Jade's Arc

Chapter 2 of 7

Jade shut the cottage door and walked to the paddock. Her stallion stood waiting, silver-dappled coat bright against the pines. She tightened the saddle, slid the white bow into its sheath, and lifted the small stoat from her shoulder into the deep hood of her cloak. He curled there at once and closed his eyes. She swung up and turned the horse toward the deep trees. She rode hard. The path she knew ran north along the ridge, but she left it inside an hour and pushed the horse between the trunks. Branches scraped her sleeves. She wanted distance more than direction. Every mile put another wall of pine between her and the road her father's soldiers would use. By noon the pines began to thin. Red leaves showed through the green ahead. She slowed the horse and stared. She had never seen this part of the wood. The birches and firs gave way to broad maples, and the ground under their roots turned to a carpet of orange and rust. A narrow deer trail led forward under the low branches. She should have turned back. She knew the shape of her own forest, and this was not it. She had crossed a border without seeing it. But turning back meant riding toward the guard, and she would not do that. She clicked her tongue and the horse stepped onto the leaf-covered trail. The stoat lifted his head from her hood and chirped. Something moved in the branches above her. Jade reached for the bow. A small orange shape darted between two maples, wings catching the light like stained glass. A dragon no bigger than a hawk landed on a branch ahead and tilted its head at her. It made a sound like a kettle. Then it lifted again and flew deeper into the maples, looking back once. She followed. She did not decide to; the horse simply kept walking, and she did not stop him. The trail widened. Around the next bend she saw a boy in a brown vest standing in the path, one hand raised toward the dragon as it settled on his wrist. His hair was the color of the leaves above him. He looked up and saw her and did not move. Neither did she. Her hand was still on the bow, but she had not drawn it. "You're on Maple ground," the boy said. His voice was steady, not unkind. "My father's ground. I'm Felix." Jade lowered her hand from the bow but kept her seat in the saddle. She was miles from where she thought she was, in a wood she did not know, speaking to a prince whose name she had never heard. Behind her lay soldiers. Ahead lay a country she had not chosen. The stoat climbed to her shoulder and watched the boy, and Jade realized she would have to answer him.