Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Inside the wall, on the street in front of the house, the shapeshifters were going through the last equipment checks before we set out. Each one carried a small packet of panacea, the complex herbal remedy that helped prevent loupism; knives or other weapons they’d been trained with; a canteen of safe drinking water; and packs of high-calorie trail mix, nuts, jerky, cheese, and chocolate.
Heather’s archers were going through a similar check. Penderton’s town guard had shown up this morning and informed us that they would be assisting. We got eight archers, and Curran had had to modify our strategy slightly to account for the surprise auxiliary. We were fielding fourteen shapeshifters, including Darin, my husband, and my son, and three not-shapeshifters—me, Rimush, and Jushur. Someone would need to protect the archers, and that someone couldn’t be me because I was taking point.
According to the old Google Maps, the site of the former hill lay about 19.7 miles away from Burgaw. The top walking speed of a human hiker was about three miles per hour. Expecting people to walk twenty miles straight into a battle was unrealistic. Everyone would be exhausted. Also, we would likely get hit along the way. If this was a hike through dense woods, we’d have to budget two to three days for it, but our situation was different.
We wouldn’t be cutting through the forest as the crow flies. We would be taking the old NC-53, heading west, and then we would turn onto US-421 North. Both roads were too overgrown and too damaged by the forest to be accessible by vehicle, but they still provided a relatively clear route for human hikers. There were other options, like Piney Woods Road or State Road 1332, but both of those were narrower and therefore in worse shape. Our route added another mile to our trek; however, walking would be a lot easier. Shapeshifters would have no problem, and Heather assured me that all of her people could handle the hike.
We weren’t the first group to try entering the woods via the old roads. Isaac had taken 421 too, at some point. But all those groups had had to wade through the territory claimed by the forest, and the farther in they went, the deeper the magic ran. Sooner or later, the power behind it managed to push them off the roads into the wilderness.
We wouldn’t have that problem.
The plan was simple. Go in until noon, less if we had to fight our way through. Stop. Make camp. Rest. Keep going. If the night caught us before we got there, we would camp again. Shapeshifters had an advantage in the dark, but I needed daylight. Also, I would be tired as hell by the end of this march, and a lot of that final fight was riding on me.
I put my hand on Conlan’s shoulder. Every muscle on his back was tight. He was like a kitten watching a butterfly dancing in the wind.
He glanced at me. “The archers will slow us down. And we have to protect them. We should leave them here.”
“Fighting a war involves more than just calculating the odds. I’ve claimed Penderton, but I told them that I would never interfere in their governance. The decision to send the archers came from the town council. They are volunteers, and they come as allies rather than subordinates.”
“It’s not safe for them.”
“Wars are not safe for anyone. They’re brave. We must respect that. How would you feel if we left you behind?”
He looked back at the forest. “You’re my parents. I can’t just wait here… I want to help.”
“So do they.”
“But they will make things harder for us.”
A little of my father coming through. I needed to deal with that here and now.
“For five years the forest has terrorized them. It killed people in the town square. It demanded human sacrifice. Yesterday, it killed two of their own right in front of them. A boy about Darin’s age who was guarding the tower in front of our house. A manticore grabbed him off the wall and broke his neck. How do you think they feel?”
He seemed to consider it. “They are angry.”
“People are ruled by their emotions, Conlan, and anger is one of the most powerful emotions we can experience. It can fester if you don’t vent it. Always take that into account.”
“Are you angry?” he asked.
“Very.”
“Because of the boy who died?”
“Yes. And because of other things the power in the forest has done. It has no regard for the value of life, human or animal. Your father and I will end this today.”
“Is Dad angry too?”
“Yes.”
“He never gets angry.”
Oh, you have no idea.
Conlan looked back at the woods. Logic told me that he was only eight, but it didn’t seem that way. I was his mother. I gave birth to him, I have raised him, and yet there was something about my son that remained beyond my understanding. Sometimes I wanted to open up his head and see what was going on in there. But then all parents probably felt that way at times.