Page 56 of Prince of the Northwest Forest
“Shall we get going again?” I ask.
“Kalle?” Justice says, his voice wary. “What is that?”
I look in the direction he’s pointing.
A hooded figure stands in front of us in the mist. It’s one of the forest oracles. I’ve met them once or twice before, mostly on formal occasions. My stomach drops. What are they doing here now?
Justice leans over to say something else to me, but I raise my finger to my lips. “Oracle,” I whisper to him. Then I bow. “Hello, Zakiya, we are Prince Kalle Hammarskjöld of the Northwest Forest, his companion Justice Laurel, and my security, Hazel and Martin.”
“I know who you are.” Zakiya’s voice is creaky.
“Thank you. Do you know who we seek?”
“You seek your bride.”
“She was taken from me on our wedding day, and I was cursed by a wizard.”
“The wizard was not the one who cursed you. If you find Eleanor, she will explain all. But it is best that you do not marry her.”
That makes me frown. “Why? Isn’t it best for the forest and the fire to be in harmony?”
Zakiya tsks. “Marriage is not the only way to achieve harmony.”
“It is a way of ensuring that a family will keep their word. Knowing that breaking it would harm one of their own.”
“Your path is not linear, and while you must continue the way you are going, it is not the destination you seek.”
Zakiya turns, and I call out, “Wait! Explain yourself!”
But the hooded figure disappears into the fog.
Justice gapes at me. “What was that about?”
“Our oracles are like fortune-tellers. I try not to consult them too often. When they seek you out, it’s not a good sign.”
“Shit.”
“We should keep going. We’ll follow the river for a while longer, until we get to the base of the first mountain at the border of Icedonia.”
For the rest of the afternoon, the four of us trudge alongside the river. The day remains cool and gray, and I worry that Justice is getting too chilled. We’ll have to find somewhere dry to stay tonight—or at least figure out a way to build a fire and dry our clothes.
Toward evening, we’re both tired from being on our feet all day, and we sit by the river while Hazel and Martin drink.
Justice tosses little twigs into the river and watches them float downstream. “You said Mats offered to marry Princess Eleanor, right?” he asks.
“Right.”
He squints. “Then what happened to him?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he just wandered off for a walk and then got kidnapped by the fae.”
“So why couldn’t you delay the wedding?”
“We have a deadline with the fae.”
“That’s awful,” Justice says. “Do you feel resentful of Mats? You’re sacrificing, while he’s getting off without getting hitched.”
“Ask me the real questions, why don’t you?”
