“Cahrume was right!” Gieaun sobbed. “We need to get away from that forest!”
Jahrra couldn’t have said it better herself. The girls worked together to get Scede back onto Bhun, his leg miraculously unbroken but sore.
“Thank Ethoes my boots are thick,” he said weakly.
The creature that had grabbed him hadn’t ever had a good grip on his skin, but Jahrra was sure the bruises would be severe and he would have to rest his leg for a while before he could put his full weight on it again.
Once everyone was mounted on their still twitchy horses, Jahrra turned one last time to eye the vile animals she had managed to kill.
“Thank Ethoes you have good aim, Jahrra,” Gieaun whispered.
The corpses looked like they were already beginning to decompose, appearing more haggard and rotten than when they were alive. Jahrra squinted at them more closely, her skin prickling in horror. They looked like the remains of things that had been long dead, unearthed and asked to walk among the living again.
“What are they?” Scede wondered, daring to move his nervous horse a step closer.
“I don’t know,” Jahrra answered. “But I don’t want to be anywhere near them. Let’s get out of here.”
The three of them opted for riding their horses hard, their goal to reach the Wreing Florenn by nightfall so they wouldn’t have to camp out in the hills. By early twilight they were well into the great forest, seeking refuge from the swollen rainclouds that had slowly moved in from the coast. At any moment the sky could open up and leave them stranded in a downpour.
“Can you believe this?” Jahrra noted as she squinted up at the heavy clouds. “First the attack on the edge of the Cohn Forest and now a storm. We’ve had the worst luck!”
“We’ll have to find somewhere to camp,” Scede stated. He had ridden the whole day through without complaining. Jahrra worried he might be angry at her. This trip had been one disaster after another, the last one almost ending in their deaths. She furrowed her brow and glanced around, trying to think of a solution. In the fading light she spotted a familiar grove of black oak trees peeking their heads over a rise in the land.
“Look,” Jahrra said, pointing northward, “there’s the Black Swamp. We can stay with Denaeh tonight, I’m sure she won’t mind. It would be better than sleeping out here in the rain at least.”
Gieaun and Scede gave each other a hesitant look, but said nothing. Jahrra was sure of what they were thinking, and she had a sneaking suspicion it was the same thing that was on her mind: if those monsters had any desire to come after them, they would have a much better chance if they were sleeping inside of Denaeh’s cave that outside of it.
“Besides,” Jahrra braved against the silence, giving a begrudging pat to Phrym’s stuffed saddle bags, “I have to give her these apples.”
“Oh, yes, the apples. The reason we went on this cursed camping trip in the first place,” Scede grumbled quietly as he reached down to rub his swollen leg.
Jahrra remained silent. “I’m sure she never meant for any of that to happen,” she said after some time.
“Of course not,” Scede said spitefully. “She never means for anything dangerous to happen when she suggests it, it just does.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Jahrra asked, her face a mixture of slight anger and confusion.
But before Scede could respond and before the situation could escalate, Gieaun stepped in.
“Look, we like Denaeh, we really do, but there’s something strange about her, Jahrra. I think it was very wrong of her to ask you to go to Ehnnit Canyon.”
She turned in Aimhe’s saddle to face her brother, and with a pleading look continued in a harsh whisper that a peeved Jahrra couldn’t really hear over the sound of the brewing rainstorm.
“I don’t completely trust her either, Scede. But like Jahrra said, she wouldn’t mind us staying, and we do need a place to stay for the night. It would be safer than staying out in the forest at least.”
Once again, Gieaun was able to make peace between her brother and her friend and soon they were heading towards the Black Swamp. Denaeh greeted them like she always did, dressed as an old woman in ragged clothing. As soon as she recognized them, however, she faded into her more youthful, charming self, despite the dismal weather.
“Ahhh!” she cried cheerfully, topaz eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “What brings you all here on this lovely day?”
She knew very well what had brought them, for she had sensed it with their approach, but she always liked to give them the benefit of the doubt.
“I brought your apples,” Jahrra said plainly, jerking her head toward her saddle bags.
Denaeh faked surprise. “On a day like this, and so late in the afternoon?”
“We were actually on our way home from Ehnnit Canyon,” Scede answered curtly, his eyes avoiding the Mystic’s.
Denaeh stood back with her arms crossed low, her hands gently grasping her elbows and her mouth screwed up in careful consideration. She knew very well that this Resai boy didn’t like nor trust her. Suspicious boy, she mused. He believes my motives might not have been in Jahrra’s best interests. I hope his loyalty doesn’t turn into an inconvenience.
“We would have camped in the hills last night and made our way home tomorrow,” he continued, interrupting her thoughts, “but we were attacked.”
As if to emphasize this, Scede slid from his horse and landed with a grunt, favoring his left leg.
Denaeh’s eyes flashed.
“Attacked?” she asked, moving towards the boy. “Attacked by what?”
“We don’t know,” Gieaun said, looking to her friend.
“Wolves, or something like them. They were horrible and huge and looked like nothing I’ve ever seen in Oescienne,” Jahrra said. “But only Scede was hurt.”
“That is a lucky thing,” Denaeh said quietly. “But come, if you have wolves on your trail, we must get inside, for the Deepening Twilight is nearly upon us.”
“The Deepening Twilight?” Gieaun asked cautiously as she climbed down from Aimhe.
“Yes, my dear, the Deepening Twilight. It’s the time of day when the troubled souls of the departed roam the earth, trying to find their way home to the afterlife. I wouldn’t be surprised if these wolves of yours are of the same ilk.”
Gieaun made a small noise, Scede blanched and pressed further against Bhun, and Jahrra held perfectly still. After what they had been through, the last thing they wanted to hear was that they may not have escaped after all.
When they didn’t move, Denaeh began removing the apples from Phrym’s saddlebags and continued her story.
“The Deepening Twilight is also the time of day when the evil things of the world start lurking about, hunting for victims to torment. It is said that they can only dwell in the dark, and that they can smell the fear that the darkness brings. That is why I think you may not have escaped your hunters just yet.”
Jahrra thought that perhaps Denaeh was making this up to get a rise out of them, but she could tell from her tone that this was no joke. The Mystic looked around at the grim faces of the three children, reading in their thoughts what they had encountered while traveling up Ehnnit Canyon.
She quickly smiled and said cheerily, “Don’t fret, you’re safe here! And we always have the owls to look after us!”
“The owls?” asked Gieaun diffidently.
“Of course. Ethoes bade the owls to guard the good spirits at night, swooping down upon the crawling filth that tries to harm us.”
This seemed to comfort Gieaun a little, but she still looked shaken up.
“Don’t worry. Most spirits only come out on Sobledthe Eve anyways.”