Confusion ruffled Echo’s feathers as the battered remnants of the Sitrian company approached Lake Stryngine. Water spanned as far as she could see. Not an unusual sight for someone who grew up in Clearwater Cove, but the smell was just wrong.
As deep and dark as any sea, Lake Stryngine—“Blackest Waters” in the native dialect—was devoid of that familiar salty tang of Echo’s homeland within the Spine Archipelago. Her senses refused to accept its existence. Certainty screamed it was the work of an illusionist. There couldn’t possibly be so much fresh water in the whole of the world.
Settling into the cart, the duchess resigned herself to yet another nap. One of the few things she could do on the trip.
“How much further?” she absently muttered to Mira.
“Not long, my lady,” said Mira. “We should see it soon. Actually.” The knight straightened. “There it is.”
Rising to join her, Echo welcomed the change of scenery.
Disappointment pricked at her features as the city came into view.
Echo wondered at tales of the continent’s wonders. Her imagination danced with images of the vertical palace gardens of Evandesk. The vast fortifications of Dracothorn. The mighty walled rings of Magoria, capital of the Arcane Empire of Arcanal. She couldn’t count how many times she’d dreamt of the hundred saber-like towers of Cloud Shield eyrie.
And then there was Sitri…
Neither the largest nor grandest city in the world, Welmin’s capital sat upon a natural bay on Lake Stryngine. The endless stream of ships traveling in and out of port was such a familiar sight to the zephyra noblewoman, but that smell, or lack thereof, still struck her as wrong.
Wealthy from trade, it was far from apparent on visual inspection. There were no great wonders. No spires that scratched the heavens. No opulent palaces or sprawling gardens. Even its defenses were limited to wooden palisades and hewn stone walls no more than ten feet at the city’s portcullises.
Sitri was a city of function over form. Squat, half-buried buildings with sharply peaked roofs to withstand the biting cold and driving snow of winter comprised the majority of the capital. If not for the castle and adjoining garrison, it looked more like an overgrown fishing village than the seat of a proper kingdom.
Face contorting, she turned to Mira. Surely she jests, she assured herself. But as her eyes fell upon her knight’s quivering lips, she summoned up her noble politesse to conceal her disappointment.
Joy sparkled in Mira’s eye as she drank in the city, tears slipping from beneath her stoic façade.
It was no grand wonder, but for that one zephyra, it was home.
Bells rang out at the company’s approach. A flurry of movement raced across the ramparts as soldiers took position.
“It’s Sir Kaelen!” one guard shouted out. “Raise the portcullis!”
“Kaelen!?” came another in response. “But he’s just left!”
“I’m telling you! It’s him and—wait. Is that…”
“What? What is it!?”
“He’s brought the bloody Hurricane back!”
“The Hurricane? You don’t mean—”
“Hurricane Mira!”
As fast as they manned the battlements, they descended. Echo’s brow pinched at the sounds beyond the walls. Chaos. Fear. Hurried footfalls of men preparing for disaster. People shouting to, “Alert the fire brigade.”
“So why do they call you the Hurricane, anyway?” said Healer.
“Because she blows through a battlefield like a whirlwind, of course,” said Rosalie.
The sharp clop of Kaelen’s horse drew next to them. “Oh, she doesn’t reserve that for any specific place, little one…”
At a loss, Echo couldn’t help herself. “Mira dear, what’s he on about?”
“Oh, my gods, Kay-Kay, really?” Mira rolled her eyes. “I had a couple tiny accidents, and they just won’t let me live it down.”
“A couple?! Tiny?!” Kaelen balked. “We’re still rebuilding the library!”
Mira hung her head. “I said I was sorry…”
Sighing to himself, the knight raised his hand to acknowledge the captain of the watch.
“Stay close,” Kaelen continued. “We’re making straight for the garrison.”
Healer guided the mule cart through the gates, hunching double to pass beneath the portcullis. Following close to Kaelen, the frenzy that greeted them swiftly died at the knight’s grim expression and beleaguered state of his forces. It was clear to all this sudden return was not victorious.
“Come on, Mir-Mir,” Kaelen muttered as they halted within the garrison. “Captain Theris will want to hear about this.”
Nodding to him, Mira dismounted the cart. Her wings tucked to her back, squeezing down so tight she could easily be mistaken for an ordinary human woman, she marched next to the human knight.
Echo’s feathers fluffed. Mira hadn’t said a word since they’d entered the city. In fact, she didn’t seem at all herself. She sat straighter. Her jaw tensed and released. Even her hair seemed to sit flatter.
There was a heavy groan as Healer followed her down and fell in behind her.
Mira stopped but didn’t turn. “I’ll be a while,” she said quietly. “Why don’t you three take in the town? Maybe see about getting a guide for the Falefal.”
“You sure, lass?” said Healer.
“Don’t you think he’ll want to speak with us?” said Rosalie.
Mira shook her head. “If he has questions, he’ll send for you.”
Landing softly next to her, Echo laid a hand on her shoulder. “You alright, love?”
“I’m fine, my lady. Splitting our tasks just makes the most sense, ma’am.”
Echo rocked back on her heels, worry creasing her features. She might not have known Mira long, not in the grand scheme all things considered, but never had her knight been so… proper with her. The duchess studied her hard, but the woman’s face was unreadable. It was as if for the first time, she’d met the soldier beneath the woman.
“Mira? My knight? I—” Echo wetted her lips, uncertain what to say. “We’ll see you soon?”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Mira.
Echo’s fingers were left dangling in the air to linger just a moment as Mira stepped away. A sharp pang pierced the duchess’s heart at the sudden distance between them. She thought they’d left such formalities back in Cawold when they went off to fight those wolves.
Bloody hell! They shared a daughter together!
And yet, here she was. Shut out as if a stranger. Reminded firmly once more of the gulf her title put between herself and the others.
“Come on then,” Echo scarcely whispered as she trudged past Healer and Rosalie, wings hanging limply. “She’s right. We’ve an expedition to prepare.” Pivoting on the spot, she forced a smile as practiced as it was hollow upon her lips. “A guide won’t simply present himself, now will he?”
Rosalie and Healer exchanged glances.
“Are you alright, Ms. Echo?” said Rosalie.
“Of course,” Echo lied. “We’ve work to do. That’s all.”
Nodding slowly, Healer’s lips screwed with doubt. “Riiiight…”
Venturing into the city, Echo found the people as cheerful as their homes. Sullen, quiet, their outfits consisted almost entirely of dull browns and muddy reds. Somehow even the clear blue sky seemed drab and bereft of its call to soar as it hung over Sitri.
The zephyra noblewoman hadn’t felt so homesick in months.
“Where ya wanna start?” Healer grumbled as they plodded away from the garrison.
“I say the square, perhaps the markets,” Rosalie suggested. “There’ll be loads of people there!”
Echo shook her head. “Not the right kind of people.”
“Aye,” Healer agreed. “I doubt many folk with a mind for the Falefal will be checking notice boards.”
“Our best bet will be the inns and taverns,” Echo thought aloud. “The real question is should we stay near the garrison or move to the outskirts?”
“Well if it’s a ranger we’re lookin’ for, I say we start on the edge of town. They ain’t known for bein’ the most social folk,” said Healer.
“Good point,” Rosalie agreed. “I hadn’t thought of that. It would mostly be mercenaries and off-duty soldiers this close to the garrison, and the square would mainly host travelers, traders, and merchants. Perhaps a wizard or wandering bard.”
“I spied a dive on the way in. We should start there,” said Healer.
Echo nodded. “Then we should be off. If we’ve any luck, we’ll find our man before Mira catches up.”
Finding their way back to the gate wasn’t particularly difficult. Tedious, perhaps, but not difficult. But as they approached the dingy, gray shingled tavern, Echo couldn’t think of a more perfect name than what hung from its sign: The Broken Nag.
The stench of cheap ale, the kind so weak you could safely give it to toddlers by the pint, wafted from the door. Grime blackened windows prevented much beyond the distorted flicker of lamplight to escape the building.
“Stay close, m’lady,” Healer grumbled to Echo.
Warped boards creaked beneath the weight of the go’thial as he stooped in ahead of the others. His massive form filled the doorframe. If anyone had been talking, his presence silenced them.
The bartender barely gave him a second glance. “Help ya, big fella?”
“A pint and two mugs,” said Healer as he found a less filthy spot on the floor to sit, no chair capable of holding the demigiant’s weight.
Pouring the ale, the bartender plopped it down on the bar in front of them as Echo and Rosalie found the least dirty stools they could.
“So,” the bartender began, his voice filled with the apathy of a man who’d seen such things a hundred times. “Why don’t the three of you cut to the chase? A preacher, a noble, and a shape shifter don’t just show up here if they don’t need something.”
“Oh, he’s good!” Rosalie chirped. Taking a sip of the beer, she grimaced. “More than I can say for this!”
“We’re in need of a guide,” said Echo. “Preferably a ranger.”
Shrugging, the bartender motioned to the various people gathered in his establishment, all listening with passive interest.
“Plenty to pick from, m’lady,” he said. “Depends on where you’ll be needin’ their expertise for. The Weremarch? Bodrick’s Glen? The Sunshades?”
Propping her elbows on the bar, Echo leaned forward. “Falefal Forest.”
If the tink of a dropped pin could be heard before, now it would’ve been a concerto.
The bartender quietly took her drink back. “I think you’ve had enough, lass. This might not be the sort of establishment you’re accustomed to, but it’s still a tavern and we don’t serve pre-tossed birds. If it’s that forest you’re on about, you best be tryin’ Kiera’s Rest. That nutter bin might be more your speed.”
“There are only a handful of people in the world qualified to guide anyone through the Falefal, my lady,” came the calm, drawling voice of a man. Crossing the room, he laid a copper piece on the table and retrieved Echo’s mug. “I don’t reckon the lady was done, lad.”
Shorter than Mira, but not as short as Echo, he slid into the seat beside her. Brushing his deep auburn hair behind his long, pointed ear, he turned his dark hazel eyes to her.
“And would you happen to be one properly qualified, master elf?” said Echo.
“I just might, if the price is right.” His eyes sparkled as he touched his fingers to his chest. “Vadanian Amakiir. And to whom has this simple nu-sadis have the pleasure to speak?”
“You may call me, Echo, and these are two of my companions, Pastor Healer, priest of Estoria, and Miss Rosalie of the Larris Marsh.”
The forest elf politely inclined his head in acknowledgment of their names. “Well, Lady Echo, as I was saying, if you’ve the coin, I might be so inclined to serve as your guide; though, I would caution you, most find it safer to detour ‘round that bleeding forest.”
“So we’ve heard,” Echo agreed, “but I fear what we seek can’t be found beyond it.” He cocked his head, interest piqued. “We’re searching for someone. A mentor, as it was, of an alchemist we know. A Master Ja-Harris?”
“Ja-Harris?” Vadanian repeated the name. “That does tickle these old ears, ma’am. I seem to recall a tower, deep within the forest. A good two-three days in if I’m remembering right. Could be your man.”
Echo’s feathers fluffed. “And you could take us there?”
“Depends on if you’re willing to pay. That far into the Falefal…” He shook his head. “That won’t come cheap.” Turning to Healer and Rosalie, he looked them up and down, assessing them with a studious eye. “It’ll be fifty gold a head. Double for the big lad.”
Healer choked on the ale. “Two-hundred and fifty gold?!”
“You’re asking for a guide through the most haunted forest in all the world. A place where every root and stem has it out for you. That’s mate’s rates, old man.”
Lips screwing this way and that, Echo drummed her fingers on the bar. She still wasn’t familiar with the concept of how much something ought to cost, but based on Healer’s reaction, it was steep price.
“Might we a bit to discuss?” said Echo. “I’d like to run your figure by our fourth member. She’s a local.”
“Of course.” Vadanian inclined his head. “My offer will stand until sunset, but after that, I make no guarantees. A elf’s gotta eat. He can’t wait around forever.” He held up a finger. “One thing. If you decide to ask around, make certain to ask which way to turn at the second river to avoid the swamp. If they say any direction, know you’re speaking to a fool. That river can’t ever make up its mind.”
Nodding to him, Echo rose, motioning for the others to follow. She’d much to consider. The very tone of the nu-sadis’s voice, that utter confidence in his words, he knew what he was talking about. But the weight of gold had to be considered.
Her feathers bristled and flattened as she walked, thoughts racing.
“It is a lot, m’lady,” Healer assured her. “Reckon you’re mullin’ that over a might.”
“More than I’ve seen in my lifetime,” Rosalie agreed.
Echo sighed. “I was afraid as such. Still—” She shook her head. “Have we much of a choice? Choose the wrong guide, and we’d be further off to slit our own throats now. Better than being added to the forest’s permanent residents.”
“How much do we have to work with?” said Rosalie.
“Not much,” Echo admitted. “I think we lost more than we gained with our excursion to the marsh.”
“Wouldn’t’ve been right to charge them poor folks, lass,” said Healer.
“No, I agree,” said Echo. “But a clear conscience does little to help our current predicament.”
“There’s hardly reason for moping, miss,” said Rosalie. “We’ve only just started looking. I’m sure there’ll be loads of other guides.”
But as they passed midday, quite the opposite proved true.
They tried every pub, tavern, inn, and alehouse in the city. And everywhere they went, the reaction was the same: a curious desire to part a noblewoman from her coin, followed quickly by silent retreat when their destination was revealed, and more than a few suggestions to find lodgings in Kiera’s Rest Asylum.
“I hear you’re looking for a guide through the Falefal,” a red-scaled krirum snarled.
The lizardman had caught up with them as they were leaving the third ward docks. He was tall and gruff, as was common to his people, but he seemed polite enough by krirum standards.
Echo’s feathers perked. “You’ve experience with the forest?”
Eyes narrowing, he nodded. “More than a couple trips, I dare say. Word is you’re looking for a master alchemist what set up shop in ‘em.”
“That’s correct,” said the duchess. “Might I take this as you inquiring to the matter professionally?”
His lips drew back in a reptilian approximation of a smile. “You might.”
Looking to Healer, Echo nodded. “And how much were you thinking?”
“Well,” he began thoughtfully. “Seeing as you’ve a demigiant and a Yesha, I reckon I could do it for ten a head. Double for the go’thial offsettin’ nomad an’ all.”
“Forty sovereigns?” Echo thought aloud. A sight better than what that elf wants. Only… “I’ve heard tale there’s a dangerous swamp within the forest.”
“Aye,” the lizardman affirmed. “A deadly bog. Sucked down more than a few folk unprepared for the forest.”
Echo nodded appraisingly. “And I’ve heard that there’s a river that warns to its location. Tell me, how does one know which way they should go when they encounter the river?”
“Always upstream!” he barked. “That there’s free advice, lass. You find yourself at the river, you always turn left and follow it upstream.”
Vadanian’s warning screamed through her mind. If they give you any direction, know you’re talking to a fool.
“Thank you.” Echo flashed her practiced smile. “We’ll need to confer with our fourth companion, of course, but your figure is quite tempting.”
“Naturally, m’lady,” he confirmed. “My offer stands ‘til the morning. Can’t guarantee nothing past then though.”
Neither Echo nor Healer said a word. It wasn’t until they were well away from the lizardman that Rosalie broke the silence.
“Didn’t Mr. Amakiir say—?”
“Caught that too, did you?” said Echo.
“Two offers in all the city,” Healer grumbled aloud. “One highway robbery. The other a bleeding idjit. That would be our luck, wouldn’t it?”
“Excuse, my lady,” came the voice of a young boy.
He hardly came to Echo’s chest, and even though he was a scrawny looking thing, he wore the blue tunic of the Dragons of Sitri.
“Yes?” said Echo.
“Pardon the intrusion, ma’am,” the squire continued, “but Dame Mira sent me to fetch you. Captain Theris requests an audience.”
Turning to the others, Healer shrugged to her.
“Well,” he began thoughtfully. “Ya did say you wanted to run it by our fourth.”
Nodding, Echo gestured to the boy. “Lead the way.”
About the Author
A. S. Raithe is a fantasy author living near Pittsburgh with his wife and children. Always the creative type, it wasn’t until high school and being introduced to a local bestselling author that he found his passion for writing. He took time away from writing to attend college before being convinced by his wife to pick it up again shortly after their wedding. Outside of writing he enjoys exercise, baking, gardening, folklore, music, and hiking.
