Shadows of Myth

“Is something wrong?”

The whisper startled her, and she jumped with a small cry, twisting to discover that Archer had come to squat beside her.

“My apologies,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you all right?”

“I had a nightmare. I can’t seem to shake it off.”

He nodded, his gaze darting around as if he were trying to watch the entire world at once. “Ratha, Giri and I are standing guard. You need not fear.”

She shuddered again.

Hesitantly he reached out and touched her hand, where it clutched the blanket around her. “Tell me,” he suggested quietly.

“It was as if something evil were trying to get inside me. Something evil and cold. And the feeling is still here.”

He nodded but said nothing. On the other hand, he didn’t tell her that she was being foolish.

Finally he looked at her again. “You’re feeling it, too. There’s something out there, but it dares not approach. You can rest safely.”

“I don’t think I’ll sleep again tonight.”

“Perhaps not. How quietly can you walk?”

She didn’t know how to answer that. “I’m not sure.”

He cocked his head. “Then it’s best you stay here. Trust me, we’re watching over the campsite.”

“How can I help?” It was a stupid question, she thought, even as she asked it. She had no idea whether she knew how to use a weapon of any kind. No idea whether she had ever fought anyone or anything.

“Keep your back to the fire and watch,” he said. “We need eyes.”

She nodded, then watched him rise and melt away once again.

It was only then that she noticed the fog that surrounded the campsite, as if held at bay only by the fire. It clung low to the ground and was so thick that nothing could be seen through it. But while it surrounded the campers, it approached none of them.

Another shiver passed through her, and she wondered how long it would be before the sun rose.

Dawn came without further incident, much to everyone’s relief. The party struggled through a quick breakfast, then set out on the last brief leg of the journey to the caravan.

The scene, when they came upon it in the clear morning light, was almost exactly as Tess recalled. The bodies were strewn about, untouched by carrion eaters. The river ran clear now, free of blood. The men of Whitewater at once began to burden their packhorses with as much undamaged food as they could carry. Then they began the bitter task of burying the dead.

Tess sat astride her horse, disappointed that there was nothing here that might wake her memory.

Archer drew his mount up beside her. “Do you remember anything?” he asked quietly, so that no one else would overhear.

She shook her head, feeling her heart squeeze with both disappointment and the horror of her earliest memory: the carnage she had seen here.

“Give it time, Lady,” he said. “For now, come with me. I want to find some sign of who wrought this destruction.”

Nodding, having nothing else to do with herself, having no personhood or even personality to guide her, she followed him.

“We’ll ride downstream,” he told her. “That would be the best place for the attackers to start from—the rear of the caravan.”

“That makes sense.”

“If anything about this makes sense.”

“This doesn’t happen often?”

“This never happens,” he said flatly. “Few caravans are attacked, and those that are rarely suffer more than a few casualties and the loss of their goods. This is surpassing strange.”

She gave a little laugh of unhappy amusement. “Like me, the woman from nowhere.”

“Be at ease, Lady. You remembered how to speak. The rest will come.”

“I’d be at ease if anything seemed familiar.”

He raised a brow at her. “Are you saying riding that horse doesn’t feel familiar?”

At that she gaped, and finally a trill of laughter escaped her. “You’ll cheer me up in spite of myself.”

“It’s the small things that matter,” he reminded her.

Then his attention began to focus more on their surroundings. They crossed the portage bridge, and he drew rein, staring up at something.

“What?” she asked.

“See those rocks?” He pointed at a bunch of high crags.

“Yes.”

“The caravan would have passed beneath them. If one could gather his group up there, he’d be in the best possible position to know when to attack.”

Tess looked around them. “I don’t see any way to get up there.”

“Not from the road. That would be too obvious. I’m going into the woods. If you’d like to stay here, that’s fine.”

“No, I want to come.” She had to start carving something out of her new life, and staying behind every time someone did something would only make her exceptionally useless in the long run.

The old forest was deep and dark, with only little shards of sunlight dappling the ground here and there. It was easy enough to pass through, but still not the sort of place one would choose to ride.

“It would be easy to get lost in here,” Tess said.

“Aye. But don’t fear. My sense of direction is excellent.”

Indeed it was, because in only a short time he had brought them round the tor and found a narrow, rocky path up its side, sufficient for them to ride single file.

But instead of leading them up it, he dismounted. “Wait here. I want to see the tracks.”