Chapter Twenty-Three

The Spirit Wilds

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“It’s safe to open your eyes,” Rhydian said.

Swallowing the bile in her throat, Inerys dared to peek around his shoulder, her body sore and stiff from spending the better part of two hours clinging to his back. The forests and craggy mountains spread before them were not all that different from those she’d spied near the keep upon their departure, though a faint haze marked the beginning of a far-off treeline. She would have mistaken it for an early fog, were it not for the subtle light that played through it like distantly reflected starlight over calm waters.

“What is that, exactly?” She asked, hoping he knew what she meant without her having to point.

Her hands were far too shaky and still refused to give up their hold about his waist.

“The outermost boundary of the Spirit Wilds,” he said, shifting in the saddle, “We’ll be camping just inside of it for the first week or so.”

“Why only the first week?”

She was under the impression they would be gone for far longer.

“The Wilds are an anomaly, of sorts,” he said, “a natural bridge between our world and that of the spirits. The pressure the area exudes causes ordinary essences to condense into aura. The further you travel toward the Origin at its heart, the more intense it becomes. This far out, the aura is watered down, in a sense, but more potent than what’s around us now. I’d like to keep you along the outer edges until your fourth physical Ascension, then move further in as your tolerance for the spiritual pressure increases.”

She blinked, wishing she had more than a rudimentary knowledge of this new world she’d been thrust into.

“I didn’t realize I would be able to reach my next so quickly.”

If she could progress faster . . .

She sensed his hesitation a heartbeat before he said, “With the current state of your core, you may reach it as soon as we cross the border, if not shortly after.”

The thought of such an abrupt change made her shiver.

“What’s it like?” She asked, fearing a repeat of what had happened at the keep when she first awoke.

“I won’t lie and tell you it’s pleasant. Quite the opposite, in fact. I’d be prepared to vomit, at the very least. It’s all but guaranteed when the physical core advances.”

Considering she had been on the verge of doing so since they first took wing, a release might prove preferable, at this point.

“Wonderful.”

“We’ll land outside the border and have Vesryn on hand when we cross, just in case,” he said, glancing up toward Vaelor and Inet who still circled overhead, “Start cycling, if you haven’t already. You’ll want to make sure your core is processing essence as efficiently as possible once you’re within the aura field.”

Checking her channels, she nodded. “All right.”

“Ready?”

“I think so.”

Tanuzet’s high whistle was all the warning Inerys had before she deftly leapt from the cliff side and into the valley below. For the briefest of moments, they were weightless. Then, her stomach pressed up into her throat and she grunted. She clung to Rhydian with a certain desperation, her cheek pressed hard against his armored back. She thought she felt him chuckle, though it could just as easily have been the turbulence of their fall. Flying, she’d learned, was rarely a smooth experience.

When the wyvern’s wings snapped open to catch the wind, she thought she might pass out entirely. Her eyelids fluttered, but the sudden burst of adrenaline kept her upright, if not keen. She groaned, wishing for nothing more than to be back upon solid, immovable ground. Much as she would have preferred to walk, she could not argue the effectiveness of flight over such mundane means. The sheer distance they had covered in so short a time had been staggering and she could not help but wonder how quickly one might travel between the cities back home. Riding on horseback from Aeodran to the nearest city-state usually took her the better part of two days, if the weather permitted.

Thoughts of home kept her mind busy enough to tune out the majority of the short flight to the border. Both Inet and Vaelor landed shortly after Tanuzet, rustling their wings and exchanging knickers that almost sounded as if they belonged to some obscure language all their own. Rhydian patted Inerys’ arm in a polite, yet silent request for her to let go. Her cheeks flushed when she realized how tightly she’d been holding onto him. She muttered an apology, quick to release her hold and sit back to place as much distance between them as possible without shoving herself out of the saddle.

With a low rumble, Tanuzet rested upon her belly and extended her right wing to grant them a viable path to the ground. Rhydian stepped down just below her shoulder and held out his hand. She hesitated, but took it. The last thing she needed was to tumble to her death simply because she was suddenly too embarrassed to touch him.

“Does the aura cause that strange shimmering?” She asked in an effort to distract herself from a creeping sense of vertigo.

He nodded. “Certain essences don’t play nicely with one another. They’re a bit like oil and water, in that regard, but the effect does make for an interesting sight.”

Moist earth squished beneath her boots as she slowly eased herself upright. She clung to his hand a touch longer than she ought to, largely because she did not fully trust her knees’ ability to hold her weight once on the ground. They ached far more than she cared to admit, as did her hips and lower back. They were the least of her concerns, though, considering what she was about to undergo.

The older, sour-faced sage stepped out from Inet’s shadow, giving her a once-over. His distaste for her practically radiated from him.

“Have you been cycling?”

“I have,” she said, resisting the urge to take a step back and away.

“Good. On you go,” he said waving forward with a hand, “no point in putting off the inevitable.”

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Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the look of disapproval Rhydian cast his way. She might have thanked him, were she not staring into the forest as if it would devour her whole. Somewhere in the back of her mind, her mother chided her childish hesitation. She had ventured into far worse forests and come out the otherside. How was this any different from the deepwoods?

Cydan stepped up beside her, then leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper. “Don’t worry, I’ll chase off any woodland beasties if they get too close.”

She gave a start, but smiled her thanks. “It's nice to know someone has my back.”

He winked and offered his arm. “Always happy to help.”

Inerys took it and together, they crossed what remained of the short clearing.

Something tugged at her as she passed through the idle shimmer among the trees, as if she’d unwittingly stepped through some unseen cobweb. From the span of one step to another, the air shifted. Not oppressive, exactly, but thick. Humid, even, like Tanuzet’s breath had been. The scent of moss and musk hung heavy between the trees with an underlying sweetness that often accompanied the presence of decaying leaves and age-hollowed stumps.

Her body practically hummed in response to whatever charge the air held, her channels expanding and drinking deep of what she could only assume to be aura. Distantly, she sensed Cydan stiffen and draw her hair back behind her head with his free hand. The steady path of her essence stuttered and jerked at the sudden influx of power. The world tilted and she could no longer tell up from down as her head spun. Foulness bloomed across her tongue and before she knew it, she was on her knees, vomiting black bile into the grass. What poured from her lips was neither blood, nor the remnants of an earlier meal, but rather, an oily substance akin to ink. It smelled of rot, though none she’d ever encountered.

“Keep cycling,” Cydan said from where he knelt beside her. "You're nearly there."

Half choking, she forced herself to draw her attention inward and ignore the waves of heat dancing across her skin. She imagined that silly little stream, watching as it expanded and contracted like some living thing. Her channels undulated as they fed on the excess aura swirling through her body. They burned in places, but the sting of it eased with each passing second. Pressure built between her hips and for a moment, it felt as though she’d been kicked beneath her naval.

Inerys gasped and her physical core contracted. The force of it sent a series of tremors skittering through her bones and channels alike. She heaved once, twice. Her arms threatened to give out, but firm hands held her steady.

Spirits’ breath.

“Mind her scarf,” Rhydian said as he released her.

A hand patted her back and through her dizziness, she spared Cydan a glance.

“Better?” He asked, still holding her hair away from her face.

“A bit,” she admitted, having to take a moment to catch her breath.

When she was ready, he helped her to her feet, grimacing at the mess she left behind.

“Come on, then,” he said, “best to get you away from that nasty business and let Vesryn have a look.”

Inerys didn’t argue.

He sat her against one of the nearby trees and stood over her as the sage knelt beside the pool of bile. Muttering to himself, he dipped a finger into the steaming goo, inspected it, then rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. She nearly gagged when he raised it to his nose.

“Well?” Rhydian asked, his arms crossed.

“Remarkably healthy, all things considered,” he said, “the consistency is good. I’d say it was a clean purge.”

“Did that . . . really come from me?” She asked.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, we all go through it,” Rhydian said, “the physical core likes to root out any impurities when it advances.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” she said.

~*~

After spending the better part of the remaining twilight hours scouting their ideal campsite, they had settled for a sheltered overlook perched above a wide river valley a few miles from where Inerys had purged herself. The site was relatively flat, the surrounding trees tall and spread enough to allow the wyverns to land without fear of crowding one another or cramping their wings. Tanuzet was the last to alight in the center of the field, nickering as she settled among the grass.

Inerys sat back, rubbing at the tight muscles of her thighs and lower back. Her body still quivered from time to time with the lingering aftershocks of her cleansing, but overall, a majority of her pain had subsided. It had made the flight far more pleasant, even if her knees still ached from straddling the saddle for extended periods of time. Tanuzet was no horse, that much was certain. Her movement and size were still foreign to her, but as with everything, she was sure her confidence would come in time. There was no lack of flight in her future.

Using one of the spikes along the wyvern’s shoulder to steady herself, Inerys allowed Rhydian to guide her back to the ground. She staggered, regaining her bearings, then stretched her stiff limbs. She groaned with the effort, yet relished the release as her spine finally loosened. The advancement of her physical core had left her remarkably refreshed, despite her initial disorientation and ensuing purge. The black filth she’d left behind in the moss disturbed her more than she’d care to admit, but she pushed it from her mind.

“This should make for a decent camp over the next few days,” Rhydian said, surveying the area with an air of approval.

“You won’t hear me complain about the view,” she said, curious as to what game might be found in these woods.

“Then you’re in good company,” he said.

“I still can’t believe how clear it is out here,” she admitted, “Every so often, the mists would leave the cities, but I can’t recall a single day where I could see more than a few dozen yards in any direction out in the forest.”

“I’m surprised you were able to find your way at all.”

Toying with her braid, she said, “I’ve always had a sort of sixth sense, even when I was a girl. Most Hounds do.”

That sense had been absent since she’d woken in the keep, but perhaps it was only dormant. It would return eventually, wouldn’t it?

“It’s likely a gift from your Adai heritage. Unless humans also possess cores?”

“I doubt it,” she said, “I’d never heard of them before I woke up in your keep. If they do have them, the purebloods haven’t seen fit to share the information. They tend to keep matters of magic to themselves.”

“Magic?” He asked, brow knit in confusion.

Inerys pursed her lips. “It’s similar to what you call rysk, I suppose. Unfortunately, I know next to nothing about either one. They may be one in the same.”

“We’ll remedy that when the time comes,” he promised, “Once your body is healed, we can work on unlocking that scary spirit of yours.”

She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to unleash the beast of a core, but she nodded. Then, a thought struck her.

“If humans don’t possess any cores, how can they use magic? Assuming it’s similar to rysk?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. We know next to nothing about the Endari Wilds. You’re the first thing to walk out of it that hasn’t been infected.”

“Infected?”

She watched as a muscle feathered along his jaw.

“The spiritual core . . . changes in those woods. It's one of the main reasons entering them is forbidden. The exact details of it are above my pay grade, but those who are foolish enough to enter the forest often never return. And those rare few who manage to are corrupted, somehow. Their rysk turns corrosive. Mistwatch’s main purpose is to safeguard the rest of the continent from infection. It's why we have a tendency to shoot first and ask questions later during out patrols.”

Goosebumps pricked her skin.

In all her time spent in those woods, never once had she seen anyone infected with anything. Aside from a cold, that is. If someone disappeared, they were gone and that was simply the end of it. She doubted anyone had ever been as fortunate as her.

“The woman who attacked me,” she began, “was she infected?”

“No, so far as we can tell. There was something off about her, to be sure, but we’re confident it had nothing to do with the Blight. She remains a mystery, as you do. With luck, we’ll have more answers once we meet our benefactor.”

“I feel more and more like an oddity each day,” she said.

“You’re a unique case, that much is clear,” he said, rubbing his chin a moment in thought. “Now that your physical core has advanced it's time we start training it alongside the rest of your body. I’ll show you a more efficient cycling technique once camp is made and come tomorrow evening, we’ll head out into the forest on foot."

“All right,” she said, wondering what this training would entail, “Is there anything I can help with, in the meantime?”

He shook his head. “We’ll have things well in hand between the four of us. Ayduin tells me there’s a stream nearby. I’ll have her take you to it. You’re in need of a proper bath after your purge.”

Inerys could have died from sheer mortification. Did she stink? Surely, she would have noticed, given the absurdity of her nose? Rhydian must have read the expression on her face, for he offered an apologetic smile. Behind him, Tanuzet sneezed and shook out her wings in confirmation.

“It’s not uncommon to go nose-blind in the hours following an advancement.”

“I – I see,” she managed, practically shaking in her embarrassment.