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Chapter 20

Their steady pace did not let up as the moon rode high overhead, the fruity scent of midnight blossoms and the crisp sharp tang of cedar and pine perfuming the crisp nighttime air.

Jess lost herself in the feel of her mare's steady stride, one with her mount, flowing as effortlessly atop of him as her Twilight graced her shoulder, peering forth like a hawk even now, neither of them detecting the faintest branch, bramble, or pitfall in the road ahead.

Jess was grateful for her companion's gentle silence. She knew he had been keeping an eye on her during the entirety of that encounter she dared not think too deeply of, and she knew that his sharp voice would have warned her of any danger, no matter how distracted she had been.

At last their path branched off from the high road, a hard-packed trail near as wide as the main road, cutting into woodlands growing ever thicker, ever more primeval, until the bowers of massive trees arched overhead, the scents of oak, chestnut, maple and spruce tickling Jess's nose, and Jess found a curious weight lifting from her chest, feeling strangely at home, for all that the path had grown pitch black, so thick was the foliage overhead, moonlight and starlight equally swallowed by the arboreal kingdom they had entered.

“Bloody hells, I can't see a damn thing!” Malek hissed as they slowed abruptly to the most sedate of paces. “How the hell is that bastard even able to see his hand in front of his face?”

Jess frowned at that.

“Magelight,” Rowan whispered. “I noted he was carrying one, as well as saber and daggers, when we... undressed him.”

Jess was glad the pitch blackness hid so well her furious blush.

"Well, we don't have a magelight, not that I know of, so how do we push forward?" Mortant's frustrated voice, still wise enough to be pitched low enough to drown out in the endless susurrations of leaves rustling in the wind.

Lucas chuckled softly as soft blue light suddenly marked his smile.

Neal nodded, impressed. “I'm glad you haven't been neglecting your arcane studies, no matter how Eloquin has been pushing you.”

Lucas grinned. "And I'm almost good enough to start casting battlemagics, even from horseback." He frowned. "Almost. Right now I'm so tense that all the glyphs I have mastered inside my skull are a swirl of color. It's hard to relax enough to even cast this globe, but, with Mortant's quip... I couldn't resist trying."

Neal nodded. “It's true. Even the king's own battlemages cast their magics from behind a wall of shieldmen protecting them, if they can't cast from the safety of a tower or parapet.”

Malek cursed softly.

Jess gazed at her friend. “What's wrong, shieldbrother?”

Malek grimaced, looked back at Lucas and turned to Jess, shame clearly written on his face.

“I should be able to do that, Jess. I should be able to help.”

Neal shook his head. “Don't be, Malek. You are only a second year, and from what I've gathered, wards are your strength.”

Malek chuckled bitterly. "And that's pretty much all I can do. Cast an enchantment that might neutralize an enemy spell or two, and I can't even cast a light globe with my heart racing like a stallion, knowing what were soon to face, and you all are counting on me."

Lucas frowned. "Shut the hell up, Malek. I actually respect you. You can best me with a longsword, which I accept, for all that I work damned hard at it, but to find that you're my match at wrestling when I'm so much bigger than you?" He chuckled. "You're a freak of nature, Malek. Take pride in that. Who the hell cares if I can cast a pretty ball of light when my heart's racing? We'll have to put it out soon enough when we get close to trouble, if we don't want our enemy to know we're coming."

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"Correct." Eloquin's sharp voice cut through their banter. "Only by the rustle of branches and the cry of crickets do I give you leave to speak at all. Lucas, your skill is noted. And now you will quench your spell. We did not bring magelights for a reason, lest the slightest flash of light warn spooked prey that we are onto them. And Cornelius is no fool. Even with a magelight, he dare not go faster than a walk. No student of ancient arts is there to ward his mount's hooves from roots and branches easily hidden in the shadows of such dim light. His gallop finished the minute he entered these woods.”

“Yes, Master Eloquin,” a suddenly shaken Lucas whispered, his brilliant blue orb immediately fading to a glimmer of light, then pitch darkness once more.

Sapphire eyes, glowing brilliantly still, peered into Jess's own. “Should we tell them?”

Jess smirked. “No fear, my battle brothers. We can go faster than the slowest of walks. Twilight and I will lead the way.”

"Your imaginary cat?" Lucas scoffed. "I'm sorry, Jess. Flights of fancy are one thing, a bit of madness helps in a fight, as you've proved a dozen times over, and I'm glad my mount is not tripping over roots. but this is reality, and you don't really have a talking cat. The only reason why we dared the high road at a trot before was because of the full moon shining everywhere but here within this primeval forest."

"As long as she can get us from point A to point B, I don't much care whether her cat is real or not," Neal's dry voice declared.

“Calenbry. Report.”

Jess immediately stiffened. "I sense the path through the trees just fine, no light needed, sir. Just stay right behind my click and we can ride at a fast walk, as we have a good five feet of hardpacked road to either side of me." Jess frowned. She couldn't help it. "This is a lumber trail. It has to be. Nothing else but the weight of massive logs dragged through the forest would turn loamy soil to hard-packed road. And Lucas is right about one thing, this is primeval woodland."

Her fist clenched her stirrup. “Accords have been broken. Accords sworn to, centuries ago!”

Harsh whispers echoed through their band. Jess blinked and swallowed, surprised at how fierce she felt, hearing the echo of ancient promises whispered in the rustling leaves overhead.

“You will focus on the here and now, Calenbry. Transgressions will be handled in due time. As of this moment, near three dozen lives are in your hands.”

Jess blinked at that, taking a deep, shuddering breath, the weight of sudden responsibility clamping down upon her like a vice. "I know, sir. The way ahead is clear, our target but half a mile ahead, though you can't see him, as this logging road is curving to the culprit's den, even now."

“And how the hell do you know that, Calenbry?” Mortant demanded.

Mord chuckled. “Don't you get it, yet, Mortant? Velheim's prize is our own. Their most handsome pieces on the board, and we still hold the queen. As long as the last living Druid is among us, the will of the forest is our own.”

Jess frowned at Mord's choice of words. The way his voice dripped with mockery and admiration in equal measure. The way he had smiled at her when she had exited the inn, face still lowered, feeling a hot awkwardness that she had been utterly free of an hour before.

“I don't even claim to know what that is, Mord. I just have a knack with plants, and the acorn aside, Cornelius throbs like an aching pustule upon the face of this forest, as do all the denizens of the grand fort we soon approach, sawed into the heart of primeval woodland. Against every treaty and accord.”

“Accords few even remember,” Mord noted. “I'm surprised that one of your...scholarly temperament does.”

“Enough.” Eloquin's voice silenced them both. “Calenbry, focus on the trail ahead. Malek, to her right, hum and click as you will. Everyone else, follow at a fast walk.”

Jess frowned. “It's not like I can't hum and lead us at the same time,” she grumbled.

“Oh but that's just it. You can't, my mistress. You really can't.”

Jess stuck her tongue at her cat's cheshire grin that she just knew he was flashing at her, for all that it was dark as pitch.

“Focus on your strengths, Calenbry.” Eloquin's words, and somehow Jess knew he felt just the same as her cat.