The Ghost Road
The Ghost Road
Chapter 127:
She didn’t answer.
The wind shifted, carrying the faintest scent of rain and blood. Lucien’s voice broke the silence. “We move now.”
No one argued.
They simply gathered what little they had left and marched into the forest. All forty of them, armed and weary, stepped into the forest, leaving the ruins of the camp behind. No one looked back.
The trees grew sparse, as they traveled north. What began as forest slowly opened into wide, broken plains, rocky grounds and open sky. The moon hung low, pale and watchful, casting its light across the narrow trail that wound north.
Lucien walked ahead, Kael slightly behind him, and Aria between them, her boots crunching lightly over gravel. The torches lit the path, highlighting her fingers brushing the hilt of her blade, her eyes constantly scanning the surroundings.
“How much farther?” Kael finally asked.
Lucien’s tone was steady. “If we keep this pace, we will reach the pass by tomorrow night. But that's provided that the weather holds.”
Kael adjusted the strap of his pack. “Assuming the Goddess doesn’t strike us first.”
Lucien didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. He'd already calculated every risk. Aria watched him for a moment before looking away. Once, his silence had been something she feared. Now it was something she didn’t know how to read.
They crossed the last of the forest by dusk. The land opened into a stretch of frostbitten meadow, empty and pale under the moonlight.
Behind them, the wounded slowed, and the healer called softly, “We need to rest soon.”
Lucien stopped. “Not here,” he said. “The ground’s too open. We’ll push another mile.”
Kael gave him a look. “You always did prefer command over common sense.”
Lucien’s tone stayed even. “And yet it’s kept us alive.”
The tension between them had become a rhythm: quiet, sharp, and unending. Aria didn’t interfere this time. She knew it wouldn’t matter, anyway.
A rogue limped behind them, clutching her cloak tighter. Aria slowed her steps until she matched her pace. “Are you doing all right?”
The woman nodded, but her lips were pale. “I’m fine. Just cold.”
“Here.” Aria handed her a piece of dried cloth to wrap her hands. “It should help.”
She smiled faintly. “Thank you.” She glanced at Aria, “You always were too kind for this world.”
She didn’t respond. What would she say to that?
Besides, she didn’t feel kind. Just… tired.
The night stretched long.
Each step north felt heavier, the path turning into cracked stone and frozen mud. The wind howled through the plains, as if in warning. Aria tried not to listen.
Lucien moved with purpose, his torchlight cutting through the darkness. He hadn’t spoken to her since they left camp, but every now and then, she felt his gaze, brief, unreadable, like he was searching for something.
Kael noticed too. His hand brushed the hilt of his blade, an old reflex. “Is something the matter?” he asked quietly.
Lucien didn’t glance at him. “No,” he replied. “At least, I don't think so.”
Aria’s chest tightened. She didn’t ask what he meant.
As the terrain sloped upward, the trees returned, though gnarled and thin. Somewhere ahead, the faint sound of trickling water was heard.
By the time the moon reached its peak, they stopped by a half-frozen river to regroup. Lucien motioned for the group to spread out, to drink, to rest, just for a moment.
Kael crouched by the river, splashing water over his face. “We’re close,” he murmured. “Another half day through the pass, then the path bends north. That’s Moon-Blessed territory.”
Lucien looked up sharply. “You remember the route.”
Kael’s eyes flicked toward him. “I should. I lived there once.”
Lucien nodded, almost grudgingly. “Then you lead from here.”
Kael’s expression hardened. “You trust me with that?”
Lucien’s voice didn’t waver. “I trust that you don’t want to get us killed.”
Aria’s stomach twisted. “The Moon-Blessed won’t like seeing any of us,” she murmured. “Especially me.”
“They’ll tolerate me long enough to see me and listen to what I have to say. You…” He looked at her briefly. “They might forgive. Eventually.”
She said nothing. Forgiveness wasn’t what she expected. She hadn’t done anything wrong. Her only crime was choosing herself. What happened with Penelope though, was another matter.
Aria crouched beside a patch of frozen moss, her fingers tracing the frost. Her thoughts slipped backward, to the Moon-Blessed’s hidden halls carved into the cliffs, the silver-lit ceremonies, the way the wind whooshed through the carved archways, the scent of herbs and smoke. It had been the only place she’d ever been seen for what she was.
Her chest tightened.
Kael must have seen something in her expression because he said quietly, “You remember the way too, don’t you?”
She nodded. “I remember more than the way.”
He didn’t ask what that meant.
A few minutes later, Lucien approached quietly. “You’ve been awfully quiet.”
She didn’t look up. “I’m thinking of how this might end.”
His jaw tightened. “You think they’ll kill you.”
“I think they will.”
Lucien’s voice softened. “You forget, you’re also marked. They have to respect that.”
Aria’s laugh was short and bitter. “The mark didn’t save me from the assassins, I've been fighting left and right.”
Kael’s voice drifted from where he was checking the trail. “It will now. Or at least, I hope so.”
They moved again as daylight began to fade. The trail narrowed to a ridge barely wide enough for two to walk side by side. Far below, mist curled through the valley, swallowing the trees whole.
By dusk they reached a flat ledge. The air here felt different, heavy, charged.
Kael raised a hand. “Stop.”
Everyone froze.
He pointed ahead to a cluster of stones half-buried in snow. Symbols etched into their surfaces glowed faintly silver. “Their border,” he said quietly. “We cross that, and they’ll know we’re here.”
Lucien stepped beside him. “Then we cross.”
Aria’s pulse quickened. The mark on her back began to thrum, not painful, just tingling enough to itch. She swallowed. “I think…They already know,” she whispered.
Kael glanced at her. “The Rune?”
She nodded.
The healer behind them shifted nervously. “Maybe we should wait until morning.”
Lucien shook his head. “If they want us dead, daylight won’t change it.”
He started forward. Kael caught his arm. “This isn’t your territory, King. Let me go first.”
For a heartbeat they just stared at each other. Then Lucien stepped aside.
Kael crossed the border. Nothing happened. Then Aria followed, and the air shifted, thick with static. A sound like distant bells rang through the valley, faint but unmistakable.
Kael looked back at her, eyes narrowing. “They’re calling.”
“Calling who?” Lucien asked.
“Everyone,” Kael said simply.