We walked and walked, and kept walking. My hip ached with it even if I had to admit that the numbing treatment Sid had given me helped with the pain. Morgan’s treatments had also helped my ankle. Now it didn’t even feel tender despite the exercise I was putting it through.

We traveled down and up hills, over knotted tree roots and across creeks. More outcroppings of rock and odd boulders popped up that we had to skirt around. Now that we were nearly two weeks into our search for the Rookery, impatience started to take a toll along with the tension already causing trouble for our disjointed group. Despite feeling the need to get there now, before the First Flurry, before the other group, everyone was slowing down from exhaustion. We didn’t walk up the hills as fast or always keep our feet from stumbling over roots and water.

Sid did what he could to help, but there was only so much he could do with the supplies he had and the limited tolerance everyone had for being “healed”. The energy bursts from a couple different concoctions he gave us weren’t true healing, not according to my training, but the temporary effects did help us keep up with Fern’s punishing pace and were enough to get Ulo twitchy about getting too much life.

I wasn’t sure if Fern was trying to drive one of us into taking charge again or if this was her revenge for most of the group not listening and pulling everyone deeper into the festerling mess. Or perhaps she just wanted to be free of us as soon as possible.

Either way, as soon as we stepped into the part of the woodland that all the birds insisted only stupid birds entered and saw something towering in the distance we headed right for it. We were finally within the Big Wings territory and it stood to reason that giant birds would nest in something tall.

As we got closer to the looming rock it became clear that no large birds were roosting on it, but Fern didn’t mutter anything about wasting time, so we kept going. Even dragging with exhaustion, we couldn’t resist the lure to see what it might be up close.

It didn’t take long for it to resolve into the shape of a statue. Head tilted up to the sky and wreathed in something that caught the sunlight. Hands outstretched and cupped in front of her chest.

Nothing in my memory hinted at one of the Beloved’s trials being in the area, but the statue reminded me of the ones in Flickermark. It had the same presence as them, the same significance. Unease twisted in my belly at the comparison. The goddess’s work rarely boded well for others.

The trees opened up onto a ridge that seemed a little too perfectly placed for viewing the statue without branches and pine needles getting in the way. Fern hung back as we moved to the ridge’s edge to take in the statue that rose above the woodland.

I wasn’t the only one who drew in a sharp breath.

The statue wasn’t of Her Beloved like I had assumed. Like practically all of the statues I had seen or heard of.

But that didn’t mean I didn’t recognize the figure.

Enough bits and pieces of the ancient myths and legends remained. The rumors and whispers barely spoken during the sun’s highest point of the one the Beloved left.

Hair like liquid glass, golden and copper like searing sunlight, braided into a crown on her head and woven with wheat. Wide antlers like a stag curled over her head from her temples. The statue’s body was gray stone, but I knew that in reality her skin was a myriad of pastel colors, each one blending into the next until you were dizzy with them. A dress of interwoven suncrest vines draped over her body and upper arms before it split in the front over her crossed legs to trail across the large open clearing the statue occupied. Had the statue been real life, the bright orange flowers would have stood out more against the deep green of the vines as they accentuated her full figure, but the gray on gray of the statue dulled the contrast. In the statue’s cupped hands was a harp, strings shivering in the wind.

And one half of the statue had been decimated. Crumbled into a pile of rubble at its base and, possibly, blown all across the woodland if the boulders we came across were any indication. Instead of being cupped safely, the harp hovered on the edge on a long drop.

Azabel, the goddess’s sister and first betrayer.

The one who molded humanity from mud and salt, and breathed their first breath.

I stiffened as a long, deep note moaned through the air from the harp. Music in the goddess’s territory when it wasn’t the Heartsong Festival or Echoes’ sticks—it set my teeth on edge.

Why was the statue of another goddess, ruined or otherwise, even doing in Heliquat’s territory?

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“Don’t go near the statue.” I looked back at Fern as she continued to speak, “A corpse gorger has taken up residence there.”

We all shivered in understanding, though Breck looked a bit tempted to try her luck against the nightmarish creature. Most animals were smart enough to leave shamble men alone as they crossed the goddess’s territory to the closest Grove, but some were dumb enough, desperate enough, that they attacked the walking corpses. No one was sure why the goddess withstood the insult, but it was said that the animals were transformed as soon as their teeth bit into the shamble men’s flesh. Blood boiling black and too many mouths and obscene growth. The animals that survived the transformation became corpse gorgers, bound to defend the spot where they induced the shamble men’s second death and cursed with boundless hunger. They feasted on every creature that came within their reach, living or dead. More than one myth ended with the morbid warning that dying to the creature gave the strength of your body to the corpse gorger and your soul to the Ever Dark.

Ulo asked, “The Beastwatchers haven’t cleaned it out?”

Fern shook her head, frustration briefly creasing her face. “I heard they lost a couple teams to it. It’s old and it keeps getting stronger.”

No one was dumb enough to presume the goddess’s preferences out loud, but I doubted I was the only one who wondered if She liked having such a creature desecrating Her sister’s statue.

Juniper asked my earlier question, “Why is the statue here?”

Fern shrugged. “I think I heard it’s from before the Era of Night, but no one can be sure.”

Nii crossed her arms. “Why even show us the statue? It has nothing to do with our mission.”

I caught quick smile on Colm’s face from where he stood next to the Sapling as Fern clearly took delight in having the upper hand even as she pretended nonchalance.

“It’s…not an official part of the mission, but the groups that make it to the top of the statue and bring back glass chips from her hair are…thought well of.”

Breck looked like she was starting to picture battering her way through the corpse gorger, so I was glad when Wren cut in with a frown. “You just said to keep away from the statue.”

“You can’t see it from here, but one of the goddess’s trees is growing from its head, on the crumpled side,” Fern said. “You can walk the shadow paths to it without entering the corpse gorger’s territory.”

“We don’t know how to walk between different shadows,” Wren again.

Fern smiled at her, but it wasn’t particularly friendly. “Then you learn or we move on. It’s your choice.”

It was a fool’s choice. We had already been out on our mission for nearly two weeks and if the goddess decided to bring the First Flurry early we could only have about a week left to find the Rookery. Of course, if She was in a waiting mood we could have two or three weeks left before the beginning of the cold season.

And the stink of dissatisfied failure clung to us. If we accomplished reaching the top of the statue it was something that we could point to if we were asked what we had done, rather than just getting rescued by a hunter squad. I wasn’t sure what “being thought well of” would do for us, but I could taste the craving in the back of my throat for that sense of accomplishment. Especially with the way our group had been breaking over the last handful of days.

Nor could we deny the need for rest. Even if we only took a couple days to practice traveling the shadow paths that would give us the rest we needed to push on at a good pace to find the Rookery.

The threat of time and the threat of mediocrity. That was the choice.

Fern fixed her gaze on Juniper. “They made you leader. Choose what path your group will follow.”

Juniper started, and, surprisingly, I saw her gaze flick to me.

Fern caught the glance too and her look became more stern. “You choose.”

Juniper’s expression hardened as she lifted her chin. “Statue.”

Fern didn’t give away whether that was the answer she wanted or not. “Follow me then.”

Ulo interrupted before she could take a step. “I thought you weren’t supposed to lead us.”

Fern only partially turned toward her. “Don’t waste my time.”

That shut the other girl up and I had to fight not to let my lips twitch up into a smile.

Fern took us in a wide arch around the corpse gorger’s territory. It took most of the rest of the day as we were still moving slow, and, despite knowing the monster shouldn’t come after us, we moved as carefully and quietly as we could. No need to tempt it with a small feast of flesh if we didn’t have to.

We ended up in another odd clearing, though it was much smaller than the one that held the statue. This clearing wasn’t entirely empty either. It had two…odd pine trees. Large chunks of the pine needles had turned a vibrant yellow rather than the usual green. The yellow was too strong for the change of color that happened to some pine needles during the warm season, too. These pine needles looked like the statue’s glass hair.

Fern gestured to the trees. “These were planted from the tree growing from the statue. The connection should help you connect the shadows.”

I looked up at the distant tree we could now see on the statue. Its roots had dug into the broken rock and the back of the head. I had no idea how it was surviving without soil or a clear source of water, but if it was goddess made then there was little point questioning it.

Wren eyed the odd colored trees warily. “Are you sure they’re safe?”

Fern drew in a long breath before letting it out. “Yes.” And then, “We don’t leave until your leader makes the decision.”

I glared at her for that announcement. It felt entirely too much like Jin’s forceful lessons about teamwork and with how broken the group had become, I wasn’t sure we could reach whatever conclusion she was pressing us for before we missed our deadline. Of course, all Juniper had to do was announce that we were done here and we would move on, but with the way she had been acting I wasn’t sure I could trust her to make the logical decision anymore.

Fern settled against one of the trees ringing the clearing with the air of someone who wouldn’t even move for the Warming Winds while Colm began to set up camp. We followed his example and got our tents set up before we set our sights on the shadows spreading out under the two trees while he made the evening meal.

It was time to see if I had magically gotten better at shadow walking from the few times I had done it on our journey.