I thanked Telda and Jude profusely before stepping outside, ensuring the road was clear before running across it and slipping into the forest, where I could follow its guidance without being noticed. After only half an hour of walking, I heard horses in the distance, and tucked myself behind a tree to watch the riders pass. They were heading toward Endwever, and I wondered if they were the same horsemen who had visited Telda.
When they’d gone, I continued ahead, trying to keep a good pace. Trying also to calm my thoughts. If a star mother had returned alive before Endwever’s torch had been lit, how might I have reacted? Surely I would have believed it a miracle. Surely I would have been fascinated by her. I could not disparage the people of Endwever for feeling that way, even if Father Aedan and his wife were . . . overly enthusiastic. I wouldn’t bow to their will, but neither did I want to carry any fear with me that was not necessary for my survival. I was a woman alone in an unfamiliar world, but I desperately wanted to be happy in it.
The road turned; I thought it was away from Nediah, but surely it would right itself eventually. Nediah was too big a city for any main northbound road not to lead to it. Following the turn, I had to step away from the trees for a while, which made me uneasy, but I’d already left Terasta behind. I spied one more farm, but it was too far north for anyone to notice a lone woman passing by. I dared not wander too far from the road, for villages in Helchanar were so few and far between I could travel for days and easily miss them.
I looked skyward, twisting my ring so its center line flashed from amber to black and back again. I wondered how much I could sell such a ring for, or what it was even made of. Yet I had so few allies; I did not want to barter away my only connection to the one with actual power.
“Could You just pick me up and plop me down where I need to be?” I asked, chin tilted back. But I had the distinct impression Sun wasn’t listening. Likely He wasn’t able to. Perhaps He was divided again, and the light in the sky was only a portion of Him, while His other half dealt with the moon. Perhaps this ring was useless, merely a parting gift meant to make me look pretty.
Maybe I would sell it.
I took a few deep breaths and tried to orient myself. Nediah was northwest of Endwever. I would follow the road and wait for it to angle northwest. If I crossed paths with someone friendly, I could ask for directions.
The road straightened, and after a few hours, I found myself again enveloped by trees. I ate some of Telda’s bread, constantly scanning my surroundings and listening for sounds of human or predatory life. The small creatures of the forest I passed seemed completely indifferent to me, which came as a relief after the wolves and the bandits and the people of Endwever. Different though I may have become, in my mind I was still a mortal woman, nearly twenty-one years of age, misplaced in time. I was no god, demigod, or godling. I was nothing to worship. I had not conquered some great feat by surviving what other women had not. I had no idea why I had woken to the glass roses on my chest when I could have sworn I looked Death in the eye. Then again, I had always been a fanciful person, much to my parents’ chagrin. Perhaps my fancies had simply gotten the better of me.
I shuddered involuntarily, my hand again touching my stomach. An unpleasant feeling went up my spine, almost like a chill, except it burned hot, similar to the fiery contractions I’d felt before going into labor. Leaning against a tree, I waited for the sensation to go away, and relaxed when it did.
I had not gone far—perhaps a mile—when I heard a clamoring of horse hooves in the forest. I turned toward the road, only to realize I’d wandered away from it and the hoofbeats were coming from the trees to the south. Unsure if the rider would prove to be my salvation or another bandit, I stowed away behind an old oak, peeking out in the direction of the sound. It came closer, closer . . . and I spied a horse without a rider. It didn’t even wear a saddle.
It was possibly the loveliest creature I’d ever seen.
The stallion was dark and large, what I imagined a warhorse must look like. Its mane and tail were like midnight, with faint purple hues. Its body was strong and lithe. But as soon as it passed beneath a ray of Sunlight, I realized it was no normal horse, for the light passed through it, highlighting its spectral quality. It was then I noticed there was no trail for it to gallop on; the trees clustered in too many places. Yet it passed right through them, as though it ran in a field and not a forest.
I gaped, no longer hiding myself as I should be. What sort of godling is this?
The horse grew close and almost passed me, running about thirty feet to the south. But it slowed as it neared me, rearing its head silently, nostrils flaring as it sniffed the air.