“That part of the sea still glows today,” Edsel said. “You can see it from Felan Mark’s towers. From what I felt that day, Lightbringer, I suspected you were alive.”
Ryne gave Edsel a small smile. “In my attempt to escape across the Vallum I ended up at Knight Commander Varick’s encampment during a shadeling attack. Sakari and I helped him fight, saving thousands. He vouched for us and we earned a partial pardon. Afterward, we were offered a full pardon if we served the Tribunal in its endeavors here in Ostania. As my power craved to fight the shade, I accepted.”
Ryne became deathly silent. Farther north, grasslands and forest sloped gradually until he could no longer see them. The Vallum of Light rose at that end of the valley, its glow dominating the land in the distance.
Edsel called for a stop near the forest. The daggerpaw handlers fanned out into the dense trees. Several other Setian dismounted and followed the handlers, torches bobbing about within the woods.
“This is why I said the Chronicles must have a hand in your being here, Lightbringer,” Edsel said. “I always knew you lived. I felt it in my heart. When my son described you, I had to come to see for myself. Come, we’re here.”
Ryne smiled. He still remembered Edsel’s constant mention of the Chroniclers. I searched for over twenty years, my old friend, and not once did I find proof of the great record keepers of history. Just rumor upon rumor of their existence.
Garon dismounted and helped his father down. Ryne, Sakari and Irmina also dismounted. They followed Garon through the long grasses and into the dark forest, sweet scents of blooming flowers and the chirping of insects greeting them. Two daggerpaw handlers flanked the group on each side. The men’s heads moved from side to side as if they expected an attack at any moment. Irmina’s hand strayed close to her sword.
Edsel gestured around the valley as he hobbled. “This valley is one of the few fertile ones in this part of the Barrier Mountains. No one would’ve ever suspected the Setian of being here. After all, we’re all under the shade’s influence.” He cast a quick glance and a wry smile at Irmina.
She met his gaze for a moment, and then she looked at the ground, her pale cheeks flushed.
As they progressed through the woods along a path lit by torches and lamps, Ryne opened his Matersense. The forest came alive around him, the essences swirling in multiple eddies. A breeze picked up, but this time the flower scents were gone. Instead, a fetid, moldy stench assaulted Ryne’s nostrils. His eyes narrowed.
Irmina sniffed. “What’s that smell?”
“That’s the reason for all the torches and lamps. The reason we now stay together at all times. The reason we brought you here,” Edsel’s voice hissed.
Battle energy flooded Ryne.
CHAPTER 43
Irmina’s hand darted to her sword’s hilt. Garon snatched one of his axes, clearing the clasp on his hip before his foot landed with his next step. Ryne stepped in between them.
“Stop it,” Ryne ordered, his outstretched arms keeping them apart. “If they meant us harm, there’d be no need to drag us all the way out here.” Ryne held Irmina’s small hand against her hilt so she couldn’t draw the sword.
After a moment, tension eased from her flushed face, she relaxed her grip, and he released her hand. Still glaring at her, Garon put away his axe. Ryne took his hands from the man’s chest.
They continued forward, the decaying, moldy stench growing stronger as they advanced. Ahead, lamps hung from branches, lighting up the forest. Pines and oaks appeared, leaves frail and gray, trunks sporting rotted, discolored masses. The flowers and plants close by were wilted and brown. Edsel led them past the line of unhealthy trees into wide, open land.
A kinai orchard spread as far as Ryne could see. What looked like red spider webs covered the ground. Fungus engulfed the trees so dense in some parts it hung like thick, mottled beards.
A choked sound uttered from Irmina, and her hand covered her mouth. “Oh, Ilumni.”
Every kinai plant was dead. Some fruit appeared half-eaten or simply squashed. Shade clogged the other elements within the plants. The air itself appeared dim. At their core, most trees lacked their sela.
Ryne’s thoughts raced. Heat crawled along his skin and not only did his Scripts roil, but his bloodlust tried to rise. After a moment, the feeling passed. Something squeezed Ryne’s hand, and he looked down. Irmina’s clammy fingers clung to his. She caught herself and released her grip.
“Did you see what did this?” Ryne asked.
Garon nodded. “Follow me.”
The tall Setian edged around the dead orchard with Edsel hobbling after him.
As Ryne turned to follow, clumps of shade among the dead kinai drew his attention. He squinted. Wraithwolf droppings. Ryne signaled to Sakari who nodded, then the two of them hurried to join the others with a pale-faced Irmina in tow.
“I wasn’t here when this first happened,” Garon said when they caught up. “The daggerpaws picked up on them. My father sent a team out, and they found this.” He stopped at an unusually dense thicket with ashy, motionless leaves and black trunks.
Ryne recognized the way the trees appeared as the same as those he’d found in the Fretian Woods when he discovered the missing villagers. The essences within the trees were smudged the same as he remembered from Carnas and the kinai orchards at the Astocan farms.
Irmina gasped. “Wraithwoods. How’s this possible?” Her trembling voice was a barely audible whisper.
The name itched with familiarity to Ryne. But he couldn’t conjure the memory of where he heard it before.
“That’s not all.” Garon brought his hand up, and his brow furrowed.
Light essences swept up into the man. His hands moved with a circular motion, and he pushed the Forging out. A swath of light cut into the wraithwoods, and the trees released a soft, whispering wail as if spirits sighed through the forest.
Ryne frowned at what Garon had done, then it clicked. The man’s golden eyes, his unusually strong aura, and now this. Garon was a Setian Ashishin.
Garon stepped forward into the path he cut into the wraithwoods with Ryne and the others following. The ground and trees around them smoked, filling the air with the smell of burning wood. Heat rose in waves from the earth, warm even through Ryne’s boots. Charred stumps were all that remained of some trees; the rest were ash rising on the wind. Ryne anticipated a reaction from Irmina, but she seemed too stunned to think.
Within the thicket another scent consumed the air. A choking stink like old corpses left out on a battlefield. The others coughed at the stench and held their hands over their mouths and noses. Ryne breathed through his mouth to lessen the putrid smell as he eyed the jumbled fleshy mess in the thicket. His bloodlust rose screaming, and his Scripts squirmed about his skin.
Bodies of Setian men and women lay on the dark, soggy ground. Maggots crawled from their flesh, and black fluid seeped from their wounds. But their chests rose and fell in a slow rhythm. Black tendrils connected them together. Close to them lay half-formed wraithwolves.
Retching, Irmina turned away, spewing the contents of her stomach.
Ryne folded his mouth in against the urge to inhale. “Not only have the shadelings left the Broken Lands, bypassed the wards in the Rotted Forest, but they’ve also breached the Vallum of Light.”
“T-That’s…not…possible.” Irmina said. If she was pale before, her face was now a sickly white.
Ryne gestured to encompass the area around them. “It shouldn’t be, but the proof lies before us. Worse yet is what could have extracted sela from the kinai.”