Page 20 of Burn Bright
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Sometime during the middle of the morning, we reached the boundary of the Heart of theForest.
Thorns and brambles laced together, cutting off the narrow track we'd been following. The men barely spoke, and even the horse's soft whickers had vanished during the course of the morning, as the light that managed to seep through the vast canopy slowlydwindled.
"Here we are, my prince," I called, gesturing to the thicket in front of us. "This is the edge of theHeart."
"Vashta's tits," Hussar spat, digging his spurs into his horse's sweating flanks and driving it forward. He kicked at a thorn bush, and of course it merelyshook.
Idiot.
"Perhaps if you glare at it a little harder it might remove itself?" Isuggested.
The glare transformed itself to me, and Hussar swung off his horse inelegantly, leaving the horse to shy away. "Surely there's got to be some way aroundthis."
"Not as far as I've seen." I gestured along the wall of brambles. "Though you're quite welcome to search forit."
Slinging my pack off my back, I sat on a fallen log and crossed my heels, prepared towait.
Hussar withdrew his sword. "I'll remove it myself. Axesout!"
The huntsmen swung off their horses, breaking out their axes. Soon they were stripping off their heavy coats, as sweat began to gleam. The brambles seemed never-ending. I took a wizened old apple out of my pack and nibbled onit.
"I wonder what made the thorns grow like that," Evaron mused, seating himself besideme.
Apparently princes didn't get their handsdirty.
The wall of thorns was remarkably straight. Someone either planted it, or these were magically grownthorns.
Witch-grown.
The thought shivered through me as I chewed mechanically. "Did Casimir tellyou—"
"Yes," Evaron said, cutting me off mid-sentence.
And we were not to speak of it in front of the men. Evaron's pleasant expression neverwavered.
"It seems wrong," I whispered. "They should know. They should be able to preparethemselves."
Something had warned us. And we hadn't heeded thatwarning.
"This is Gravenwold," I stressed. Mad king or not, Fire Priests or not, Gravenwold was the blade at our throats. We would have to survive the woods, to be able to worry about the seismic ripples denying King Euric's decree wouldcause.
"It's different in the cities," Evaron murmured. He looked at me. "Out here you grow up hearing stories of your Old Ways; to cast salt around the house to ward off evil spirits; to gift the forest with a sacrifice in return for your safety within. In the cities we believe in the Way of the Light. The Light will protect us. And if it doesn't, then it is because we let Darkness into our hearts." He wavered, looking at his huntsmen. "These men were raised in the cities. They believe in the Light. Let us not put shadows in their hearts, not just yet, or we may open the way for Darkness toenter."
Sounded like a heap of frogshit tome.
"All the better to prepare them," I pointed out, casting the apple core into the bushes for the squirrels to consume. "What happens when something leaps out and rips their throats out because they're not ready forit?"
He smiled, and patted my knee. "You yourself have said you've only been this way once, and you came across no monsters then. You remind me of Cas—all grim warnings and dire consequences. We've made it this far, haven'twe?"
Unbidden, my gaze slid to the prince's Hound. Casimir's dark hair served as stark counter-point to his red cape, but it was his eyes that arrested me. I shivered. "He sounds like a smartman."
And we are not alike. Not at all. Despite a certain sense ofpragmatism.
"Are you trying to cast doubt on my intelligence?" Evaronlaughed.
I shrugged. "You're the one who doesn't believe inmonsters."
