Green Rider

“You mean my moonstone?”

“Yes, your moonstone. You have been touched by the light of Laurelyn. It makes you a friend of the Elt Wood, though our king cares little for your kind.”

“It was a gift,” Karigan said, a little defensively.

“And a worthy one. As is this.” He held in his palm, a tiny white petal. With a clear ringing laugh, he tossed it into the air and it might have vanished, but to Karigan, it seemed to become a star. She couldn’t hold on any longer, and as she slipped again into slumber, Somial said, “Your wounds were grave, the poison is still within you, but you shall be well soon. Do not fear the night or the creatures within. We shall watch over you, Karigan of Sacoridia, till you have regained the strength to continue your endeavor.”

“Can you take my message to Sacor City?” she asked in a groggy whisper.

“Your path lies long and dark,” came the quiet reply. He brushed damp hair from her forehead. “But you’ve the will and strength, and the muna’riel. Laurelyn’s light can shatter the strength of the dark powers. Yours is not our mission, youngling. We seldom venture where humankind dwells.”

“Youngling . . .” she protested.

“Though I am young among my folk at nigh on two hundred years, you are younger still.” He kissed her forehead, a gesture that reminded her of her mother, and as she slipped into oblivion, she thought she heard him say, “May Laurelyn light your way.”

Karigan drifted off and did not know how long she slept, and though the sleep was deep and healing, she was always aware of the rhythm of the music. The Eletians watched over her, and thus reassured, her sleep was peaceful.

When she did awaken, the clearing was awash in the glow of late morning sunshine. Experimentally she moved each limb. Her right leg was still sore, and when she inspected her ankle, it was bruised black. There were numerous purple marks on her legs where the hatchlings had stung her, but the swelling was gone and the marks were not very painful.

Her wrists were wrapped in a gauzy material where the creature’s blood had burned her. In all, she felt as anyone else coming out of illness: weak but renewed, and grateful to be well.

There was no sign of Somial or any other Eletians in the area. They had tended her wounds well. She lay on her bedroll wrapped in her blanket, her head pillowed on the greatcoat, just as she had slept so many nights during her journey. Maybe Somial and the Eletians had been dreams, but her tended wounds proved otherwise.

Nearby, The Horse’s tack and her packs lay on the ground, and beside them, the unsheathed saber which glared in the sun. Someone had cleaned it of black blood. She shivered as she remembered that night, and wondered how many nights had since passed.

A loud rattling of branches on the outskirts of the clearing made her heart leap. She took up the saber expecting another creature to attack her, but relaxed when The Horse emerged from the trees. She staggered to her feet and limped over to meet him halfway across the clearing. When she saw no evidence of his sting wound, she wrapped her arms around his neck. He nickered softly.

“Never thought I’d be so happy to see you, you stubborn old horse.”

Karigan lingered another day and night in the clearing trying to regain the old strength that still eluded her. There was no trace of the Eletians, though when she slept, she could still feel the rhythm of their silent song.

AMBUSHED

The world beyond the clearing was oppressive. Biters swarmed in clouds about Karigan and The Horse, stealing away any pleasure they might have found in the budding of wildflowers, and the trills of warblers recently arrived from the south. Deciduous trees, few and far between the spiky sun-stealing spruces, strained to open their leaves.

The weather alternated from cold damp to summerlike heat and heavy humidity. Karigan opted to wear the greatcoat often despite the heat as her only defense against the biters. The cuffs were all burned through and tattered from her confrontation with the creature of Kanmorhan Vane. Still, it offered a sense of security.

They cantered long on the road as much to outpace the biters as to make up ground. The Horse’s gait was tireless, his tail whisking behind as they loped along. Whether it was relief from biters or a sense of spring that drove him, it was hard to say. For all their speed, they were no less cautious in covering their tracks, for she knew Immerez and his men still sought her and the message she carried.

If they were cautious on the road, they were equally cautious off. No longer did they blindly follow deer trails to find a campsite. Karigan chided herself over and over for ever having done so in the first place. Following deer trails at dusk was like walking into a predator’s trap. Encountering the creature of Kanmorhan Vane at what was suppertime for most predators had been no mistake. Who was to say some bear or catamount, equally as dangerous, wasn’t waiting at the end of some other deer trail for an easy meal?

Between Immerez and the creature, Karigan felt like prey in more ways than one.

After a week of swift travel, she began to find signs of human habitation. Though the road had in no way improved, it was grooved with wagon wheels and hoofprints, all recent. Every so often, travelers rode or walked down the road, and she and The Horse concealed themselves in the woods and watched those who passed by.

There were grim men with thick beards and broad shoulders dressed in buckskin, their horses or mules burdened with pelts. Merchants in bright garb sat on wagons laden with goods. Though they were not nearly as prosperous looking as the leading merchant clans of Sacoridia, they were heavily armed and guarded, their cargo masters casting stern expressions over the road.