A Promise of Iron by Brandon McCoy (the reading list .txt) 📕

break here so I can get my bearings.” I reached my hand out to help her down. She jumped from the saddle into my arms, knocking me down to the forest floor.

“Good,” she said, plopping on top me. “My bottom was starting to get sore.”

She tasted of apple.

“So,” she said, breaking her lips from mine. “Was this your plan all along? Lose ourselves in the forest and forget about the world outside?”

I kissed her softly, then climbed to my feet. “I wish that were the case,” I said, placing my hands on my hips. “But, we might just be a little bit lost.” I looked up at the thick canopy. Light filtered in from above, but what direction it came from was anyone’s guess. “The sun will start setting in a few hours. That should give me a clue of where to go, but then that gives us the pleasure of trying to navigate out of here in the dark.”

She drew a circle in the dirt with a stick. “Can’t you smell the wind or read the moss or something?”

“This wood is too thick,” I said. “Moss grows all over, and all I smell is pine.” I kicked a loose stone and watched it bounce over a stone outcropping. “But,” I turned back to her, “you may be on to something about the wind.”

I stuck my finger in my mouth, then held it up in the air.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

“The wind always blows west north of the Burh,” I said. “The Marches act as a sort of funnel, pulling in the wind from the east.” I slapped at a low hanging branch. “That’s why Belen gets so much rain.

She got to her feet and dusted off the front of her dress. “So, you’ve found the hidden path back to the real world?”

I climbed back into the saddle. “Afraid so. No sleeping in the forest for you tonight.”

She took my hand as I pulled her up.

“Pity,” she grumbled. “I was starting to like it here.”

By the time we cleared the forest and found the Ellish again, the sun was hanging low in the eastern sky.

“Looks like you might get your wish after all,” I said. “We have at least another twenty miles to cover before we’re there.”

She squeezed my waist and pressed her head on my back. “I’m in no rush.”

Before we left I had prepared for the possibility that we would be camping under the stars tonight, packing a blanket of wool and a canvas cover in case of rain. We had provisions, enough for two days on the safe side, and I had a chip of flint to catch a fire. We could be comfortable camping underneath the stars, but I was hoping we would be closer to civilization before settling down for the night. Setting camp a few miles out from town was one thing; setting camp in the middle of nowhere, in the shadow of the mountains, was quite another.

The waters of the Ellish shown like a silvery beacon in the waning light, drawing us further south until we came upon a low rolling hill. Atop the hill, we found ourselves overlooking a valley of low grass ringed by tall pines and soft green hills. At the center of the valley stood a lone elder tree.

“This is as good a spot as any,” I said as we reached the elder tree. “Let’s stop here for the night.”

I helped her down, then removed Steven’s saddle. He pranced away, content to eat at the patches of tall grass that grew in clumps. I unpacked his saddlebags and ran a line from the tree to set the tent, then spread the thick woolen blanket on the grass beneath it and propped the saddlebags up against the tree.

I took stock of dinner. Cold bread and honey, peanuts, and a bit of dried meat wrapped in paper. I rummaged in my pack until I found the wine bottle I stashed away earlier. It was a meager feast, but it would serve the night.

Lira whistled at Steven while she gathered firewood. Thankfully there was plenty around the base of the old elder tree. She returned a few moments later with a bundle in her arms. She placed them a few feet away from the blanket while I gathered some deed leaves for kindling. Within a few strikes, I had a modest fire burning.

“It is beautiful here,” she remarked as she tore at a piece of dried meat. “I can understand why your people fought so hard to keep it.”

“It’s our home,” I said, taking a drink from the wine bottle.

She stretched out leisurely on the blanket as she leaned her head against the saddlebags. She finished chewing, then grabbed the bottle and brought it to her lips. She kicked off her boots and somehow managed to make it look graceful. I put my arm around her.

“You are very gentle,” she said as if commenting on the weather. “I would have never—” she stopped and smiled. “It’s a happy surprise.”

“Not the Ruk you expected?” I asked.

“Different,” she said, gazing into the flames. “Nothing like what they teach in Venticle.”

“You mean I’m not a savage barbarian that would rape you as soon as look at you?”

The sides of her face betrayed a smile.

“I knew it wasn’t true, even as young as I was,” she said. “We knew so little of your people, your ways. The things that make you who you are. By the time we began to see it, most of it was already gone.”

I questioned if we were speaking solely of the Cyllian Empire.

“We’re a complicated people, stubborn and unyielding,” I said as I slapped the tree trunk. “Kind of like this old tree. Its roots run deep—so do ours.”

“Too tall to kneel,” she mused. “They say you all must be broken first.”

“Pity the one who tries,” I replied.

“Pity the one who succeeds,” she corrected. “It will be a sad day when the blue flame dies in the world.”

She inched closer