the right—there were no cries coming from the right.
Suddenly Xith stopped and Vilmos only heard the sound of his own running. He stopped, turned around, ran back to where the Shaman stood. His eyes grew wide with terror and his heart pounded so loudly in his ears that he couldn't hear what the shaman was saying. He only knew the shaman was staring into the shadows.
"They are leading us," Xith said, "do not let your feet stray."
The two started running again. Terror helped Vilmos find his second wind and soon he was outpacing Xith.
Coming down a ravine, Vilmos stumbled and fell. Xith picked him up by the scruff of his collar and lead him on. They breached a hill, crossed a stream, ran on in soggy boots; on and on they raced.
Vilmos was running to the pace of his heart, which was still pounding in his ears. He stretched his small body to its limits, again surprised at the shaman's seemingly boundless stamina. More than once he doubled over in pain and fought to catch his breath, and more than once the shaman forced him into movement. Sometimes dragging him by the arm or the collar. Sometimes pushing him. Sometimes just his wild stare was enough to force Vilmos to find his next wind.
Suddenly they burst into a clearing. A midday sun shining overhead told Vilmos they were safe, they were out of the dark forest. A sigh of relief escaped his lips.
Just as Vilmos paused to catch his breath, Xith directed his gaze to the other side of the clearing. The forest stretched on endlessly, the trunks of trees fading into the gloomy shadows.
Vilmos tried desperately to catch his breath. "Can we rest, please?"
"Not long," cautioned Xith, "those beasts aren't far behind us."
"What are they?" Vilmos asked.
"Some things are best left unnamed. To be sure, their masters are the reason the animals of the forest are angry." Xith's eyes darted to the shadows. "Run now, run as if your life depends on it, because it does."
"I need… more rest," said Vilmos, panting, "can you not use your magic on them?"
"For every one I could send back to the pits where they spawned, two more would come. No, we run." Xith pushed Vilmos forcefully with both hands, launching him into a mad dash for freedom.
Long after Adrina had bedded down the previous night Captain Brodst and the others had been in Duke Ispeth's tent. What they had talked about during those many hours Adrina didn't know, she only knew her hopes of talking to Keeper Martin had faded hour by hour.
"Emel," called out Adrina, flagging him down with her hands as he rode past. She attempted to make conversation with him as she had tried earlier. Again, he cut her off and rode on ahead. It didn't seem intentional, though, because he seemed worried about something. She thought it possibly related to the conversation the captain had had with the sergeant before they broke camp. She hadn't been able to discern their whispers, but the conversation had seemed rather one-sided with Emel doing most of the listening.
Aggravated she wrapped the reins tight in her hands and spurred her mare on. "Oh no you don't, Emel Brodstson!" she screamed after him.
Emel reined Ebony in and wheeled about to face Adrina. He didn't say a word. He didn't need to. His stare was angry and cold.
"Did I do something?" asked Adrina near tears. "Or does this have something to do with what happened yesterday?"
"It has nothing to do with what happened yesterday and everything to do with what happened yesterday."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Emel cast a glum stare toward the rear of the column. Adrina could only guess that it was directed at the captain.
"I am sorry, Adrina," Emel said, turning away and chiding Ebony into movement, "I tried, I really did."
Adrina kicked her mare faster and faster, racing alongside Emel's Ebony. "Slow down, talk to me."
Emel's reply was curt, "My group has forward position throughout the morning."
"You don't have to protect me at all times. I saw you relieve the central guard again last night. You can't keep standing watch all night and riding all day. You'll drop out of the saddle."
"The Duchy of Ispeth is not all sweet-smelling orchards you know. At one time this was swamp as far as the eye could see. That is, before Ispeth River and its tributaries dried up, or so it is said. The farther south you go, the wetter the climate becomes. In a few days, you'll reach the swamps and if you are lucky the company will skirt them, if you're not you'll take the Kingdom road through them.
"Since you have to keep pace with the column, it'll take you a week to skirt the swamp, or at the very least three days by the King's road. Ebony and I cut through the Bottoms once. There are things in there without names, but they'll try to take you just the same. They don't call it the bottom of the world for nothing.
"Fog rolls in so thick by mid-afternoon that you can't see your hand in front of your face. I dropped my torch, my torch, and nearly lost it. It was the longest twelve hours alone of my life. I nearly lost my wits. It's a good thing Ebony was with me. Just before sunrise we went in, and an hour past sunset we came out."
A proud smile came to Adrina's lips. "I am not afraid," she said, "I have Emel Brodstson to guard me."
Emel's next words were drowned out by the sounds of the column.
Adrina shrugged.
"I am to go south with the detachment to Quashan'," Emel said, in a soft voice. Afterward he spurred Ebony on and didn't look back.
Adrina returned to her place in the column, the elite guardsmen tightening their circle around her. A dull pain in the pit of her stomach told her of emotions she sought to hold in. No tears ran down her cheeks though several times she fought them back as they welled up in her eyes. Emel was the only one who shared her secret. What would she do without him?
Anger and disillusionment found her. Hadn't the lady in the forest said Emel was now a part of that secret? Didn't that mean he should remain with her at least until they decided what to do? They hadn't decided anything, except to talk to Keeper Martin, which they hadn't been able to do.
She listened to the clatter-clatter of hooves and heels for a long time afterward. Only the far off angry calls of birds from amidst the apple orchards aroused her to the world. Apple pickers were chasing the birds from the trees.
As she turned to watch a flock of black birds rise from the trees, Adrina caught sight of Keeper Martin and Father Jacob coming from the rear of the column. Suddenly resolved to talk to the keeper, she slowed her mare and allowed them to overtake her. Determination in her eye, she said, "Beautiful day, Keeper Martin, Father Jacob. We will reach the crossroads in a few hours. Keeper, what news of the dream message?"
Gray-haired Martin grinned sheepishly. "I did not hold to my word did I, Young Highness. I am truly sorry. Duke Ispeth is both persistent and long winded. He would have rambled on and on through the night if Captain Brodst hadn't put an end to it when he did. And yes, Keeper Q'yer's message arrived."
Adrina flashed her eyes at the keeper. Well? They asked.
"Indeed," Martin said, tugging on his unkempt beard and turning to Father Jacob.
Jacob who had been nibbling on an apple, cast the core away. Adrina caught sight of the great swirling white circles that decorated the sleeves of his otherwise black robe. The circles that had once been bright white were now dull and dirty, coated with the dust of the road.
"I have given it much thought," said the priest, pausing to sigh. "You are right. I can sense it too. It is all around us."
"Then you have considered what we discussed?" asked Keeper Martin.
"I have, but I do not think this is the right time to discuss this."
"Indeed," said Martin, scratching at his beard again.
Adrina didn't say a word. She hoped the two would forget she was even there.
"Please forgive us, dear," said Martin turning to her. "Our thoughts are on other things at the moment. Perhaps it would be best if we talked later."
"Then you will be continuing with us?"
The Lore Keeper turned to Father Jacob then said, "Yes, I believe I will."
Vilmos stumbled, fell, came up on his feet again. For a moment in his confusion he thought Xith wasn't with him anymore, but then he caught a glimpse of the shaman's brown robe. Exhausted, Vilmos no longer ran. He simply plodded along, forcing himself to put one foot in front of the other.
Time progressed slowly. Most of the tormented howls faded to distant echoes and now it seemed only one of the strange beasts followed them. Vilmos heard its high-pitched howl sound off to his left.
By now they had gone so far and so deep into the forest and strayed off course so many times that Vilmos thought surely even the shaman had lost his way long ago. The beasts were leading them, forcing them to take an increasingly easterly course.
Vilmos could no longer determine shapes in the shadows. Everything was shadows and dull grays slowly turned black. Night was surely near.
The touch of a hand to his shoulder caused Vilmos to start. He jumped and nearly screamed. Xith whispered in a low voice, "Tie this rope around your waist. It will keep us from being separated."
Vilmos took the offered rope and began tying it about his waist.
"Follow where I lead you," said Xith. "Keep your hands out in front of your face protectively."
Vilmos finished securing the rope. He caught sight of a soft glow from the shaman's eyes. They were glistening silver once more. "Do your eyes allow you to see in the dark?"
Xith grinned. "It is the gift of Oread to her people."
Vilmos stretched his sore muscles, and eased the fire away from aching legs, then finally asked the question that had been bothering him for what seemed hours. "Are we lost?"
"The sense of direction of the peoples of Under-Earth is keen. Do not worry. Soon we will leave the Forest of Vangar and all of this will be behind us for a time." Xith said nothing more, except that they should begin moving again.
For an instant Vilmos saw thin streaks of fire lighting a night sky, then he blinked and he was back under the raven folds of Vangar's canopy. Vilmos stood and hurried after Xith, following the tug of the rope at his waist.