“Yes. The rocky place. Let’s go.”
Working their way down the hill, they meandered through the trees and reached the limestone, searching for any semblance of an opening. They walked back and forth for an hour, and Ava felt more and more lost as time went on.
“I don’t see anything,” she said to Remy as she leaned against a tree and closed her eyes.
“It’s there,” he said from beside her. “Somewhere close.”
At the sound of his voice, she prepared herself for more searching when a rustling sounded in the bushes behind her. She whirled around, dagger in hand, and pushed Remy behind her. The bushes moved again, and she backed away, readying herself to grab him and run if necessary.
The three mice emerged.
“Oh! You came back!” she said as she slid her dagger back into its sheath and crouched down. “Do you know where the cave is?”
Remy watched with curious eyes from beside her. The mice took off toward the hillside, running along the stone, and then disappeared into a small opening she never would have noticed on her own. As she crept closer, the opening appeared, only visible from a particular angle, and they were able to slip inside as dawn was breaking over the horizon. The entrance was an illusion, cleverly hidden among the brush and shadows. It should be impossible for Deidamia’s soldiers to find them unless they knew about this cave already.
She hoped they didn’t.
The entrance was narrow, eventually opening into a small room brightened with the glow of a neon blue fungus growing in the nooks along the walls.
“We’re here.” She smiled down at her friend.
An old bedroll lay against the wall, surrounded by several discarded weapons. A reminder this cave had been used before, but not in a long time if the dust and cobwebs were any indicator. A forgotten sanctuary for a former hunter or perhaps an adventurer looking for a place to sleep for the night. Ava inspected one of the glowing mushrooms on the wall, reaching out her finger and touching the cap gently. It quivered andglowed brighter for a few seconds before returning to its dimmer illumination.
Fascinating.
She set her pack next to a bow and quiver of arrows, relieved at the sight of the familiar weapon. A weapon she knew how to use. A small dagger had also been left behind by the previous occupant.
Settling herself on the bedroll, she unbuckled the belt and laid it next to her, within reach in case she needed the weapon, and then opened her pack and removed the packages inside.
Remy scurried about, cleaning the cave with a fully leaved tree branch he was using like a broom.
“Remy, what are you doing?” Ava asked, curious.
“A dirty cave is no place for the one who saved my life. Too much dust,” he replied.
Ava smiled. “You don’t have to do that. But thank you.”
So, she let him clean, having something to do obviously bringing him peace. It was something she used to do as well, and she understood the comfort of having a task to focus on. Laying the contents of her bag in front of her, she took inventory of her supplies. Her food consisted of several apples, some dried meat wrapped in fabric, hard cheeses and bread. Not much, but hopefully she could make it last until she got to her destination. There were also four small vials containing the tonic Isolde had referenced.
Remy sat down next to her, finished with his cleaning. She handed him an apple and sighed. “Where’s your home?”
He took a bite of the apple. “Deep in the forests of Monterre. Not close to any towns. In a giant tree with my brothers.”
“I’m from the earth kingdom too,” she said.
“I know.”
“How do you know?” She laughed.
“The animals listen when you speak to them.” He smiled.
“I suppose they do. How did you get captured?”
He looked at her with his giant eyes, long pointed ears twitching. “I went too far. I was exploring. My brothers always told me it was a bad idea. Hobgoblins are supposed to stay close to home. We don’texploreor care much for adventure. Or we are not supposed to. But I like it. ’Tis fun. Seeing new things. Learning new things. I feel different than most other hobs.”
Ava smiled as she grabbed an apple for herself. “I know what it means to feel different.”
He surveyed her and tilted his head. “You say that like it’s bad. It is not bad to be different. It is bad to besame.”