Ifonsa listened.

Several hours had passed since they had left the glade.  The game trail guided them downhill to the east.  The river running to Caham and beyond was not far away, but Ifonsa would divert before reaching it.  It was too obvious a target.  If their pursuers had skipped ahead, or found some way to contact allies waiting nearby, it would offer them many ideal places to set ambushes.  

The half moon glimmered through the clouds, emitting a silvery light.  It rained down upon them, as they moved through the trees, casting everything in stark shades of light and shadow.  

It was good to be home again, Ifonsa thought.  The familiar scents and sounds.  The uhu of the owls, and scampering of rabbits.  She could almost smell the féacetar, which was called Yellow-weed in Milardus.  She knew these hills like the back of her hand.  Both Adanna and her had played in amongst them as children, sometimes wandering for days before returning home.  

Behind her, the others still argued about the priest, or wizard,  or seer,  or whatever he really was.  Falduin was able to reveal little more about him. They concluded the seer was the likely manipulator behind the entire scheme. Although to what purpose none could even speculate.    Then they began arguing about the prophecies, and what they were supposed to mean.

“The Griffon God foretells plenty,” Lera recited. “The palace of the south is ravaged by the Warrior of Light. The Duchess of Light will wed the Prince of Light.”

“Which one is that?” Heric asked.

“It’s old.  I don’t remember the name of it.”

“Too many, of lights.” Falduin added.

“Who is the griffon god?” Heric asked.

“Úlæ,” Lera said. “Or perhaps Cóufæn.  She cursed the eagles.”

“Why would the goddess of the wind curse them?”

“It’s a long complicated story.  Basically she was jealous.” Lera turned to Falduin, who was trying not to laugh. “What?”

“Goddess of wind,” Falduin said, grinning.

“Grow up!”

“Could I be the Duchess of Light?” Tegalie asked.

“Not unless you were born a member of the Imperial Household,” Heric said. “They’re the only ones I know that have dukes and duchesses.”

“No.  I’m just a Princess.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Stop saying that.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Tegalie fumed.  Behind her, Fahesha cackled quietly.

“How do they connect?” Ganthe asked Lera.

“Connect what?” she asked.

“The prophecies.  The one you just mentioned and the Princess’”

“They don’t.  They’re completely separate.  We have hundreds upon hundreds in our library.  There are even more at Arthleah.  They had many originals at Sovenza, before it was razed.   They’re all different. Most are pure gibberish.”

“So why keep them?”

“We study them in the hope that great events will be revealed to us beforehand.  So we can prepare.”

“Has it?”

“Not yet,” Lera said, “Although some have revealed themselves in retrospect, after the events have already taken place.  One of our oldest scrolls goes thus: Upon the solstice in the Year of Jade, when The Door to the Dream of a Thousand Worlds is closed, the Oath of Virtue will be broken, and the Brand of Stars shall be lost.”

“It sounds like nonsense.”

“It’s The Battle of the Strand.  The Door is the Demon Portal.  The Brand of Stars is what the Elfs called the Blade of En.”

That caught Ifonsa’s attention, “And the Oath of Virtue?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Lera said. “ I don’t think anyone does.”

“It still sounds like nonsense,” Ganthe said.

Falduin gasped, as he stumbled before catching himself.

“This had better not be a wind joke,” Lera warned.

“The goblins have found the campsite,”  Falduin told them.

“How do you know?” Heric asked.

They had stopped and gathered as well as they could.  The close confines of the trees made it difficult. 

“I placed a warding,” Falduin answered. “It has been disturbed.”

“It could be anything,” Ifonsa said, “A rabbit, a lynx, a wolf.”

Falduin shook his head, “I placed it on the fire,” he said. “It was still burning.  Then it was suddenly quenched.”

“Can we ride?” Heric asked Ifonsa.

Ifonsa shook her head, “Not without great risk. The horses are exhausted after carrying us for nearly three days without sufficient rest.  I would rather have them fresh when we need them.”

“How far is Caham?”

“By the crow, six leagues.  But I want to avoid the river, and skirt around Xnaxel te col Säóts.  So tomorrow evening at the latest.” 

“Six leagues?” Falduin said. “We walked further in less than a day.”

“Not in this terrain we didn’t. And here, you would be lost and winding in circles within an hour,”  Ifonsa said, addressing them all. “Look, they’re still some hours behind us.  We have time.  I can lead us through places they will never find, and closer to Caham the Warders keep a close eye.”

“That’s what we’ll do,” Heric said. “I know we are all exhausted, and the horses more so, but we have no choice.”  Heric looked to each of them.  In turn they nodded.  They all knew there was no other option.

As they continued again, Lera whispered to Falduin, “Why didn’t you use the warding with the bandits?”

“I just worked out how to do it.  I’m more than a little surprised it worked,” he said. “Plus with the bandits I had no place I knew they would go.”

“But you do now?”

Falduin’s gaze fell upon Tegalie’s back, “They are being drawn to her.”

“Me too?” Lera asked.

“Most likely, but she consumed far more of the black liquid than you.”

“I can sense no traces from either of us. Is it like with you and the witch?”

Falduin shook his head, “It’s quite unusual.  The source is mired by shadow.  It’s touch subdued.”

“What do you think is following us?”

“If I had to guess, whatever it was that you hoisted into the pit.  Does your doctrine include such things?”

“The undead?  Oh, yes.  But I have never seen one before, nor felt the hatred and fear that radiates from it.”

“It was more powerful than I.  It cut through my wards as though they weren’t even there.”

“But together were bested it.”

“I am just glad there was only one of them. There is only one, correct?”

“That I do not know.”

 

The moon had disappeared from view behind the trees as they turned to the north-west.  Yet it lit up the clouds and allowed them to see, even if it was just a little. They entered a shallow valley, the murmuring of cascades, the chattering of insects, and the occasional croaking of frogs, off to their left.

“No,” Lera suddenly muttered, shuffling about.  “Oh, no.”

She stopped and handed Falduin her reins.

“Take these,” she said, before earnestly digging in amongst her kit.

“What’s wrong?” Falduin asked.

“I need a moment,” Lera said.  

Finding what she was seeking, she dashed away into the darkness under the trees.

“Something she ate didn’t agree with her,” Falduin quipped, with a nervous chuckle.

They mingled while they waited.  Ifonsa and Heric quietly discussed matters. It began with them reviewing the route they planned to take, before Heric was suddenly reminded.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” he said, “that knife of yours-“

“What of it?” Ifonsa said, defensively.

“It’s special.”

“Very.”

“I can’t even see that you’re carrying it.”

“As you said, it’s special,” Ifonsa said, “My great grand-mother crafted it.”

“Great grand-mother?”

“Yes.  If you’re lucky, you’ll meet her once we reach Caham.”

“And if I’m unlucky?”

“You’ll meet my brothers.”

“You have brothers? I didn’t know.”

“Too many.  Of course if you’re particularly unlucky you’ll meet Gadfri.”

There was a sound, the breaking of a twig, off deep under the canopy off their right. Both Ifonsa and Heric snapped around, readying their weapons. They listened, but there was nothing beyond the noises resonating from the stream, and the whispering of their companions.  

Tegalie and Fahesha chatted quietly.  Tegalie mostly complaining, and  Fahesha mocking her in response.

“Do you not ever take off your...things,” Falduin asked Fahesha.  He waved his hand around his head.

“Tings?” the little woman asked.

“Robes...coverings.  I’ve never seen your face.”

“Does he want to kiss the little Fahesha, huh?” the little woman cackled.

“She’s very religious,” Tegalie said. “Now I would appreciate it if you would stop bothering us.”

“Yes, Highness,” Falduin said, turning away.

Meanwhile, Ganthe caressed Sunna, whispering in her ear. Suddenly he stopped and scanned the area immediately behind the group, as if he too had heard something. He waited, his hand  near the hilt his knife.  Then a figure emerged from the darkness, and he relaxed.  It was Lera.

“Sorry,” she said as she drew near.

“Are you well?” Falduin asked her.

“I’ve been better,” Lera answered, stuffing some white cloth into her kit.

“You’ve changed your breeches,” Falduin observed.  

Lera no longer wore white, but a darker colour. Under the stars they looked grey. “Yes,” she said.

“Oh dear.  It must have been bad.” Falduin giggled. “I have a spell that can clean them if you need.”

“No, thank you,” she said taking the reins of her horse.  “Shall we go?”

They moved off in single-file again.

As they continued, Falduin whispered, “Was it the black stuff?”

“What?”

“Do you think it was the stuff you drank, or something else?”

“It might have been.”

“Oh dear,” Tegalie said. “I hope not.  I am not prepared for that.”

“The Fahesha is,” the little woman said. “Always ready.”

After another hour they glimpsed swarms of tiny, coloured lights through the trees to the north.  It was difficult to see at first, and many of those that initially sighted them believed they were just suffering from the lack of sleep and exhaustion.  However, soon they noticed that the lights formed patterns: mainly flowers and simple shapes.

“Are those lightning bugs?” Falduin asked, finally.

“We call them säóts,” Ifonsa said. “They dwell upon Xnaxel te col säóts.  The Hill of the Undying.”

 “Faeries?” Tegalie asked, gleefully, “Elfs, pixies, gnomes?”

Ifonsa was surprised The Princess knew the name.  “Of a kind,” she told her.

“Can we visit them?”

“No!” Ifonsa cried. “They are dangerous beyond measure.  The wardens avoid them like a plague house.”

“The Wardens are cleverer than some Sisters, then” Falduin quipped.

“What was that?” Lera asked, sharply.

“Nothing.”

The trees around them thinned as they drew nearer, replaced by groves of oak trees and dragonbush.  This offered them a proper view of the hill.  

It loomed as a dark shadow against the starry sky off to their right.  In clumps across the mound, it appeared as though someone had left clusters of lamps.  While most of them remained stationary, others moved about haphazardly. At one point, a great line of green lights clashed with a string of red ones.  As they watched some of them winked out of existence.  Abruptly the greens scattered, and were hotly pursued by the reds.

Suddenly a brilliant white light lit up a grove of trees on the hill face.  Many of the lights on the hill converged towards it.  The  radiance dazzled for a moment before subsuming back into shadow again. 

“What was that?” Falduin asked.

“A spawning,” Ifonsa told them. “A new fae has been born.”

“Like the Holy Koalú?” Lera asked.

“Exactly like her.”

“It’s a blessing.”

“I want to see the baby elf,” Tegalie said.

“No!” Ifonsa insisted. “We were lucky to survive the ring.  This is far worse. The fae are not the friendly creatures of folktale.  If they ensnare us we will be lucky if they kill us quickly.”

“And if we’re unlucky?” Heric asked.

“They’ll make us dance.”

“But I like to dance,” Tegalie said.

“Not all day and all night without rest.  They do far worse to men and women that take their fancy.” Ifonsa looked pointedly at Lera, “and they delight in supping upon ragblo-.”

There was a loud guttural cry from the forest behind them.  It was immediately followed by the sound of storming boots and the crashing of branches.

Heric was the first to react.  He swept up onto Rianio’s back and turned his mount.

“Ride!” he screamed. “The goblins have found us!”