Delric finished the last line of his glyphspell and held it up. “All done!”
“Stop it!” Maela whined, scribbling frantically. Her lines looked far too uneven to make a proper circle, but she was clearly trying to rush.
Delric leaned over the table to get a better look at her work, but she put an arm around the paper, glowering at him. “Stop it!”
He grinned. “I could help you.”
She just stuck her tongue out at him.
He fell back in his chair and announced, “I’m done!”
A figure stepped around a nearby set of bookshelves. “Please don’t shout in the library, Delric.”
He expected Muraan, but it was his mother.
His mother.
Queen Alaera.
She wore a flowing, light blue dress, perfectly tailored but less ornate than her usual fair, which meant she wasn’t expected at the testing site today. Her dark hair was tied back in an artfully messy braid, and her hands were folded neatly in her sleeves as she smiled at him.
Delric paused. He felt confused by the sight of her, but he couldn’t remember why. “Is Highmage Muraan coming later?”
“I suspect he’ll be gone for the day,” she said. “You say you finished your spell?”
Delric grinned. “Yes.”
“I’m not done!” Maela cried.
“That’s all right, take your time,” Alaera walked around the table to Delric. “Let’s take a look.”
Delric slid the paper over to her and waited, trying not to fidget. He knew he got it right. He always got it right.
“Hmm, this is wrong,” she said.
“What? No it’s not,” he said, his confidence waning.
“It’s an easy fix. Here.” She took the pencil from him and started writing on his work.
He almost protested—he didn’t want the answer given to him—but he felt a growing desperation to understand.
“There.” She slid the paper back to him.
He looked down, but his work was suddenly gibberish. It looks nothing like a proper glyphspell.
He frowned, his frustration quickly mounting. “I don’t know what that means.”
“Never give in to emotions at the cost of reason,” she said.
“Never give in to reason at the cost of heart,” he said quickly, rolling his eyes. “But that doesn’t mean anything!”
“Oh, it means quite a lot. See?” She gestured to the rest of the library.
He followed her gaze.
The library was on fire.
Flames engulfed every shelf in sight, even the walls, even the window that had been streaming sunlight just a moment ago, so bright they almost hurt to look at. Books and scrolls were just vague silhouettes among the burning, not quite ashes yet. Bright sparks swirled in the air. Only their table seemed untouched.
Delric thought he should be panicking, but no one else was. Maela kept working on her spell. Alaera smiled down at him. Perhaps it would be bad to say something about what he saw; perhaps if he acknowledged the fire directly, it would get worse.
“Do you want to try again?” Alaera asked kindly.
Suddenly, he didn’t. His skin felt hot, as if he would burst into flames all on his own.
“I know a volume that might help you understand,” Alaera added.
Delric did not look at the fire as he asked. “Can you go get it for me?”
“Certainly.” Alaera turned.
A sword protruded from her back, blood running down her dress.
Maela looked up and screamed.
The fire flared.
Delric shot upright, his glasses tumbling off his face and onto his lap.
He was not in the palace library. He was in a small, dilapidated shed, the smell of burned beans filling the space, the crinkling sound of straw under him as he shuffled.
A man stood over him.
“Apologies, Lord First,” Gallad said, his hand still on Delric’s shoulder, as if to steady him. “We’re ready to go as soon as you are.”
Bryn muttered to herself as she poured dirt on the fire in the fireplace. She glanced up, and their eyes met. Her frustration quickly melting to curiosity, a pinch in her brow looking a bit too much like concern.
He looked away quickly, struggling to rearrange his expression. His skin was cold and clammy, sweat gathering around his collar. He thought he could still smell the smoke, the heat. It was a shock to remember that he was not in the palace. He forced himself to acknowledge reality.
He was in the Valley of Soln, trapped under the Barrier.
His sister was missing.
His mother was dead.
“Are you well, Lord First?” Gallad said.
“Yes,” Delric said, busying himself with wiping his glasses on the edge of his coat. “I’m ready.”
***
They left the cabin just as the sun was rising over the mountains, the air bringing a crisp, cool breeze of spring. Gallad and Bryn had managed to find enough supplies to give each of them a sack.
“We should be able to reach our destination by this afternoon,” Gallad said, “which means I’d prefer we didn’t stop unless absolutely necessary.”
Delric nodded. He would much prefer they didn’t risk sleeping outside anymore.
At Gallad’s insistence, they walked in a line, with Bryn leading while Gallad took up the rear.
“I can take the rear Ga—Sir Gallad,” Bryn insisted. “It’s more dangerous.”
“That is correct, Bryn,” Gallad said. “You will take lead.”
Bryn looked worried but didn’t argue further, surprisingly. Delric couldn’t help but agree with her; Gallad looked more haggard than Delric had ever seen him, and the knight had refused to take extra rations.
During last night’s discussion, he and Gallad had come to the same conclusion: their best bet was to find a glyphspell testing site.
All the lightgates in the valley had been disabled—Delric knew that, as their sister lightgates in the Lindiran palace had gone dark on the night of the Chasm—but there was still a chance they could find a means of communicating with the palace.
“I believe King Alaric had a means of communicating with the different testing sites, something more direct that using messengers or the lightgates. If we can find that, we might be able to get in touch with the palace.”
Delric nodded, thinking of the device his father used to speak with Queen Cathena of Dherilis. It would be a considerable stroke of luck, finding such a device still in tact—most magical inventions were carefully regulated and only shared with a few—but they had few other options.
Delric had also noted with some concern that their pathing was slowly winding them closer to the Chasm itself, towards the center of the valley.
“If we see any signs of danger as we get closer, we’ll find another route,” Gallad insisted, “even if it adds several days to our travel time. It’s not worth the risk.”
Delric nodded, but he felt hopelessness claw at his insides like a drowning rat. If there were a means of surpassing the Barrier, wouldn’t it have been discovered already? What were the odds that they would merely stumble upon a way to do so?
But Gallad did not seem the type to entertain false hope. Perhaps it wasn’t unreasonable to think they could get out of here.
This would now be their third day trapped in the valley; time seemed to be bleeding past Delric at an unnatural pace. Did Alaric know what had happened yet? Had he already ordered an attack on Dherilis? Would it even occur to him where Delric might be right now?
And what of Maela? What of these Night Keepers. It turned out that there were far more variables to account for than Delric had believed, so it was nearly impossible to predict what was happening in the outside world.
The Night Keepers were such a difficult variable to work with that Delric’s mind seemed unwilling to give them proper consideration. How did one plan for such a group? Could they be working with Dherilis? Did they have spies in Lindiran? The possibilities were limitless and therefore exhausting to consider.
There was a chance Gallad was wrong, and it was actually Dherilis who had attacked them. Dherilis discovering the secrets to glypharmor seemed like a more reasonable explanation than the resurgence of some secret order. Though Gallad’s surety on the matter gave Delric pause; he wondered if there was more that the highknight was not divulging.
The rocky terrain of the mines gave way quickly to more rolling hills of green. None of the hills were high enough to see more than a few miles out, but Delric checked their position regularly against the map he had found among the ruins of Chindell. The sky was clear today beyond the Barrier, so it was simple work directing Bryn on which way they should go.
She kept one hand at her hip at all times. Their only weapons on hand were two daggers that Gallad had managed to keep on his person, one of which was now tied at Bryn’s waist. Her head was constantly turning to scan the area. For all her immaturity and complaining, it seemed that she was trained in basic survival.
Satisfied with their current direction, Delric flipped through his notes absently and paused on one of his more recent works: a rough rendering of the giant bat they had faced yesterday. He had sketched the creature to the best of his ability, though it looked less than satisfying without a reference to work with. It didn’t quite have the proportions of a normal bat, but neither had that creature.
“Do you think there are people still alive down here?” Bryn asked randomly.
“No,” Delric said reflexively. “No one survived.”
“But how do you know that? No one’s been down here before.”
Delric felt a flicker of frustration at the question. “Accounts tell the story of a great wave of destruction engulfing the entire valley. The only ones to survive are those who outran it.”
“But there are still living things down here,” she said, reaching for a branch on a tree. “Why isn’t this whole place just…nothing?”
“It’s perfectly predictable for nature to reclaim territory,” Delric said. “There are trees whose life cycle depends on fires claiming part of a forest.”
“And the animals?” Bryn said. “We’ve seen plenty of animals.”
“Those were…deformed.”
“We saw a pack of normal wolves,” Bryn countered, glancing over her shoulder to give him a smirk.
“We don’t know that they were normal,” Delric said, but her comments were distracting him with another line of reasoning. Utter destruction didn’t explain the areas where gravity itself seemed suspended, nor the large mole, nor the giant bat with the glyph of order on its back.
“But if animals could survive,” Bryn pressed, “then maybe some of the people down here also—”
“Enough,” Gallad snapped.
Delric stopped and glanced back, surprised at the highknight’s tone. Gallad looked haggard, his brow heavy. Even Delric felt intimidated.
“No one survived down here,” Gallad insisted. “Do not distract yourself with false hope.”
Delric turned forward to hide his expression. Bryn ducked her head and continued on, clearly embarrassed, but Delric worried that Gallad’s words were for him. Had the highknight somehow guessed what he had been dreaming about this morning? Had Delric said something in his sleep?
He shook his head and focused.
The more he considered them, the more he realized that Bryn’s questions were fair. The giant mole and bat were too strange. Two anomalies was not enough to assume a pattern, but it certainly suggested one. Had the Chasm really caused these mutations? But that was assuming that all anomalies down here were the direct result of the Chasm. It was a reasonable assumption, but it seemed too…simple. They didn’t understand what the Chasm was, so why not blame everything strange on its existence? It was too easy an answer.
Had there ever been such a thing as a glyphmarked animal before? He hadn’t heard of such a thing, but that didn’t prove anything either way. Perhaps the legends of dragons or griffins—creatures whose physical nature seemed to deny natural laws—might suggest something of the sort, but the potential connection seemed weak.
It was too big a question for just him and a single notebook to figure out. Again, he missed having Muraan around to discuss such theories. Muraan would be polite but quick to tell him how outlandish his theory was.
His mother would as well.
He shook his head, frustrated at his mind for betraying him. This was not the time for such thoughts. This was a time for unrelenting pragmatism.
He glanced up just as they walked past a line of trees, the sun quickly becoming obscured by a tall canopy. He glanced around, but the trees kept going. A forest? He swapped his notebook for the map and unfolded it.
“Did you alter our course?” Delric asked.
“No,” Bryn said defensively.
“We’ve been heading due north all morning,” Gallad insisted. “Is there a problem?”
Delric frowned at his map. “We should be getting close to the testing site,” he insisted. “Just a mile or two, I think.”
“And?”
“There shouldn’t be a forest between us and it.”
Bryn looked. “Uh.
Gallad came up behind him to look at the map. “Is there a forest near the site?”
“The closest one is the one we just came from, near the Nurin River,” Delric said. “There’s nothing like this for miles.”
Bryn turned in a circle. “I’ll be sure to let the forest know that.”
Delric glanced up to give her an exasperated glance, but she just smirked.
Still, it was too strange to ignore. A single magical anomaly causing the spontaneous creation of a forest? Delric fought the urge to swap the map for his notebook. Could three unrelated anomalies be considered a pattern?
Delric glanced at Gallad. “I defer to your judgment. Do you think it’s safe?”
Gallad paused, his eyes darting around the trees. “An uncharted forest is never ideal, but you say we’re a mile out?”
“Two at most,” Delric said.
Gallad nodded. “I don’t think it’s worth redirecting our course just yet. If we sense trouble, we’ll double back and approach from a different direction. Bryn, stay alert.”
“Yes sir,” she said, straightening.
“Lord First, I would ask that you remain vigilant as well.”
Delric nodded and folded his map. The canopy was thick enough that the map would be difficult to read anyway.
Bryn glanced back. “Is this a good idea?”
“I’m surprised you’re the one worried,” Delric said. “You’re the most likely one to survive a surprise.”
“I know, it’s just—” She turned in another circle. “This place feels…strange.”
Delric waited for a proper explanation, but she didn’t give one, her gaze flitting from tree to tree. Her hands clenched and unclenched themselves at her sides.
A heavy hand appeared on Delric’s shoulder, startling him.
“We’ll be fine,” Gallad insisted. “Stay in formation, stay together.”
Delric nodded.
Bryn led the way through, her hand on the hilt of her dagger. She kept a slower pace than usual, glancing back occasionally to check to make sure they were together.
Delric glanced up at the sky, squinting to get a decent bearing on the sun. They were still heading in the right direction, but the foliage only seemed to be getting thicker.
Bryn stopped, holding out an arm. “Listen,” she whispered.
Delric paused. “I don’t hear anything.”
“Me neither.” She looked around. “That’s not good.”
Delric thought it was plenty good—no animals meant no predators—but he realized there were no birds either. No ground squirrels, no snakes in the brush. Not even a cricket chirping.
“We’re making a lot of noise,” Bryn said, “but we should hear something.”
“We’re not making much noise,” Delric countered.
“Well, you are.”
“I am not.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “You are stepping on every twig there ever—” Her gaze slid past him. “Gallad?”
Delric turned.
Gallad was not there.
“Gallad?” she called again, stepping around Delric. “Gallad!”
Delric looked around, turning in a full circle, but there was no sign of the highknight. As if he hadn’t been there in the first place.
“Gallad!” she shouted.
“Is that wise?” Delric said, his nerves growing.
“We have to find him,” she said, her tone high with panic. “He wouldn’t just leave us like that.”
“No, he wouldn’t,” Delric said. “Let’s retrace our steps.”
He was hesitant to alter their course—direction felt difficult to discern under such thick foliage—but they had only been walking for about fifteen minutes or so. He couldn’t have gone far.
Bryn surged a head, then stopped and looked back, watching Delric struggle through brush to catch up. She studied him with a thoughtful expression.
“You’re not carrying me,” he said.
“I could go faster if—”
“No,” he said, fumbling for a decent excuse. “You need your hands free in case we run into trouble.”
Bryn frowned, apparently satisfied. “I’m going to climb a tree for a better view,” Bryn said. “Stay here.”
She jumped a good ten feet before catching a branch and swinging herself upward. In a matter of moments, she was out of sight.
Delric wanted to point out that such thick foliage wouldn’t be solved with a better vantage point, but he didn’t think shouting was a good idea.
He glanced around, putting a hand on the tree she had climbed so he didn’t lose track. Silence quickly filled the space around him, pressing on him almost like a force. It was hard to ignore the fact that he was alone now.
His hand twitched for his notebook, but he resisted. He needed to remain vigilant.
A slight shimmer caught his attention on the tree he stood beside. He leaned closer to inspect it. The bark itself was actually a normal color, a dark brown, though it had a grayish tint to it. But the bark also featured strange veins, which seemed…black? Or blue? They reflected light strangely depending on what angle Delric viewed them from. The leaves seemed green at first glance, but upon closer inspection, Delric thought they looked blue, almost gray.
He had never been very interested in botany, but he couldn’t fathom what kind of trees these could be. And were the veins moving?
His foot nudged something hard. He glanced down and saw something pale white peak through the undergrowth. Past feeling disturbed, he forced himself to kneel down and look. He tried picking up the piece, but it didn’t move. He brushed away the dead leaves.
A bone.
He withdrew his hand instinctively, but the bone looked old and too small to be human. A squirrel skull, perhaps? Except that it was wedged in the root of the tree, as if the tree itself had grown around it. How could that—
“Delric?”
Delric stood, relieved, even as his mind registered that the voice wasn’t one he expected.
He turned.
A figure stood among the bushes, a mere ten paces away.
It wasn’t Bryn. It wasn’t Gallad.
It was his mother.
***
Hope you enjoyed this sneak peek of FOREST OF THE LOST! Book 3 coming soon!
Jennifer San Filippo 