Forsaken by the one person who was supposed to love her unconditionally, Red must brave the magic and monsters of the Wylds to find her true place in the world.
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Plague...
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The sun was high in the sky when we finally reached the edge of the ashen plains. From afar, it looked as though the fire had recoiled from some invisible line; the trees were too uniformly arrayed against the charred earth, like defenders standing over the blasted remains of a successfully repelled army. I presumed it was because of a sudden change in the wind, perhaps the same mysterious force that snuffed the flames out altogether.
It wasn't until we came closer that I realised my first instinct was correct. A low, stacked-stone wall cut through the earth, the joinings thick with moss and lichen. It extended as far as the eye could see, and only broke to accommodate a wrought-iron gate that came up to my hip, rusted brown from years of inclement weather.
The Wraith stiffened beneath me, coming to a stop despite the urgency he'd carried us with so far. The wall was just as ancient as the gate, and certainly worse for wear, but not a single lick of heat had blackened the stone or withered that creeping moss. Indeed, the woods beyond the fence seemed even thicker and wilder than the ones I'd initially walked through, the trees trunks as wide as the full span of Lady Midnight's wings. The sounds of nature blared over the wall, jarring after the oppressive silence of the Rotten Sea and the Ashen Plains. I'd never thought I'd find bird calls and burbling creeks so offensive to the ears.
It was the latter sound that pulled me from my stupor. My thirst roared to life at the promise of clear, running water. The festering smell of Lady Midnight's wounds sharpened in my nose.
"Let's go," I said softly, leaning over the sleeping wyvern to place a hand on the Wraith's neck. It was a gesture of thanks for all he had done, but also a request to move forward.
The silver wolf still didn't move. Indeed, he'd gone unnaturally quiet despite his rising heckles, his body tense between my thighs. I shot a questing look at Eddy, but there was no electricity running along his horn as he nibbled at some greenery sprouting from the wall. He seemed perfectly fine with the idea of being here, and was even arching his little neck over the wall to try and get at the grass on the other side.
Something else was making the Wraith's fur stand on end.
"A gate means people," I said to the Wraith. "And people mean bandages. And clothes," I said with a low chuckle, glancing down at my rags. Lady Midnight looked more equipped to be saving me. "It's also a faster trip to the mountains if we cut straight through the woods."
Nothing. He was absolutely frozen with fear. If it had just been me, I might have suggested going the long way around. But the air had started rattling in Lady Midnight's lungs these past few miles, and l knew it didn't bode well. She needed water, food, shelter and rest; all things that people could provide.
"Please," I said.
Perhaps the Wraith could understand me, because he finally started to move, stepping over the stone wall like it was nothing more than a line drawn in the mud. Emboldened by our actions, Eddy cleared it in one clean leap, ripping blades of grass out by the roots before he'd even come to a stop. Still tense and quiet beneath me, the Wraith slunk through the woods, guided by the babbling of the nearest brook.
