Risk

Chapter XXIX

Jasta rolled over, trying to find a comfortable spot again so that she could drift off. She was still exhausted, even though she could tell with the amount of light shining on her eyelids that it was daytime again. She felt stiff, like she had for the past days since getting out of the gorge, and her leg was aching especially badly.

"Jasta, are you awake?" she felt like the words were muffled. She yawned and opened her eyes. There was a fern plant just inches away from her face. She rolled back out into the clearing, brushing powdery spores off of her face and resisting the urge to sneeze.

"Yeah, I'm up." she felt dizzy for a few seconds after standing up, but then she gained her balance.

"Ready to go?" he was standing on the other side of the wall of ferns, the satchel already draped over his shoulder.

She nodded, unable to speak because of a giant yawn, and she pushed drowsily through the ferns to stand at his side. The road was just visible through the trees.

She remembered that she had noticed a new kind of tree when she had fallen asleep the night before, and she looked around to spot it again, and her heart lodged itself in her throat when she saw what kind. She had almost not recognized it. It seemed like years and years and years since she had last seen one, but once she had realized it, she knew she would never forget again. It was a Clover tree, slightly smaller than the ones she was used to, but a clover tree nonetheless.

She walked slightly faster, feeling a lot less sore and tired now that she knew they were soon going to be back among clover trees. They might even be her own forest, slowly forming around her as the yellow-leaved ones faded away, and the huge white and dark green giants took over. The smell seemed like something straight out of a distant dream.

"Do you think we're getting close? This is the same kind of forest." Jasta could hardly keep her voice from trembling in excitement. She could hardly manage to tear her eyes away from the giant trees around her.

"We might be." He shrugged lightly, and it looked like he was about to say something, but instead of carrying on, he closed his mouth and frowned.

"What's wrong?" she glanced around, ready to see some beast hidden in the undergrowth on the sides of the road, or storm clouds signaling disaster from above, but she saw no such thing.

"Do you hear that?" he tilted his head, then stopped walking entirely. A moment later, Jasta could hear what he was talking about. It was a kind of clattering noise, and it took her a moment to realize that it was familiar. Looking back, she found it strange how they had seen almost no travelers on the road with them, but now it looked like they finally would. A cart rounded the corner, and she saw that her guess was correct.

The driver slowed his horses. He was an old man, with patched clothes and untrimmed hair. A pipe was slowly oozing smoke from where it hung from his lips. He peered at them through a squint, as if he couldn't see very well.

"What are you two doing out here by yourselves? Didn't you hear about that girl a few villages over? Done got herself killed, or maybe it was kidnapped, I don't really recall." He scratched his head with a knobby, wrinkled hand.

Jasta's breath caught in her throat. He had to be talking about her! Somehow the story of her kidnapping had reached all the way to this old man driving a rickety old cart, and despite the fact that she knew news traveled fast, she took it as a sign that they were, indeed, getting closer to Yarul.

"Uh, we were on our way back home," Jasta said, hoping the old man wouldn't suddenly realize that Rowan was a Risk. If they could get a ride in the back of his cart as long as he was on the same route as them, then getting home would be much quicker. She peered into the cart. It was filled with sacks of something, and a few wooden crates.