True North [True North series book 1/3]

Darianth released his hold on my hair, dropping my body to the floor. I backed away from him again. Darianth stood there silently for a few moments, his shoulders heaving with each anger-soaked breath he took. Then he abruptly turned around and stormed out of the tent.

I watched the spot where he had stood for a while, before slowly turning around to face Thoridor again. He had his back turned to me, and was using a piece of cloth to wipe the blood off the side of his neck.

A quick glance at his neck showed me that he too, had healed. I wondered why he had passed me off as a healer before, when clearly something in the air here was making wounds heal in the blink of an eye without intervention.

“Clean that up,” Thoridor snarled at me, chucking the blood-soaked rag on top of the remnants of the crushed cup on the floor of the tent.

Too stunned to even protest, I dropped to my knees, and began cleaning up the mess.

As I was picking up the pieces, I thought through everything that had happened so far. It felt like a fever dream — like the ones I used to have as a child. Like the one I had had just the year before last, when I had accidentally switched up my mushrooms. It had felt so real — I had been thoroughly convinced it was reality.

I had dreamed of surreal surroundings, like the world I found myself in now. Except there had been no snow, no cold, no danger. There had been flora unlike any I had ever seen before — lush, colorful flowers, and fruitful trees. I had felt safe, and at peace.

I had actually been slightly disappointed when I had come down from my high and had found myself in my moss-covered cottage on the mountain side, with my brother coughing his lungs out upstairs.

Tophyn. A jab of pain shot through my heart. I needed to get back to him as fast as I could. Thoridor had mentioned a seer, who might know how to get me off his lands. Perhaps she would know where to find the next gateway too.

I snapped back to reality, putting the larger pieces of crushed stone onto the rag, before folding it and using it to wipe the smaller pieced off the sandy floor. I rose to my feet and held up the bundle of shards.

“What am I to do with these?” I asked, but Thoridor didn’t reply.

He had gotten back into his bed, and I could see his chest slowly rising and falling. I wondered if he was asleep. That would be foolish of him, letting down his guard like that.

This whole situation seemed like a bad idea. Than again, I had stabbed him in the neck, and he had been healed mere moments later — maybe he was immortal?

I sighed, and put the rag down on one of the chests. I looked around for a place to lie down, but found nothing that remotely resembled a bed. I pushed two of the chests together, and found a couple of sheepskins on the floor by Thoridor’s bed, which I used to make a make-shift bed on top of the chests.

I rested my head on a bunched-up piece of tent cloth I had found, and curled myself into a ball. I pulled my hands into my sleeves, grateful for the fur-lined leather I was clothed in. It didn’t take long until I dozed off into a restless slumber.

Sunrise didn’t come. Not before Thoridor jabbed my side to wake me, at least. It was still pitch-black outside when we exited the tent, Thoridor shoving my back every few steps to make sure I kept walking.

I heightened my senses, relying mostly on my hearing to detect subtle sounds that might indicate the presence of predators lurking in the dark. When we reached the tree line, Thoridor yipped like he had the day before, summoning the Nioph.

The trees rustled, and soon, the thumping of its six large paws drew nearer. The Nioph halted mere foot lengths away from us, towering over us ominously. It knelt down, bowing its head, and Thoridor mounted it effortlessly. Then he held out his hand to me.

I grabbed onto the supple leather of his glove, just barely able to wrap the tips of my fingers around his wide palm. Thoridor pulled me up and positioned me in front of him, between the Nioph’s first and second set of shoulder blades. Then, he yipped again, and the Nioph took off running.

I ducked down, grabbing onto fistfuls of its pelt as to not slide off its back as it dashed through the forest, nimbly navigating its way through the trees. I could feel Thoridor’s breath on my neck as he leaned over me, grabbing onto the Nioph’s fur himself. I thought of what Elysora would say if she could see me right now, my rear between a male’s legs, after spending the night alone with him.

We darted through the dark forest like that for a while, and then, suddenly, we reached a clearing. Without the trees blocking out most of the moonlight, it was easier to see my surroundings. It seemed we had reached another lake — except much, much bigger than the last one I had encountered. I couldn’t even see the other side, the dark, swirly water seemed infinite.

I looked up, and for the first time, I noticed there wasn’t just one, but three moons of varying sizes in the sky. I gasped and turned to look at Thoridor.

“What is this place?!” I asked, suddenly feeling infinitely far from home.

Thoridor didn’t reply as he slid off the Nioph’s back, before grabbing the back of my coat and pulling me down too.

He ushered me toward the shore, and when I couldn’t go any further without stepping into the lake, he pushed me again. I stumbled forward, bracing myself for the splashing of icy water — but it didn’t come.

The water where my foot had landed, had somehow retracted itself, creating an unnatural dent in the coastline.

“Keep walking,” Thoridor said lowly, shoving me forward again.