**DAPHNE**
We left long before dawn. The way we were heading was in the opposite direction of my family’s farm, so I told myself that the moment we were settled, I would discuss the retrieval of my sisters with Dionie. Something told me that if anyone could be trusted to procure them, it was he.
As promised, Hayden provided a mare for my travels, leaving her loosely tied behind the Royal stables. Of course, I’ve never ridden before, so it wasn’t really much of a sacrifice that I chose to walk alongside my companions. A map to Hayden’s cottage was stuffed under her saddle when we found her. Although we wouldn’t be using it, I thought it best to keep it anyway, so I stashed it in the pocket of my cloak with the book. Currently the mare, Rose as I decided to call her, was only carrying the strongbox.
None of us has had even a wink of sleep and amidst all the excitement, none of us seems to need any.
Walking next to Rose with Petra on my left, and Dionie bringing up the rear, I feel unusually safe amongst the shrouded darkness of the evergreen trees. Aside from the howl of the wind and the harmonic crunch of our collective footfalls, the night carries a peculiar silence.
Petra and I each donned a pair of winter boots from the armoire, as well as two dresses each, beneath our cloaks. Not to mention we had stuffed the trundle full of nearly half the items available, leaving the wardrobe close to empty.
Dionie no longer wears the palace armor, and I admit, when I first spied him out of uniform, I was more than impressed. Prior to this, I had settled on the belief that he was probably not as big as he appeared. Given that I had seen one of the other guards take off the chest plates at dinner, resulting in said guard losing a quarter of his intimidating size, I just assumed the same could be applied to Dionie. Such was not the case.
Dionie emerged just as big, if not bigger, than he was with the armor on. In place of his former attire, he appeared to be wearing a strange garment made entirely from silver fabric. The item in question, seeming to melt into muscle and flesh.
Dionie was massive. Bigger than Ash, but not nearly as exquisitely cut. However, I didn’t doubt for a moment that Dionie was every bit as physically capable as his wayward prince.
The road we started out on seemed to narrow the farther north we went. Traveling as quietly as possible, we agreed to leave all conversation for after we transferred routes. Not wanting Hayden, or any men he might have follow us, to know we planned to alter our course at the fork in the river up ahead.
The sound of water was becoming more pronounced in the black of the trees, and I knew we were close. Growing excited, I began to step more quickly, my hand dipping into my pocket to clutch the book protectively.
“Stop,” Dionie hisses, snatching my elbow from behind. Glancing back at him, I nod. Bringing a finger to his lips, he silences Petra and I, then draws his sword so smoothly I resist the urge to clap. The brown of his irises melts away leaving a pair of glowing yellow citrine stones. They glimmer in the dark like the eyes of a feral beast. The blacks of his pupils narrow into slits, reminding me of the time Diana and I found a snake next to the river behind our house.
Oddly enough, I am not afraid.
Perhaps I am getting used to the strange happenings of late.
Either that, or I am losing my mind completely.
Leading us northeast of the trail, he deposits us behind a large fallen boulder and signals for us to stay put. Disappearing in the direction of the river, he becomes a whisper of wind and leaves. Petra’s eyes have also lost their umber tones. Instead, they shine blue in the darkness, emitting a strange iridescent glow that I refuse to comment on.
“Close your eyes,” is all I say, before doing so myself. If my gaze shines anything like hers does, we’ll be found in no time.
Strange how cutting off that sense of perception changes what I can hear and feel around me. The wind is whistling in one direction and howling in another. The leaves sound like running water on my left but like shivering locusts on my right.
The heavy footsteps of a couple of soldiers shakes the earth beneath my feet.
I clap a hand over my mouth to keep from crying out and wonder where the hell Dionie took off to. Petra’s soothing hand slides over my shoulder and she pulls my body into a crouch with hers. She begins to whisper to Rose in a soft, enchanting melody that has the mare falling completely still.
The clank of metal armor sounds, steady and rhythmic, as if they are not searching for anyone at all. They know exactly where they are going and don’t pause for even a single moment before heading northwest of the river. As if - they are following a course.
Or...
...a map.
Hayden.
I open my eyes after I have heard them pass. “Where’s Dionie?” I whisper as Petra and I stand.
Petra silences me with a look, then gestures that I should follow her. I do so without question, pulling Rose along by her mane, I stroke her to keep her calm. She seems to wander a bit ahead of me, almost like she knows where we are headed and cannot wait to arrive. Thank heavens for the boulder because Rose has a light brown coat and soft speckles of gold on her hide. Chosen by Hayden, no doubt, to be easily spotted in the dark of the forest.
Does Hayden truly despise his father that much?
Or is it me?
Does he honestly think I would try and take his crown?
Or does his hatred for me stem purely from my rejection of his attentions?
It is on the tip of my tongue to ask about Dionie, but I already know Petra wouldn’t leave him in danger, so I do not.
The trail does not exist here. Northeast of the fork, behind the fallen boulder, the trees grow darker and more menacing. But as I look around, I begin to notice the saturated green of the leaves and the warm brown of the bark that yields like soft velvet. Here, the colors are more vibrant. Branches seem to reach for me, and the ground is gentle beneath my feet. Roots stretch and climb about the soil, creating the illusion of a forest joining hands. As the wind becomes a whisper of song that brushes past my ears, I realize, dawn has come and the beast that is Hadimere Forest, is coming alive all around me. The sky is a fading purple giving way to a fire of red and when I look behind me, I gasp.
It is as if the trees raised up and covered my passage. Almost like they have consciously sheltered my every step. Hiding evidence of my journey from all who might try and follow. Even as I watch the woods in question, I can feel them welcome me.
It feels like they know me.
Like they are welcoming me home.