The Witch's Tower, Tamara Grantham [best ereader for academics TXT] 📗

us, but I kicked Sable’s flanks hard, spun her around, and galloped for the road.

The wind pushed the cowl from my head. I grabbed it and pulled it up, praying the guardsman hadn’t seen my hair.

Raj followed close behind me. Our horses’ hooves pounded the cobbled street, but instead of turning toward Grimlore, we took a path through the farmlands instead, avoiding the town and hopefully eluding the squadron—at least for now.

I lost track of how long we rode. We didn’t slow until the dark treetops of Spirit Woods appeared on the horizon. Tightening the reins, I slowed Sable to a walk. She breathed heavily, her coat slick with sweat.

Raj also slowed his horse and rode beside me.

“What was that?” he asked. “That smoke?”

“Morrid bane. It’s basically harmless. Its powdered form can temporarily disable a person. The liquid form can eat through skin. It’s too volatile to carry, so I only brought the powder.”

“That was brilliant,” he said, beaming. “I was ready to charge him, but you reacted first. You’re a hero, Gothel.”

I laughed. “Hero? That’s an exaggeration.”

“It’s no exaggeration. You defeated a member of the king’s squadron. Do you know how many people have been killed by men like him? You must be a true warrior at heart.”

“Raj, I threw some powder on him. Let’s not get carried away.”

“Still, you were brave, and you used your head. Not many people can keep their cool under pressure the way you did.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled, self-consciously fidgeting with my cowl to hide my burning red cheeks. I wasn’t sure anyone had ever complimented my bravery.

Up ahead, the forest loomed closer. The hulking trees looked like a solid black mass against the sky. Rumors of the Spirit Woods surfaced in my memories. I’d never been inside, but I’d known others who had. Their stories still haunted my nightmares.

“Why are we going here again?” I asked.

“Because we’re saving the prince and Rapunzel—and basically everyone in the land.”

“Is it worth it?” I asked, teasing. Sort of.

He eyed me, but he didn’t say anything.

A cold chill prickled my neck as we entered the forest. My horse whinnied nervously, and Raj’s mare stopped abruptly, her eyes wild. He spoke quietly into her ear as he stroked her neck, gently coaxing her.

Something about the movement of his hands caught my attention—the way the tendons moved beneath his skin, the gentle strength of his fingers. I realized I was staring and quickly pulled my gaze away.

We continued into the forest until the thick canopy of trees obscured the sunlight. Silence surrounded us. Frost covered the trunks of trees—most of them dead—looking like fingers with broken nails sticking up from the moss-covered forest floor.

Frogs croaked rhythmically, their voices resonating through the woods. Pools of dark, crimson colored water appeared in patches through the gaps in the trees. I was thankful we’d filled up our canteens before entering the forest. I would have to be parched before I drank from those pools.

A sensation came to me, a prickling that raised the hair on my arms. Was it fear making me feel that way? Or something else?

A hollow laughter whispered through the forest, and the wind picked up, making the tree limbs creak.

“Did you hear that?” I asked Raj.

“Yes. It’s the wind.”

“Are you sure? It sounds like something else.”

“Like what?”

“Laughter, maybe?”

“It’s the wind,” he said, as if to reassure himself. The wind faded, leaving the frogs to fill the silence.

“I don’t like this place,” I said. “It makes me uncomfortable.”

“You and me both,” Raj agreed.

Everything in the forest looked dead. The only colors were the charcoal gray of the trees, and the pools of red water that reminded me of blood. The horses pawed their feet and snorted their disapproval. When we finally stopped for a quick lunch, the sun shone above our heads, though very little light made it through the thick blanket of trees.

Raj and I sat on a log away from the main trail, our horses tied to tree trunks to keep them from bolting. I sipped water from my canteen, keeping my eyes on the forest for movement. Except for the sound of the frogs—which was incessant—I saw no signs of any other animals, not even birds.

I pulled a piece of jerky from my satchel, chewing slowly, watching bits of moss hanging from the trees move in a lazy breeze. The moldering smell coming from the decomposing wood filled the air, and I tried holding my breath as I ate, but it did no good.

As soon as we finished our meal, Raj and I mounted the horses once again and continued down the trail. The air warmed as afternoon approached, and I took the opportunity to remove my hood. I doubted the high sorcerer’s guards would follow us into the forest. The chances of getting spotted were slim—at least that’s what I told myself. Something about constantly wearing a cowl made me feel trapped.

Ahead, the form of something blocked our path. When we neared it, I looked into the face of a skull. My horse flinched back at the sweet, sickly scent. Flies buzzed through the air and crawled over what remained of the body. Eyeless sockets peered from a skeletal face, and only a few patches of gray flesh clung to the bones.

Across the person’s chest, three large gashes split his tunic. The wounds were so deep, they cut his ribs in half, and severed bones stuck out from the wasted flesh.

With my arm held over my nose, I slowly backed my horse away, though Raj dismounted to inspect the body.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Trying to find out how he died.”

“Something cut him open,” I said.

“Yes, but what?”

He grabbed a stick and poked the body, disturbing the flies. They swarmed into the air. “Those gashes are each the same length and width, and the same distance apart. Something with claws did this, most likely.”

“Claws?”

He nodded, tossing the stick aside and mounting his horse. Tranquility pranced, but he managed to grasp her reins and keep her steady.

“What kind of creature would have large enough claws to cleave a person nearly in two?”

“I don’t know. I’d rather not find out.”

He kicked his horse past the corpse. I followed him, glancing back at the body, praying we didn’t meet whatever had killed him.

As afternoon turned to evening, with the sun sinking toward the horizon, my anxiety mounted. I didn’t want to spend the night in the forest, but it seemed as if the path went on forever without end. The scenery hadn’t changed at all—still the same dead trees and strange pools of red water—and I had the illogical feeling that we were riding in circles.

As the sun set, it transformed to a bright glowing ball that was barely visible through the moss-covered trees.

“Raj, we’re going to make it before nightfall, aren’t we?”

“Yes. We need to ride harder, that’s all.”

I had trouble sharing his confidence, but I didn’t argue as we kicked our horses into a full gallop. My legs ached from being in the saddle all day.

The sinking sun painted orange splotches over the road. Ahead, I spotted a lump lying across the road. As we approached it, I gasped.

“Is that the same body we saw earlier?” I asked, looking at the three gashes in the exact same spots, the gray flesh, I even spotted the same stick Raj had used tossed beside the road.

“This isn’t good,” Raj said.

“How did this happen? We’ve been on the same road. There were no places to turn or take another path.”

He shook his head. “Could magic be responsible?”

“If so, I don’t know what kind.”

“Then we’ve got no choice but to keep going and find somewhere to camp.” He kicked his horse forward and I rode behind him. The idea of spending the night in these cursed woods made my heart tremor with anxiety.

The wind whispered through the trees with an eerie howl, raising the hairs on my arms. My heart dropped as the color drained from the already bleak world. Raj turned off the trail, searching for someplace suitable to camp. Something moved in the trees, but as I focused, in the dim light, I saw nothing. Maybe my mind was playing tricks.

The ground dipped lower. Rocky cliffs interspersed the trees.

Up ahead, a clearing opened. A sheer wall of rocks overshadowed the clearing, giving a little protection from the wind.

“We’ll camp here,” Raj said, stopping his horse and dismounting. I did the same. Thinking of everything that needed to be done helped keep my mind off spending the night in the forest. We stayed busy with unsaddling the horses, giving them water and a scanty scoop of oats, scavenging for firewood, building a fire, and preparing the soup.

By the time we sat in front of a crackling fire, a boiling pot of thick stew atop the coals, and the heavenly scent of boiled vegetables filling the air, I finally felt as if I could let down my guard—at least a little. Nothing had attacked us yet. Maybe we were safe.

I stretched my hands toward the fire, reveling in its warmth. Raj ladled two bowls of soup and we ate quietly. The broth was thick, as we didn’t have much water to spare, but the carrots and potatoes were