Dark One Rising(60)

She saw a rider at the front of the group, wearing a cloak which was pulled tightly, hood pulled down. She could not see his face, but she felt him. Her insides turned cold, and she shuddered. She pulled Tanith from the scabbard. He touched her arm. “Not yet. Keep it hidden until things are desperate.”

She re-sheathed it and looked his way. “I thought you said he hated water, that he couldn’t go anywhere near it.”

“That is what I said.”

“Were you wrong?”

“Could be, but from what I have learned about common wraiths, I’m correct. This wraith doesn’t seem to have a problem with water, however. I would take the time to try and come up with various assumptions, but we have to go.”

He kicked his horse into a gallop, Melenthia right behind him. She pushed her face closer to her horse’s neck to give her more speed. The rain pummeled them, and it dripped in her eyes and stung her face. She did her best to blink to keep her eyes clear, but the hard pounding rain made it difficult. She could see Alekzand’r beside her, but he was blurry in the mist.

They rode hard down the road, pushing their horses on. They had been traveling down the back roads for safety, the old mining roads that used to hold high traffic every day all day, but now were rarely used. Alekzand’r couldn’t figure out how Fallon’s men had tracked them here, and this fast, or how it was that everything he knew about a wraith was somehow wrong. Obviously Fallon had brought from the depths a new creature, one that no one knew about, or perhaps he created one of his own. He shuddered at that thought. He would never have thought Fallon to be that adept in the arts that he could summon a being of his own creation. Obviously, there were things about Fallon that no one knew.

He pulled the map out of his cloak pocket and looked at it, trying to get his bearings on this unfamiliar part of the Dark Woods. He looked to his left, making sure Melenthia was still with him, then motioned her to turn. He took off into the woods, racing between the trees like a mad man. He looked again and saw that she was just behind him and managing to keep up. He knew she was sore, and her head probably still throbbed, but she was riding in step with him without trouble. She was more resilient than he thought she would be, stronger than most women would be. He knew now that he wouldn’t have to worry about her losing speed. With men as relentless as Fallon’s were, she would be driven to get away at all costs.

They weaved in between the trees, and he searched the map for landmarks as they went. If he missed the door into the Sorcerers Wood, they would eventually be caught. He looked over his shoulder and saw the men, not more than a half mile behind them. He slowed down just enough for Melenthia to hear him and leaned over to her.

“When you see the waterfall, there will be a set of three trees standing in a row. Take a sharp right turn there, then another just past the cave entrance. Keep on straight from there and don’t look back.”

“Aren’t you coming?”

“Yes, I’ll be right behind you. I can protect you better, if I’m in the rear.”

“Okay.”

He glanced over his shoulder one more time and saw the men had gained more speed and were almost on top of them. The wraith was sitting low in his saddle, his cape flapping behind him like wings. His red eyes were apparent now under his hood, and Alekzand’r felt a chill race through him.

He prodded his horse on, Melenthia’s horse just ahead. She came to the waterfall with the three lined trees and turned a sharp right, then continued toward the cave. When she saw that, she turned again and drove her horse on.

The men were still gaining, but according to the map, the entrance was coming up fast. He hoped the map was right, He also hoped that over time, the door to the hidden woods had not closed up. They would know shortly. The landmark to find the gate was coming up. Two large moss covered boulders with a space between them was what he was looking for.

He glanced behind him, worried that Fallon’s puppet had gained too much, and they would be close enough to follow them through the door. If that happened, he and Melenthia would be trapped with them inside, and it would be the end for them both.

They were close, the wraith determined to catch up, riding his horse practically to death. He could see the horse’s chest heaving, foam at the mouth, his hooves digging into the mud like an axe. The wraith’s red eyes flashed deeper, and Alekzand’r could now see his hand holding on to the reins of his exhausted steed. It was not a human hand, but blackened and scaly, like burnt snake skin. He had seen pictures of wraiths in historical lore books, and he knew what they looked like under their capes. It frightened him to think about and hoped Melenthia would not look back and see it too. They could shape shift into human form, using whatever language they needed to fool the enemy, but when it was on a blood mission, its real form appeared. He got another chill and kicked his horse into submission.