“Honestly dear, you surely know as well as I do that she could hardly have made it all the way to the river from any of the settlements on her own. That’s at least four or five days of travel for an experienced forester. She’d have collapsed from thirst!”

Aldo’s response was quiet, barely a warm whisper. “Of course. Someone left her out there to die, there’s no other explanation I can imagine.”

“Really, what a sorry child. She sounds older than she looks too, but it’s hard to tell when she’s barely skin and bones.”

“She hasn’t eaten much either, and the way she stares at us when she thinks we aren’t looking. Like she’s done something wrong and is afraid of what we'd do if we found out.”

“Dragons’ corpses dear, I wish we could do more for her. But with nothing to identify her and no resident to vouch for her…”

“I know. I’m afraid the guards won’t let her into the city. I don’t know how to tell her, she’s been through so much already.”

“In that case, we’ll just have to do our absolute best to plead her case to them. Surely they’ll feel some pity for the girl.”

...

“I’m really all right, thank you. I promise!” Idelle felt slightly sick at the idea of eating another bowl of Mirabel’s porridge, but the woman was undeterred by her protests.

“Are you sure, darling? You’ve hardly eaten anything really!”

“I’m sure. Isn’t feeding a hungry person too much at once bad, anyway?”

“Well… That is true, we’ll leave the rest for dinner later.”

Idelle flashed a genuine if slightly awkward smile at her. Mirabel’s fussiness might have been smothering normally, but with how long she’d been alone, even having the woman try to push things on her left a warm feeling in her chest.

“That’ll be great. Really, thank you for everything.”

“Well, of course, it’s nothing really. If anything it’s my pleasure to have a young girl like you around.” Mirabel returned her smile with a wistful grin of her own.

“You two don’t have any children or anything?” 

Mirabel glanced at her. “What, do I look so old that they would be anywhere else but here?”

“No, no, not at all!” Idelle backpedaled, slightly regretting her attempt to move the conversation away from herself. “You just have… a motherly air to you, I guess?”

Mirabel let out a chortling laugh at her expression. “I’m just teasing you, dear. I’m still quite young. Aldo and I were waiting until we had a few years of experience traveling before having children; we’d heard it can be dangerous sometimes, you see, going so far as we do. We thought we should get a feel for it first.”

Idelle nodded eagerly before prodding further. “Were?”

“Yes, yes, we’re both ready these days but well…” Mirabel shrugged. “You know how it is, these things can take a little time. Still, we’ve been through the Perien Forest a dozen times by now and it doesn’t get more dangerous than this, so when a child comes we’ll be more ready than ever to keep them safe!”

Idelle wasn’t quite sure that she did know, but the gaps in her memory flitted in the back of her thoughts and she nodded knowingly along with the woman before her next query. 

“Is this really the most dangerous place in the kingdom? It doesn’t seem that bad to me.”

Mirabel’s let out another, longer laugh. “In the KINGDOM? Dear me, dear me no, not at all! There’s plenty of places in this land of ours that I doubt humans could even take a single step into without finding themselves there forever. Places only the demons might dare. 

No, this is only the most dangerous of the roads that are considered safe for civilians you see. The king’s men bring magical lures every time they pass through the forest and kill any mutated beasts within a few dozen kilometers of the road, and the others learn to stay away. But a few who have recently changed will occasionally stray close before they’re hunted, and they’re a terror indeed for people like us. Didn’t your parents ever warn you?”

Idelle twisted awkwardly away from Mirabel’s gaze. The quizzical pause stretched into seconds and her mind spun before she awkwardly blurted, “It’s… complicated.”

“I see.” To Idelle’s relief, the woman moved on without pressing the issue. “Well, in any case, you’d do well to stay right on this path if you ever pass this way again. I’ve already said how lucky you were, coming that far up the river safely, but it bears repeating. The ordinary wolves and bears can be dangerous enough, but they don’t attack people without provocation or sickness forcing them. But any that have been touched by magic…” 

She made a dramatic lunging motion with her hands. “Boom! They’ll go for you just like that! They could tear you in half like a piece of moldy parchment!”

Idelle coughed and fixed her eyes out the back of the wagon, on the road that curved off into the trees behind them. “T-then what do you do to stop them if they DO find you?”

“Ah, we use these. Here, look.” Idelle turned back at the sound of Mirabel rising and saw the woman carefully unhook one of a few little glass phials from where they hung on the back of the wagon. “Be careful with them, they’re a little delicate. But the concoction in here is refined from the tainted blood of the beasts themselves. Blood holds magic in it, you see. And they hate and fear the magic left in these, it speaks of death and ruin and destruction to them.” 

She snorted. “Or so they say. Mayhaps they just stink so bad they can’t stand to be near them. Still, I did have occasion to use one, once. A direwolf came out of the forest by the road some four days west of here. I yelled with all I had for Aldo and hurled one of these at it, and when it shattered nearby the beast it let out a horrible sound before it turned tail and fled into the trees. 

So as far as I’m concerned, they’re worth every penny the alchemists claw out of us for them. Want to see it?”

The younger girl nodded, fascinated. Mirabel handed her the bottle. It was small enough to crush in her fist, with a braided cord run through a loop in the glass and a cork stopper sealed shut with some kind of yellowed glue. A few spoonfuls of a dark, mahogany liquid sloshed inside as the cart rocked, thick and viscous and without leaving a single stain on the glass as it flowed over it. She stared for a moment, wondering if she’d scream and run away too if she could smell it, or if…

She quashed the thought away and firmly handed it back to Mirabel. Of course she wouldn’t, that was ridiculous. Still, something about it captivated her, and she looked up at the woman as the potion returned to its hanger.

“Do you know how they’re made? You said they’re magic, right?”

“Yes, that’s right, magic of a sort. The exact method is a trade secret as I understand it, but I do know that alchemy requires no magic to learn, only a clever mind and precise fingers.” She gave Idelle an approving look. “You’d do well to pursue that interest if you’re lucky enough to get the chance—you’re still young and alchemy is a profitable venture for those who can learn a little.” 

She paused to wag a finger at Idelle. “Just stay away from those researchers. It feels like one of them starts a fire or releases a cloud of miasma every week with their nonsense. No, the safe and well-trodden paths are the ones for people like us. It’s good honest work that lets you live a long and happy life.”

Idelle nodded obediently and internally vowed not to mention anything about maybe having some kind of unknown magical power to the woman. She seemed nice enough, but that was all the more reason not to risk upsetting her happy life.

....

The next few days passed by without incident. The road started to gently slope up, and the full-size trees gradually retreated into groves and then clumps, before giving way entirely to smaller scrub, scattered between hills and tall chunks of rocks that slept in chaotic lines and clusters. No other travelers passed them by, except a single horseman riding briskly late in the evening. Aldo hailed him, but he only nodded back and rode away.

Idelle used her time to quiz her gregarious hosts, doing her best to stay away from anything that might hint at the gaps in her memory. To her surprise, she found herself familiar with many of the local names mentioned, it seemed like her ignorance went no further than what her temporary companions expected of a village girl who hadn’t seen the world. If anything, they seemed a little surprised at some of what she knew. She wished she wasn’t too afraid to tell them that she was surprised too.

Nor did they question further as to her home or parents, to her immense relief. She had decided to tell anyone she met in the future that she was an orphan (which, in her defense, was true as far as she knew). But even if she felt confident convincing Mirabel and Aldo of that, she had no explanation as to what she’d already told them of being lost weeks deep in the Perien Forest.

Hopefully, it wouldn’t matter. She had a goal in mind now. Whatever was wrong with her, it was probably magical, so she would take Mirabel’s advice and find an alchemist. With any luck, they would know enough to help her get her memory back. She hoped. But from what Mirabel said, she’d likely need to become some kind of apprentice or something before they were willing to share any real secrets with her, and that would take time. 

So as lovely as the couple were, they would be moving on to continue their work as traders while she hopefully stayed put.

And maybe if she learned alchemy, she could pay them back for everything they’d done. They had given her food, water, clothes, and all the care and attention she could ask for. She didn’t want the fact that she could likely have survived longer on her own to make her think less of all that.

Another day passed. Despite the complaints of the pair of oxen, they started up a long, steep series of switchbacks on the side of a huge valley. Aldo explained that this was the only pass with a proper road for hundreds of kilometers in either direction. Perien Pass, if you lived on the east side, or The King’s Pass if you lived west of the forest. 

The road, cut through the rock itself in places, was laid generations ago; to allow access to the forest without detouring far, far south around the mountains. Despite periods of neglect it had gradually grown in both width and usage over the centuries, and today it saw caravans of troops or travelers passing through several times a year.

Idelle asked why they hadn’t seen other traders. Apparently, most preferred to travel in groups for safety, and it was only a few “adventurous fools” who would make the trip at irregular times. Mirabel laughed at that and poked Aldo’s nose before explaining that there also simply wasn’t that much to bring that couldn’t wait a few weeks for the next caravan. Sometimes, they would set out merely for a few important letters whose senders were willing to pay well; though of course they would bring anything else that could make a profit on the way. 

She thought that made a great deal of sense; it was no wonder that the two were so affable if much of their job might be special requests like those. No one would want to send something important with a jerk you couldn’t trust.

When they crested the pass, Idelle gasped at the sight. The road danced away, winding through a series of beautiful golden meadows interspersed with swathes of enormous pine trees, taller than any she’d seen before. The sun reflected off the little lakes that hid among them and the hint of a river to the north. Behind that, mountains that seemed enormous even with how high they’d already climbed cut like irregular jagged teeth through the clouds.

She took in the view for a long moment. Then Mirabel tapped her shoulder and pointed, her finger extending towards a spot just to the right of the lowest tooth.

“You won’t be able to see it for some days still, but that’s where we’re heading. The city of Wyrlet. That city’s the place we tamed Dragons, you know.” She gave a wry grin. “Or so they claim. The two other cities that claim the same have been known to disagree.”