The path between trees had them headed in a different direction each day, and with each new direction came a new part of Marwood's life told in mostly ignored day-long speeches. Of all of them besides Iona, Jessa was the most interested by the stories, but only because after a day of talking Marwood had broken out his drink to soothe his throat, and offered to share it around. Jessa became very friendly, then, laughing beautifully, flaunting her hair more than was required. Iona did not seem approving of that.

Lloyd's questions punctuated the day, posed almost exclusively to Redmun. Yet once he'd exhausted his curiosity about Possessors, he would ask questions about the world in general, as if he were experiencing it for the first time. Redmun supposed the boy was, having been in Hollow's Grove all his life. That place was little more than a series of villages in a dark wood. The rest of the Forsaken Continent would be a shock to the boy's system. Redmun tried to answer each of the questions with as much careful tact as possible, giving the boy an education and a lesson both on the world. With Jessa busy smiling Marwood out of his wine, that left only Dren to accompany Lloyd and him. With the other three lagging behind, Redmun was the first to spot Gelstadt's trail.

He threw out a hand. “Stop.” Dren's horse pulled up beside him, and together they ventured out to investigate the trail, leaving behind the sled. Jessa followed. A sunken stretch of earth marked Gelstadt's passage. Parts were a single, dragging line, others showed as distinguishable footsteps. That same shifting stench rose from it. “This is its trail,” Redmun said. We must have come too far north. Don't touch it.”

“What is this stuff?” Dren asked, though mildly. He knelt beside it, took a piece of grass from beneath his feet, and threw it onto the mass. It was consumed in a second. “What are you following boy? What are we following?”

“What is it?” Marwood asked from afar. Iona looked stricken, but she sat straight in her saddle, like a commander on a hill, overlooking the battle-to-be.

Redmun followed the trail's direction, saw it veering up to the north-east. How long had it been since Gelstadt passed through here? A day? Less? The ground was sunken in a good inch, but it wasn't as if Redmun had any idea what that meant. He couldn't see his father…

Gelstadt… What are you doing?

“Well?” Dren repeated.

Redmun turned to face the man. The family had moved up, still staying wearily behind their protector.

“We're not sure.”

Marwood dismounted, inching towards it, giving it a sniff. “Foul!” he flinched back, almost stumbling. “What on earth is that smell?”

“Well, it's called the Walking Corruption,” Jessa said with a distant smile. How drunk was she? “So I imagine this is what corruption smells like.”

“It's not headed north, son,” Dren said. Redmun looked up at the man. There was distinct accusation in his tone.

“I noticed,” he muttered. Perhaps it was a mistake to have lied, but it was too late now. Redmun rubbed at his chest absentmindedly, feeling the tingling of burning on his fingers. The Evil had been quiet, lately… “I don't know what h… it's doing.”

“Foul,” Marwood said, holding his nose in pinched fingers. “Plenty of foulness going about lately. Evil's all stirred up like I've never seen nor heard of.” He gave a sad shake of the head. “Bad business.”

“What?” Redmun asked. “What Evils are stirred up?”

“Well that's part of why we left Hollow's Grove,” Marwood said, then suddenly became defensive. “But I've not reached that part of the story.”

“Humour them, man,” Dren grunted, his voice snapping through the air. Marwood looked up to the Possessor, wrapping his arms around himself

“Well… Fine. Just that the Evils of Hollow's Grove weren't acting right. Asking more and more of folk, and not answering their calls. Made living in the place right uncomfortable it did!”

“Asking for what things, Master Liabir?” Jessa asked.

“Well.” He blew a snort of air through his nose, frowning at the ground. Redmun took hold of Lloyd's reins and began to carefully guide the beast through the gaps in the trail. They had to keep moving. Seeing that Marwood hopped back onto his horse, though his wife had to guide the man's horse through as he huffed and harrumphed. “I'm not used to telling these things out of order!”

“We know, dear,” Iona offered in her ever-soothing voice. “Please try.” No doubt the good woman could tell all this herself, Lloyd as well, but they looked almost to be mourning.

“Yes, yes. Very well!” the man said with offended gestures. “Just give me a few moments to gather myself.”

Safely past the trail they continued on their trek while Marwood made his exasperated sounds. The rest of the day's journey passed in silence save for the winds, the cries of some creatures above, and the mutterings of Marwood. It was only when night had fallen, and they'd already started a fire beneath the next Great Tree that the man finally roused from his stupor.

“Very well. I suppose-”

“Hang on,” Jessa said. She reached into her bag, pulled out a waterskin, and took a drink. Wine dripped down the side of her mouth. She wiped it away from the back of her hand and sighed, leaning back. “Okay, go.”

Lloyd returned from riffling through their own sacks, and took a seat by Redmun with half a loaf of bread. He offered part of it to Redmun with a smile, and Redmun took it with a smile of his own.

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“Well,” Marwood said, glaring at the flames. “I suppose this trouble with the Authority started near-on three years ago. For no reason that any of us knew their demands came quicker, and they want… more. Usually they'd ask for whatever they liked – one month a few cattle, the next the dismantling of a certain house, the next the building of a well. Ornery creatures, those Authority. Not that you'd hear me say that anywhere near Hollow's Grove. Well, things progressed. Near on two years ago now – one of their messengers – they use birds, you know? – came. An order to abandon an entire village.” He looked about with a taken-aback expression, no doubt expecting similar reactions. It quickly turned to a frown when he received no such feedback. “Just like that. Abandon an entire village! Absurd! Yet we did it. Cannot betray our benefactors, can we? So, we move on, abandoning our homes to settle where we were told. Not such a big thing for a wealthy man such as myself, though some of the others struggle somewhat. We helped one another out, and life goes on. Next tribute demand comes along, and it's nothing more than a few hours of work, digging in an old mine. Mundanity itself.”

“The month after rolls around, and we've all settled back into our routines. Construction still under-way for our new homes, but life is back to the way it was.” Marwood paused, looking grim. Lloyd turned up at Redmun, looking worried.

“Yes?” Redmun asked.

“Perhaps Possessors like you know this, but we did not, when we first arrived at Hollow's Grove. The Authority there… it never asks for things lightly. It always has a purpose. When we first arrived, one of the first tributes was that we, meaning my wife and I, give up an heirloom. We only had one – a golden-encrusted hunting dagger, given to my wife's ancestor by old Emelia herself. We were told to throw it in the swamp. Despite its priceless nature, we did, and nothing came of it. Not for six years, that is, until some couple found it. It is a story for another time, but that knife ended up in the chest of our Mayor, a greed-filled scandal that we only heard about when it was too late.”

Redmun nodded. The Evil-Lords of Hollow's Grove always had a reason, some long game they were playing, as most intelligent Evils did. Whether for a purpose, or just for amusement, no-one knew. No-one was allowed to see the things or make new Pacts with them. All those who had were dead, though their Pacts remained.

“We have a code in the Grove, see. When you have a bunch of who-knows-what asking strange things of you, it's best to not allow such things to get between neighbors. When the time comes for you to pay your part, you pay it. No question. That's how things worked for years, and we got along just fine. Because the thing's never asked too much, at least not that we knew of. Yet these new demands… The first came, and it was that Old Prestor cut off his hands and give them to the swamp. Old Prestor's a carpenter, one of the few we had. Lost his hands, and his life was over, his family destitute and dependent on the rest of us.”

“Yet, despite it all, we all shored up our courage, resolved to help him through this dark time. The deed was done. Done, but not over with. The… stumps became infected quick. With a sickness that just didn't seem to want to leave. It dragged the once spry old man down, making him weak and feeble in just a few short weeks. He… passed, just before the month was out.”

“Meggy was distraught,” Iona said with a shake of her head.

“On the heels of the poor man's death came the next demand: that the new Mayor himself be stripped nude, walked through the street, and stoned. But not killed. Well, once more the deed was done, without the children there of course. Mayor took it as well as he could, I suppose, except...”

Iona rested her hand on her husband's arm. “Mayor thought, for some reason, that Marwood hit harder than most. As if Marwood had a grudge against him or something. He took on a grudge of his own, denouncing him behind our backs, saying terrible things.”

“Claimed I planted that dagger for the old Mayor on purpose.” Marwood rubbed at his face, giving a very grim expression into the fire before him. “Madness…”

“Really?” Dren asked, sounding a little too inquisitive for the mood. “Town bonds in Hollow's Grove are legendary. Why would the Mayor go being all petty like that?”

“I don't know, sir,” Marwood said. Iona began to wring her hands on her skirts. Marwood pulled her close. Lloyd began to fidget, poking at the earth half-heartedly. “But after that, things got worse still. The strange requests continued, asking far, far too much. Over the next few months all our neighbors suffered loss. Mason's son lost his sight. Deardry, next door, had to throw her husband's ashes in the swamp, and spit on them. Then the Mayor's time came 'round once more. He was told to go out to meet them, the Authority, in their mountain.”

Jessa spat. “That's a death sentence.”

“So it is. But we all did our part – that was the town code – so he went. We all sent him off in the morning, and despite the accusations and harsh looks of the past, we shook hands and parted as friends, knowing it may well be for the last time.” A pause, punctuated by the crackling of the fire. Redmun supposed he ought to feel hungry, but he couldn't imagine eating right then. “The Mayor returned that night, unharmed, but…” His lips pursed, his hands wrung tight, nervous. “The looks he gave me. I swear, if he'd a knife then, I've no doubt he'd have lunged for my throat. Told us nothing of his visit, almost pretended it never happened. But from the moment he stepped back from those mountains, there was hate there, so intense as I've never seen before.”

“After that, a few months followed where, once more, our neighbours bore the brunt of our sacrifices, giving up their livelihoods or wealth or wellbeing for the sake of our community, while we had to give nothing. Even if the Mayor had not been all but instigating my lynching, ill feelings would have been abound.”

Marwood looked to his wife, hesitation on his lips. “That was when our turn finally came,” he said, his voice straining with pain. Beside Redmun, Lloyd curled up into himself. Iona's hand moved briefly towards her stomach, and stopped. “We were with child, see. None knew but us, but when the demand came… our child. We... did it. Ourselves, as we were told. We murdered our child to save our community, to show them that we were not the fiends they portrayed us as, so that our boy might live.” There was real hurt in his voice now, a pain he still struggled with. He gave a firm, angry nod. “We gave our child, and hoped that was that.” He looked at Lloyd. “But the next month, the exact same tribute was demanded. Our child.”

“They came to our door.” Iona spoke, her voice grating against fury. “Demanding Lloyd. To give to those monsters in the swamp. They called us liars and thieves and cowards for refusing. I told them that we had already given our child, that the blood was still on our hands. We couldn't give up our Lloyd, too.” Her lip quivered as tears began to fall, and she motioned for Lloyd. The boy rushed to his mother, resting against her side.

Marwood shifted closer to his family, putting his arm around them. “We left soon after that.”

Redmun sat back, looking at the family before him. These chatty, friendly, welcoming three. It was awe-inspiring, that they could maintain such an outlook after a tale like that. Redmun felt lucky to be in their presence.

“That is… disturbing,” Jessa said, and Redmun nodded. Like Marwood had said, the Authority of Hollow's Grove had always been conniving. That had been both their strength and weakness, for it made living in their realm possible, if difficult, even as it meant none could understand their machinations. For their requests to be so bluntly demanding, for their scheming to be so obvious was strange, and worrying. To Redmun it seemed that they must have been wringing as much out of that little community as they could, while they still had the chance.