The forest loomed large across the road Kiri and Garon were following, swallowing the pavement in its shadows. The trunks of the trees rose tall and straight right out of the grassland and the road almost immediately disappeared as it entered the dense forest, hidden by the crowded trees. The sky above was blanketed in a broad layer of cloud, streaked with pinks and oranges. Behind them, the sun ducked below the covering clouds to cast its light across the land, glinting off the looming trees. The trunks were edged in sparkling luminosity in the last remnants of day beneath the darkening sky.
Kiri was so distracted, looking at the sunset-lit trees, that if her mare hadn’t had the wits to stop on her own she would’ve plowed straight into Garon as he brought his horse to a stop.
“It’s supposed to be here,” he said.
“What?” Kiri asked.
“The waystation,” Garon explained. “There’s supposed to be one just before the eaves of the forest.”
“Oh,” Kiri looked around as if it might suddenly appear. “Maybe it’s under the eaves of the forest, not before.”
“You must be right. This wood is so dense we won’t see it until we’re on it, if that’s the case.”
“Dense, but beautiful.”
“I guess.” Garon shrugged.
“I mean, it’s woods, those are always nice, right?” Kiri said. “But in this sunset-wow!”
Garon frowned at her over his shoulder. His eyes flicked over her to the colorful sunset and he shrugged, then turned back ahead and urged his horse on.
How he couldn’t be at least a little interested by the vibrant colors, Kiri couldn’t imagine. She stared as she drew nearer to the trees. They seemed edged in the orange of the sunset’s glow. It was as eerie as it was beautiful. And they almost seemed to be getting brighter, even as the sun’s light should be fading.
“You really don’t think this is beautiful?” she demanded of Garon. “This glow? It’s amazing.”
“What glow?”
“The way the light-” Kiri stopped as she spotted what looked like a heap of vegetation at the edge of the trees, some little way from the road. It was a strange shape. Kiri guessed it was probably a fallen massive old log, covered in years of new growth. All on its own away from the other trees, and low enough it should have been in shadow, Kiri suddenly realized the glow could not be from the setting sun. She pulled her horse alongside Garon’s and pointed.
“Look at that!” she said. “I guess now we know why it’s called the Brightwood.”
Garon stared right where she was pointing, looked back at her and back at it, and shook his head. “What are you talking about?”
“You can’t be serious, Garon.” Kiri put her arm down. “It’s glowing.”
“What is?”
“Well, the whole wood,” Kiri said. “But especially right there!” She pointed again and again Garon shook his head.
“Am I imagining this?” Kiri said. “That is not just the sun. It’s getting brighter, and look! The sun has actually set now.”
Garon glanced over his shoulder to check that she was correct. He stared at the wood for a while this time before shaking his head again.
“You can’t miss it,” Kiri said.
“You can’t. I swear, nothing in that wood is bright to me. It’s getting dark over there.”
“I’m not imagining it,” Kiri said, half to reassure herself. “Why would I?”
“You aren’t,” Garon said. “You’re not that kind of crazy. Maybe it’s a magic Eldan thing.”
“Oh, good. Those turn out great.”
“Never do,” Garon agreed. “I don’t want to get a step closer, but-”
“We have to,” Kiri finished for him. “Eldan stuff is what we’re here for, right? Let’s go check it out.”
“You’ll have to lead the way. I can’t see it.”
“Right.” Kiri moved in front of him. “So, uh, what kind of crazy am I?”
~
The glowing heap was plants growing, not out of a fallen log, but the tumbled remains of what must once have been the waystation Garon had been looking for. The lumber, though broken to bits, bore the clear signs of having been cut and smoothed by human tools. The ordinary decay of the forest doesn’t leave such smooth sides or clean cuts. Along with the lumber there were piles of stone, much of it with crumbling mortar still clinging. The whole pile was overgrown with vines, and there were even a few saplings growing up through the cracks. And all of it--the stones, the lumber, the mortar, and the covering vegetation, all of it--glowed to Kiri’s eyes.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“It’s not good, but it doesn’t look like magic,” Garon said. “The waystation must have burned down years ago.”
“It doesn’t look normal to me,” Kiri said. “All glowing. And why do you say it burned down?”
“I don’t think it just fell into disrepair,” Garon said. “From what we’ve seen, the waystations are well-maintained. Burning down makes sense to me. Travelers might be able to make small repairs, but in order to rebuild it someone would have to bring a lot of supplies out here. I’m surprised it’s gone this many years without being fixed. You’d think one of the lords, or even the king, would take responsibility for rebuilding it.”
“How many years do you think it’s been?” Kiri asked.
“Well, I don’t know how fast these trees grow,” Garon said. “But at least three, I’d say.”
“I wonder why you didn’t hear about it,” Kiri said. “It would’ve been nice to know we’d be staying one night in the open.”
“Don’t worry,” Garon said, hefting his pack to draw her attention to it. “I came prepared.”
~
The trees creaked in the night. Laying on the ground in her bedroll in the open air, Kiri felt no wind. But still they creaked. The only creatures she saw were an occasional bat or owl flying past, visible as much by the stars winking out in their silhouettes as anything else in the black night, but she heard rustling in the undergrowth all around their makeshift camp. The trees and all the plants still glowed to Kiri’s eyes, a fact that bothered her, but seemed not to be troubling Garon at all. He was curled on his side in his own bedroll beside her, only his hair visible above the covers. He slept soundly, and Kiri closed her eyes to shut out the eerie glow and tried to follow his example.
~
“We’ll have to clear it,” Garon declared, clapping his hand on the back of the fresh-fallen tree that blocked the road. His horse had balked at jumping it. The idea that it might make the leap had been wishful thinking anyway. The log itself was thick enough, but the protruding limbs, still bearing their leaves,glowing leaves reached high above Garon’s head. Kiri doubted any horse could jump it.
“We could just strike north for the old road now, can’t we?” Kiri asked. “We have to eventually, right?”
“We shouldn’t head north until we reach the part of the road that runs by the river. We’ll get lost if we try to make up our own way to get there.”
With a resigned sigh, Kiri slid down from her old mare’s back and stretched. Her whole body ached, whether from fatigue and lack of sleep, or stiffness from laying on the ground, she wasn’t sure. She reached down and laid her hands on the ground to stretch her back. When she straightened back up, Garon was staring at her.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Garon said. “Do you have an axe in your bag?”
“An axe?” Kiri’s eyebrows shot up. “Do you see an axe? How big do you think my bag is?”
“A hatchet, then.” Garon dug into his own bag and brought one out. “I’ve got one.”
“Sorry, you’re still more prepared than me,” Kiri said. She stood by her mare for a few moments, kicking at the dirt while she watched Garon hack at the tree. This was going to take a while. She tipped her head back and looked up into the trees. The criss-crossing branches, all tinged to Kiri’s eyes with glowing light, almost completely obscured the sky. She wondered if it seemed dark here to Garon. Without the bewitching light the name Brightwood must surely seem a misnomer for such a dense woodland. She listened to the rhythmic thunks of Garon’s hatchet biting into the tree, but slowly that sound faded into the background of the forest. She could pick out the sounds of the stirring of the leaves in the wind far above, the movements of small creatures, moving hidden about the wood, and somewhere nearby, the gurgle of moving water.
“Garon,” Kiri said, looking back at him.
He left the blade in the tree as it fell again and turned to her. “Want a turn?”
“Maybe in a little while,” she said. “I don’t think I’d be as good at it as you. But I’m useless here. I think there’s a creek near here. How about I’ll go water the horses? Maybe I’ll find a way around while I’m at it. We’re going to be at this all day.”
The wedge Garon had cut into the tree thus far went less than a tenth of the way through the trunk. He glanced at it, then frowned at Kiri. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to split up.”
“I won’t go far,” Kiri promised.
“Ok.” Garon unhooked his water flask from his belt and handed it over for filling. Kiri hooked it on her belt beside her own.
She took Garon’s horse’s reins and guided it to the opposite side of her own. It wasn’t quite as docile as her own mare, who followed along disinterestedly as Kiri led it off the path. Garon’s, clearly thinking Kiri had made a mistake, tried to head back to the path several times before yielding to Kiri. Orienting on the sound of water, Kiri led the horses on. She had to take a meandering path. There were many spaces between trees too small for two horses side by side, and Kiri wasn’t sure she knew how to rope them together so they would actually move single-file. She made a mental note to ask Garon about it. No doubt he knew. He’d dealt with horses a lot in his father’s mill. Kiri, as a shopkeeper’s daughter turned barmaid turned scribe, only had experiences with a few short rides. She’d been on a horse more in the last few days than in the rest of her life put together. It was nice to be walking on her own two feet, even if she did have to drag these two along. The sound of the creek picked up as they neared it, enough that the horses must have noticed, because suddenly Kiri wasn’t dragging them anymore, struggling instead to keep her footing on the mossy ground as they surged forward.
The little group, Kiri and the two horses, drew up moments later at a clear stream of water. It was flowing clear and clean over a carpet of mosses and polished rocks. Kiri had to backpedal and pull herself back to keep from falling in, but the horses stopped in exactly the right place. By the time Kiri had recovered herself, they were both drinking thirstily.
Kiri moved a little upstream of the two horses, letting their reins dangle. They seemed unlikely to run away and probably wouldn’t get far in this dense wood anyway. She uncapped her water flask and immersed it in the water. It was surprisingly warm, nearly as warm as her own skin. Kiri wished it had been cool. She didn’t like the idea of only having warm water to turn to after a hot shift cutting that huge log. She swallowed a little, grimacing at the temperature and immersed it one more time to fill it back up before capping it. She hooked it back on her belt, then unhooked Garon’s. She took off the cap and pushed it into the water.
Her hand still holding the bottle under, Kiri looked up and down the little stream. Downstream, it quickly disappeared between the trees, but upstream it went straight enough she could see for quite a few yards. To Kiri’s surprise there was a band of moss in the streambed in that direction glowing extra brightly, much more brightly than she had seen yet. Flicking her eyes back and forth, she saw that this brightness tracked into the trees in each direction. It wasn’t the trees glowing brightly, but the mossy, leafy ground. Kiri checked on the horses as she straightened up. They still seemed interested in the stream. It was probably safe to leave them for a moment. Kiri edged along the stream toward the glowing area. It proved not to be just beside the stream, but to stretch out in both directions, although the trees were so thick the light was quickly lost among them. Kiri had assumed it was the plants that were glowing, but once she reached the light she found that it was not the plants, but stones, fitted tightly together, lining the ground, which were giving off the glowing light. She had found the Eldan road. She was sure of it. Kiri ran back to the horses. She couldn’t wait to tell Garon he could stop cutting that tree.