Thessa refused to turn her head a second time.

  Had she done so, the tears would have returned and Maerwyn would not have approved.

  The ash clung to her bare feet as she stepped away from her parents’ bodies. The smell of smoke had sunk into her skin and clothes.

  Maerwyn did not hurry her.

  The witch stood at the edge of the village, pale eyes fixed on the tree line beyond the river. Waiting.

  Once Thessa joined her, the two set out.

  They crossed the river outside Black Hollow at its narrowest bend, where the current slipped fast. The water was winter-cold. It bit at Thessa’s calves, numbing her skin almost instantly but with some struggle Thessa reached the other side.

  Maerwyn passed through without glancing at her footing, as if the river offered her no opposition.

  On the opposite bank, the marsh began. The ground gave slightly underfoot, clutching at Thessa’s heels. Mist drifted low between the reeds, curling in thin ribbons.

  “Where are you taking me, Miss Maerwyn?”

  Maerwyn kept walking. “We travel to my coven. It will take near three weeks.”

  The witch’s charms clicked softly at her belt as the pair made their way through the marsh.

  In time the mist grew heavier and the reeds towered higher. The sky faded into a dull gray smear, and even the sun appeared unwilling to gaze upon the land.

  “This area is dangerous stay close girl.”

  Each time she lifted her foot, it felt as though the earth objected. The muscles in her legs began to tremble with the effort. Her breath came quicker each step harder than the last.

  A thorn caught the side of her foot.

  She stumbled.

  Pain flared hot and immediately cutting through the numb cold that had settled on her skin. When she pulled free, she left a faint streak of red swirling into the brown water behind her.

  Once, something brushed past her ankle beneath the water.

  She froze.

  The movement was quick. Smooth. Gone in an instant.

  Her heart hammered painfully in her chest.

  “Keep walking,” Maerwyn instructed without looking back.

  Thessa forced down her fear and continued.

  Eventually, the marsh thinned into woodland.

  Maerwyn stepped beneath the canopy without hesitation.

  Thessa trailed after her.

  The moment they crossed into the trees, the world changed.

  The distant wind fell silent. Even the soft murmur of the marsh faded behind them.

  It felt as though the forest were holding its breath.

  “Listen carefully girl. This is your first lesson. In forests like this, you do not acknowledge the wood folk.”

  “What do you mean?” Thessa asked, confusion lacing her voice.

  Maerwyn kept moving as she spoke. “You may glimpse shapes like men carved from bark and branches. Pay them no mind. While you remain beside me, they will not harm you.”

  Thessa nodded silently.

  The pair continued through the woods every so often Thessa would see something out of the counter of her eye though she never got a clear sight of it.

  There were no birds.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  No flutter of wings above, no hint of life in the canopy.

  By the time the light began to thin into evening, Thessa’s steps no longer sounded like footsteps.

  They dragged.

  Her feet burned with every step.

  Still, she walked.

  The air cooled gradually as the day bent toward night. Shadows thickened at the base of trees. What little sunlight filtered through the canopy turned gray, then silver.

  Maerwyn finally slowed.

  Thessa did not notice at first. She nearly walked into the witch’s back before catching herself.

  “We camp here for the night” she said simply.

  Relief hit Thessa so suddenly her knees buckled.

  She caught herself against a tree trunk, breath shuddering in and out of her chest.

  Maerwyn worked with practiced precision.

  She selected fallen branches with care, picking only those dry enough to catch flame. After Maerwyn had gathered enough branches, she made a small fire pit then she poured a clear liquid over a cluster of twigs the scent of which nearly made Thessa puke. It was the most horrid thing she had smelled in her entire life.

  Mearwyn mumbled something under her breath when a small orb of fire appeared in front of her and fell onto the fire pit. The liquid shimmered faintly, then caught fire in a controlled low flame. It burned steady and blue at the base before turning warm gold and the fire gave off little smoke.

  Thessa could only gape at the display before her.

  “What was that, Miss Maerwyn?” Thessa burst out, wonder bright in her voice.

  Maerwyn crouched beside it and gestured toward the moss. “Sit.”

  Thessa lowered herself carefully. The moss compressed beneath her weight as she sat.

  When she extended her legs, the sight of her feet made her stomach twist.

  They were swollen and mottled red, streaked with dried mud and thin lines of blood. Small thorns still protruded near her toes. The cuts had deepened over the day’s journey.

  She clenched her jaw

  Maerwyn noticed.

  “Pain is not a weakness” the maerwyn said quietly. “It is the mark of the living...”

  She reached for Thessa’s foot without asking permission.

  Her hands were rough but steady. She removed the thorns one by one with precise movements, placing them into the fire where they snapped and curled black. Thessa hissed in pain as each barb slid free.

  From another pouch, she withdrew crushed leaves dark with sap. She pressed them gently against the open cuts. The sap stung at first a sharp, biting heat then cooled rapidly, dulling the worst of the pain.

  “Thank you,” Thessa whispered, her stomach growling audibly.

  “That flame before… what was it?”

  “A spell,” Maerwyn answered simply.

  “Will I ever learn to do something like that?”

  “When we reach the coven, we shall see.”

  “Whats the coven like.”

  “Dangerous.” Maerwyn replied “I will make us something to eat.”

  Almost as if in response a crow flew out from the trees and dropped a rabbit onto the ground.

  Maerwyn took out her bone knife and began to systematically butcher it. Thessa had never witnessed such swift, practiced work.

  As Maerwyn worked, Thessa’s eyelids drooped. The long journey had drained what little strength she had left.

  “Wake up girl.” Maerwyn said as she shook Thessa awake. “Your rabbit is done.”

  Thessa’s eyes fluttered open for a moment she did not know where she was. The air smelled of sap and smoke and something metallic beneath it. Then the ache in her feet returned, and the memory of the marsh, and the village, and the flames came flooding back like a tide she could not outrun.

  Maerwyn crouched beside the fire, turning a sharpened stick over the coals. Strips of rabbit meat glistened, their edges curling and crisping.

  Thessa pushed herself upright slowly. Every muscle protested.

  Maerwyn handed her the stick “Eat before it cools.”

  Thessa took it carefully. She hesitated only a second before tearing off a piece with her teeth.

  The rabbit tasted of smoke and salt and something wild. It did not taste like the soft, stewed meats her mother used to make on feast days.

  They ate in silence.

  The forest pressed in around them. The firelight threw shifting shapes against the trunks, long-limbed silhouettes that bent and straightened as the flames moved. Once, Thessa thought she saw one of the shapes lean closer than the others.

  She kept her eyes on the fire.

  From somewhere deep in the trees came a sound. Not an animal cry. Not quite.

  A hollow knocking. Three slow taps. Then silence.

  Thessa’s chewing slowed.

  Maerwyn did not look up. “Ignore it.”

  The words were calm, but the witch’s hand drifted subtly toward the bone knife at her belt.

  Another knock sounded. Farther away this time. Answered by a softer one to the left.

  Thessa swallowed hard. “The wood folk?” she whispered.

  “Yes.”

  “Are they watching us?”

  “They are always watching.”

  The fire cracked sharply, sending a shower of sparks upward. Thessa flinched.

  Maerwyn reached into one of her pouches and scattered a thin line of gray powder around the edge of their small clearing. It caught the firelight faintly, almost invisible once it settled.

  “What is that?” Thessa asked.

  “A boundary.”

  “For them?”

  “For anything.”

  Thessa nodded, though the explanation did little to steady her pulse.

  Maerwyn leaned back against a tree trunk, pale eyes reflecting gold from the flames. “You will sleep again,” she said. “I will wake you before dawn.”