a bit from year to year, but I didnât think this was the one Iâd taken on the way to the Hob.
Kith, though, didnât hesitate. Heâd obviously been riding up here lately, because he hadnât known the paths this well when Lord Moresh recruited him.
I frowned past Wandel at Kithâs back. He was tense, like a hound on the trail. He was always looking to one side of the trail or the other, and I could swear he was testing the air for scent now and then. Torch seemed to be infected with the same restless urgency as his rider. He paced forward with his head up, nostrils flared, prancing ever so slightly.
Well, the forest felt different to me, too. As if there were something watching us. But the thornbushes made spying difficult. If anyone was crashing through the thick brush, weâd have heard them. Maybe it was an aftereffect of the magicâs release that made me so unnerved. More likely it was watching Kith act like someone was watching us.
âAnything wrong, Kith?â I asked. âYouâre acting like a mouse in a foxâs den.â
âNothing,â he said. âBut I feelâ¦â He looked back at me. âIf I say this, people are going to think Iâm as weird as you.â
I batted my eyelashes at him. âIâm not weird, Iâm evilâthe One God declares it so. Just ask Poulâs mother.â
He rolled his eyes, then turned his head so he could watch where he was going. âI feel like the forest is alive.â
I thought about it a moment, and decided I felt the same way. Not that Iâd say so. People might think I was weird.
âMe, too,â admitted Wandel. âBut forests always bother me. I canât see if thereâs anyone else around. Too easy for someone to set up ambushes.â
âThereâs no one here,â replied Kith shortly. âIâd smell them if there were.â
Smell them? The trail narrowed, and I turned my attention to riding.
For the first time, I regretted not accepting Kithâs offer of a riding horse. Trails that work for roe deer arenât built for a seventeen-hand draft horseâlet alone for one with a rider on top. Finally, frustrated, I kicked my feet free from the stirrups and lay flat on his back, trusting him to follow the others without much fuss.
When Wandel pulled up suddenly, Duck got too close to the the Lass. She let fly with her heels, but Duck had gotten used to her tactics and pushed forward so she couldnât get room to put much force behind her kick. Infuriated, she spun on her hind legs, disregarding her rider and the dense flora, teeth flashing as she tried to bite poor Duck.
I grabbed the rolls on the front of the saddle and held on despite the branches that gripped and tore at me while Duck backed rapidly away from the charging she-demon.
Wandel leaned forward and sang softly to the mare. I didnât catch the words, but I happened to be sliding off in the right direction to get the full effect of the switch from enraged nightmare to childâs docile mount. The surprise sent me slithering all the way to the ground.
The Lass stood still, eyes half-closed in ecstasy as Wandel sang a lullaby to her; only the speed of her breathing remained of the wild-eyed beast of a moment ago. The rare sound of Kithâs laughter brought an answering grin to my face.
Wandel finished the chorus and patted his mareâs white neck.
âI know,â he said. âOddest thing Iâve ever seen, too. Most of the Lassâs antics are just flash and spitâI think she enjoys the attention.â
The mare swiveled an ear toward the harper and cocked her hip, resting on three legs as if she were dozingâbut the eye I could see was wickedly bright.
I found a place in the trail relatively clear of brush and remounted. âWhy did you stop in the first place?â
âThat,â said the harper, pointing through the trees.
âThe hob
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