Soul Seeker

7: Wayfinder

Hunched miserably over the sled, Ciara and the dogs ploughed into the wind, making slow but steady progress. She couldn't believe Tonraq had left her. She knew he would disagree, but friends didn't just leave, they settled their differences.

He didn't want to be friends with a killer.

But it wasn't like that, Ciara tried to convince herself. The bad weather was sapping her resolve, and she was already finding it hard to keep going when that look on Tonraq's face kept swimming behind her eyes.

Tonraq had taken the tent with him.

Ciara could build herself a shelter for the night out of whatever she could find, but it would slow her down. How close was she to Jost? Not close enough.

Ciara sighed and her breath smoked in front of her. Perhaps she should turn around and find Tonraq. Going on without his blessing felt wrong, and she could do with the tent.

She was turning the sled when an arrow flew over her head.

Instantly Ciara ducked low over the sled and scanned her surroundings. She couldn't see anyone. Had a hunter mistook her team for an animal in the poor conditions – but what idiot fired arrows needlessly into a storm? Was there someone more dangerous out there? Her heart hammered against her ribs.

She prayed Tonraq was all right, wherever he was now.

Ciara guided the sled towards a nearby forest, a swathe of darkness in the landscape, and anchored it in the shelter of the trees. She crouched beside the dogs, watching them for signs of alarm, but it seemed like they couldn't sense anyone nearby.

That didn't mean she was safe. That arrow had come from somewhere.

Ciara clutched her bow, wishing Tonraq was with her. The weather made every gnarled tree trunk look threatening.

She weighed her options. She could get back on the sled and make her team run blindly on, but that arrow had spooked her and her instincts told her the way ahead wasn't clear. Were bandits were lying in wait for lone travellers entering Jost? Whoever they were, someone on a sled would attract attention. The forest provided good cover, but it was too thick for the sled to navigate.

Ciara stroked her dogs, double-checking the anchor. "You guys stay here. Stay. I'll be back soon."

Pulling an arrow from her quiver and nocking it, Ciara stalked silently into the trees with a hunter's tread, planning on scouting ahead before returning for the dogs. The wind and snow lessened the deeper she walked, but the forest was full of noise: the rustle of needles and the whumph of piles of snow sliding from branches. She was so on edge that everything made her jump.

The forest grew denser and darker, the trees older, patches of autumn leaves on the ground stark in places where the snow had not reached. A branch scraped Ciara's cheek, warning her back. These trees did not know her and they did not want her here. What secrets did they carry?

Ciara knew she was still heading west, towards Jost, and surely soon would emerge to find where the road joined the town. Perhaps she should have skirted the edge of the treeline more closely, but she had been too afraid of running into someone hostile.

She wanted to laugh at herself. Afraid of hostility, when that was the point of her journey?

Something white, not snow, glimmered between trees in the distance. Ciara froze, but whatever it was didn't appear to be moving. Curiosity flooded through her so she headed towards it.

Ciara stumbled into a clearing, and her breath caught in her throat.

The whiteness she had spotted turned out to be a man laid on his back with his eyes closed, so perfectly still he could have been a statue from another world. His face was strong, chiselled and smooth, his skin a light brown. Alabaster-white hair spilled out around him, shining like strings of pearls against the carpet of dark leaves upon which he lay. He wore a white coat made of the fur of an ice bear.