Chaos (14 page)

His stomach churned with nervousness about the journey, though there was some excitement there, too. He'd never been further than Two Mill, and they'd only ever stayed there long enough to buy supplies for the village before turning around and going home again.

To see the famous city of Raven Knoll and the legendary temple of Unheilvol that resided there …

Would his fate be a good one? A simple one? A terrible one? What was in store for him? Would he face it bravely, or collapse, or go mad? Mercy of the Lost Licht, he hoped he did not go mad from hearing his fate. What if he did and no one was there to take him home and he wandered the streets a mad penitent—

"Shh," Sasha said, reaching out in the dark, touching his cheek. "Your thoughts are louder than the howling wind, David. Go to sleep."

David tried to reply, but exhaustion overwhelmed him as quickly as that, and he drifted off thinking that Sasha's sneaky spells were worse than his big ones.

When he woke, the room was still dark, and the glow of the fire had faded, but he was still incredibly warm—almost too warm, but it was so much better than being cold.

The first time it had happened, he had been confused and then mortified. Every night, at some point while he slept, he moved to curl up against Sasha's chest, his head tucked in neatly beneath Sasha's chin. He could feel every breath Sasha drew, his heartbeat … and the arm that Sasha had draped over him.

David had no idea why he kept doing it, or why Sasha seemed content with it—while he slept, anyway. He did not want to know how Sasha would react if he woke and found David so boldly pressed against him. Though he knew he should move, it felt so comfortable, so warm, that he could not bring himself to do it. Sasha made a soft noise, murmured nonsensically, and his arm tightened briefly around David.

He'd never slept with someone else, except Killian when they traveled together because inn beds were expensive and it was safer out in the open. That wasn't anything like being curled up with Sasha in a bed that was plenty big enough for them both. It should have felt stranger, but try as he might, David could not find it strange. The only thing that surprised him about it was how right it felt—and that Sasha had not yet caught him. He kept waiting for the day when Sasha woke and angrily ordered him to the floor.

Except he had the feeling that if Sasha thought one of them should leave the bed, he would insist on leaving it himself and letting David stay in it. He hoped Sasha stayed asleep. It would be their last night in a bed together and David wanted one last chance to enjoy the bone-deep comfort of sleeping in Sasha's arms. Settling back in, closing his eyes, David slid back into sleep.

When he woke again, he could feel it was close to dawn. He was so accustomed to rising before the sun, it was natural as breathing, or near enough. Sasha was already gone, and David flushed hot to think he'd woken up and found David clinging to him like a kitten to its mother at super time. Hastily getting out of bed, he stripped it and tucked all the blankets away into a wooden chest so they would come to no harm while he was gone.

Next, he put out the fire in the stove, cleaned it out, and made absolute certain there was nothing that would accidentally catch fire. He was just finishing up when Sasha reappeared, dusted with snow and smelling of the fresh bread and cheese he carried. He wrapped it all up and tucked it away in one of his bags. David realized then that the saddlebags were gone, traded somewhere for a knapsack that was better for walking.

"All set?" Sasha asked, pulling on his cloak, sliding his arms through the holes cut for it, and closing it down the front. Then he pulled on the knapsack and fastened it into place before settling a fur cap on his head and pulling on fur-lined gloves.

David quietly pulled on his own gear and pack, then gave his home one last look around, swallowing the lump in his throat. He'd be back in half a year or so—at worst a year. It was hardly forever, and after that journey he would probably never leave home on such a long journey again.

So why did it feel like he was looking on his home for the last time?

Nodding, brushing the thought way, he finally said, "Ready."

"The snow is falling lightly, and I've got fresh food and some hot ale for when we stop to eat," Sasha said. He lightly gripped the back of David's neck, squeezing reassuringly, his touch warm even through layers of fabric and fur. "Let's be off."

They left the village heading north, the crunch of their feet in the snow the only real sound in the quiet of the dark morning. The moon still gleamed high above, not yet banished by the sun. His breaths misted in the winter air, and his face was already beginning to feel the effects of the cold, but David only pulled up his face mask and kept walking.

He paused right at the edge of the Shadow Forest and turned back, but Black Hill was already mostly hidden by the falling snow, little more than patches of black and curls of gray smoke. Swallowing tears, he nodded in farewell to it, then turned and followed Sasha into the dark of the woods.

Time was hard to judge in the forest. It was, in fact, easy to lose track of everything. It was a bit like wandering a house that seemed empty, should be empty, but every now and again there was the nagging sense he was being watched. He could not wait until they left the forest behind.

Sasha really could not wait to reach another town. His brief stay in Black Hill had reminded him of the comforts of civilization, and he wanted them back. They had only been travelling three days and had a great many more to go, but he was already sick of it. He had not travelled so hard in the dead of winter for a long time. He wondered with a sigh how he knew that, but nothing about those previous trips, or why they had ceased, came to mind.

He was long past tired of being a mystery to himself.

David's sharp intake of breath drew his attention and Sasha turned sharply—then drew his whip and struck, the cracking sound echoing through the dark woods. The baby Sentinel he'd hit reared back from the sound and the pain. Sasha hit it again—once, twice, thrice. When it was disoriented and helpless, he drew his sword and brought it down on the Sentinel's neck, severing it just enough to be fatal.

They backed away hastily from the thrashing, dying Sentinel and continued on their way. "This forest is strange," Sasha said. "It's like it's … aware or something. It's so dense that it's hard to keep track of time."

That earned him an odd look, but as usual, David attributed the lack of knowledge to Sasha's curse. It was endearing, if somewhat alarming, how naïve the boy could be. Sasha would take advantage of it, at least to a point, to further his goals, but it also made him want to protect David and make certain nobody ever took that naivety away.

His mind immediately went from thoughts of protecting David to memories of waking up curled around David, who had been warm and pliant and comfortable in his arms. An ache twisted, hard and sharp, in his chest, made his eyes sting.

But he didn't know
why
and it was more infuriating than usual. Fires, he would do anything to break the curse. He did not dare do it himself, when there was no telling what removing it—or removing it incorrectly—would do. If he had to put up with it much longer, however, he might just try.

"It's called the Shadow Forest," David finally said, looking around at the high, looming trees, the canopy of leaves and snow that blotted out nearly all of the light. "They say it covers most of Schatten, that it appeared the day Lord Teufel sealed Schatten away forever. The Sentinels make their home here, and I've heard some say that buildings from long ago can be found—but that those who find them never find their way back."

"That sounds ominous," Sasha said. It also sounded like the forest was a labyrinth, and likely a shifting one. He'd read of such magic …

He could see the book in his mind. It had been a gift. An old book, one he'd thought long vanished from the world. Sorcery was outlawed and many books written by and for sorcerers had been destroyed, but a few had survived the centuries, and one of them had discussed the reshaping of nature.

It took more power and ability than he possessed. The shaping of nature should be left to the gods. When it was not, far worse things that the Shadow Forest emerged.

"Is any part of this landscape not dangerous?" Sasha asked. "The mountains were crawling with Sentinels, but they were plenty dangerous all on their own, especially with the snow making it impossible to judge the lay of the land."

David frowned at him. "The Sentinels, the forest, the mountains—all are meant to protect Schatten from the outside, from those who would bring harm to us, to Lord Teufel, those who seek to finish what they started in destroying Licht."

"Mm," Sasha said, and he paused as a tree caught his eyes—rather, the terrible claws marks on it. Many of the trees were marked so, as if a Sentinel had lashed out in anger. Sasha wasn't certain he wanted to know what would make a Sentinel so angry when, as near as he could tell, no one but he had ever attacked them.

"It wants to mate," David said, and Sasha turned toward him. "It was looking for a female. They don't move as much; the females are much bigger than the males. The one that left these marks on the trees was probably a young bull in his first heat; they're the only ones that claw randomly at things like this."

"A pity they're such a menace, because they sound fascinating," Sasha replied. "I have never seen anything like them."

David frowned at him, and Sasha realized he was getting far too careless about pretending to be a sorcerer. Well, trying to explain himself would only make it worse. Best to move on and hope the slip was forgotten.

"So you said the next town we'll encounter is Oak Hill?"

"Yes," David said slowly, still eying him warily. "We should reach it in a couple more days. If we're really lucky, we can get horses there, but I don't know that we'll be so fortunate. Winter has never been this bad before, and with the barriers fallen, people will be even more cautious. They may not let us into the town at all. Black Hill will start turning people away soon just because supplies are going to run low if this lasts too long. There's so much ill-omen in the air …" He worried at his lower lip, which was already red and swollen from where he frequently did that.

Sasha had a sudden, sharp desire to worry that mouth with his own teeth, give David something much more interesting to think about than ill omens. "I'm sure Black Hill will relax now that I'm gone."

"And me," David said softly, sadly. "Everyone considers me ill luck because of my parents. They whisper that I should have been left to die, that I wasn't meant to be if my parents left me when I was still a babe. They tried to run away, up the mountain and out of Schatten."

"I'm sure they left you because whatever they were doing, they did not want you to die if they failed," Sasha said. "Near as I can tell, they knew they were going to fail."

David nodded, but the sorrow on his face was heartbreaking. "Why wasn't I good enough for them to stay?"

Pain sliced through Sasha then, a wound so old and deep that, for a moment, he couldn't breathe.  He looked at David, the pain and confusion and longing in his face, and did not have the heart to say that sometimes people were simply selfish and did not care who they hurt by their actions. That there was no sense in wasting energy on people like that. David made him wish that wasn't true, and Sasha sensed it had been a very long time since he'd met anyone who made him that stupid. "The hardest thing we can do in life is leave a loved one behind. I don't think it was that you were not good enough. I think they wanted to make certain the way was safe before they came back for you. Schatten is a land of fate, a land where nothing ever really changes. Yet they tried to break free, anyway, tried to defy fate. No doubt it scared them, especially since they did not know what they would find on the other side of the mountain. If they failed, you were safe. If they made it, they could build a new, safe life for you."

"I never thought of that," David said softly.

Sasha mustered a smile. "As I said, one of the hardest things we can do in life is leave a loved one behind. When we do, it is because we love them and want only the best for them."

"Do you have family? Did you have to leave them behind to become a sorcerer?"

"I …" A memory flared to life in Sasha's head like a painting in a room lit only by a single candle. A woman, close to his age. She was beautiful, familiar, and definitely felt like family. "A … sister, I think. I don't remember clearly. But yes, I did have to leave her to do what was necessary."

David reached out and lightly touched his arm, then withdrew, smiling shyly. "I'm sorry. She must be proud of you, though. Those gifted with the diamond of magic are rare. They say there are not even three hundred sorcerers in the whole country. I think Black Hill has more people than that."

Sasha laughed. "If it has more than three hundred people, it is not by much." He winked. "As to the number of sorcerers … magic is a powerful thing, and the more people who have it, the more it will be abused. There is a lot to be said for magic, but there is also much to be said about not needing it. Oh, I think we're coming to a clearing."

"That'll be the pond," David said, and he quickened his step. Sasha followed him, curious as to what was so special about this pond that David's face would brighten that way. The clearing, when they reached it, showed signs of frequent use as a campsite. There was a fire pit, a pile of firewood carefully stored under an overhang, and the area around the fire pit had been cleared so that sleeping would be as comfortable as possible.

Far to one edge was, as David had said, a little pond. It was frozen over, but not by much. Sasha crouched down beside David as he broke through the ice with the hilt of the hunting knife he carried. When the ice cracked, he sheathed the knife and removed his gloves to pick at the broken chunks of ice to move them out of the way.

When the ice was clear, leaving a patch of green-blue water bare, he pulled his gloves back on. He smiled up at Sasha, eager and bright and so
young.
Sasha had not once seen David act so much his age; he generally acted like someone several years older and had shadows in his eyes no young man should possess.