Aldric Thornwood's Arc

Chapter 9 of 11

The horse broke down at dusk. Aldric felt her stumble on a flat stretch of road, then again on the rise. He pulled her up and slid off. Her sides heaved. Foam ran from the bit. He put a hand on her neck and knew she would not carry him through the night. On foot he had two days of road ahead. The sealed pot in his saddlebag would go to pulp before he reached Sylvana Greene's glass house. He stood in the road with the wolf beside him and tried to think. The wolf pressed hard into his leg. Not danger this time. A steady weight, holding him up. "Aldric." The mushroom girl stepped out from between two pines. Her cap tilted with her head. She was the seer who had hidden the flute player from the smiling woman, and who had already given up part of herself to keep him alive. Her left hand was wrapped in cloth now. New damage. She held her right hand out flat. "You cannot walk it," she said. "And she cannot run it." She nodded at the horse. "I know." His voice came out thin. "Tell me you brought something." "I brought a loan." She stepped aside. Behind her, folded in the moss, lay a carpet. Deep red, edged in yellow and green, tassels at the corners. It sat above the ground by a hand's width, hovering, patient. "It belongs to a friend of a friend," Chanterelle said. "It will fly you east. Once. Then it goes home." Aldric looked at her wrapped hand. "What did this cost you." "A wish I was saving." She almost smiled. "Get on." He pulled the sealed pot from the saddlebag and cradled it against his chest. He loosed the horse's girth and let her stand free. He stepped onto the carpet. It gave under his boot like packed sand. The wolf jumped up beside him without being called. "Stay low," Chanterelle said. "Hold the jar tight. It knows where Sylvana lives." "How." "I told it." The carpet lifted. The tops of the pines slid past his knees, then his waist. Cold air pushed his hair back. He looked down once. Chanterelle raised her good hand. Then the trees closed under him and there was only wind and the dark shape of the ridges rolling east. He held the pot against his ribs. He could feel the wax seam under his thumb, still whole. The roots were alive inside. He would reach the glass house before dawn. The wolf laid her head on his knee. Aldric closed his eyes for one breath, then opened them and watched the land pour past. Somewhere ahead, Sylvana was waiting with her dark leaves already crushed. Somewhere behind, Chanterelle had spent another piece of herself to buy him this night. He would owe her again. First he had to land.