“I can’t believe we are trusting that boy,” Abner remarked, ensuring his voice was loud enough for the others to hear, but no one replied. Making progress through the forest was taking all their concentration.

  What meagre light there was was dwindling quickly as they made their way through dense underbrush. The shrubs were unlike any Abner had seen before. They were devoid of leaves and possessed thick, thorny branches that clawed at any exposed flesh. It was as though the corruption had twisted them into barriers that made passage through them as miserable as possible. Stride was in the lead and meant to clear a path through them with his machete, but he was a slender boy, and the path he carved was difficult even for the women to pass through.

  The trees around them seemed bent and twisted by the corruption. Parts of their bark had flaked off like diseased skin, exposing sickly yellow wood that crawled with maggots beneath that looked like diseased flesh. The ground underfoot was thick with dead white leaves, and every step they took made a stomach turning squelching sound and released the sickly sweet stench of decay into the heavy atmosphere that hung like an oppressive cloud around them.

  Up ahead, Abner heard the rhythmic sound Stride’s machete made when it cut through the underbrush was slowing down and wondered if the boy’s strength was finally flagging. He was surprised he had managed such a steady pace for so long. Then, a chill went down Abner’s spine when he came to a sudden realisation. It would be all too easy for the boy to slip away and abandon them here. Abner looked over his shoulder and was stunned to discover that their path disappeared less than twenty feet away. Retracing their steps would be all but impossible.

  Before Abner could voice his concerns, he realised the sounds of chopping from up ahead had ceased, and his blood turned cold.

  “What…” Abner began and fell silent when he realised that they had emerged from the undergrowth and had turned onto a narrow dirt path that ran along a small stream.

  “Wait,” Gen croaked before bending over by the stream.

  Abner’s throat was parched, and he followed suit when he saw that Stride had stopped. He eyed the water and frowned before scooping some up with his hand. He immediately wished he hadn’t. The water was warm despite the cool air and felt… wrong… It was slimy yet smooth and stung his skin through his gauntlet. He bent his head to sniff it and almost wretched.

  “Don’t!” he managed to choke.

  “But we need to drink,” Brynn pointed out, while she looked at the water in her cupped hand with distaste.

  Abner turned to Stride and narrowed his eyes. “There is better water ahead, isn’t there?”

  The boy shrugged but didn’t say a word.

  “What makes you say that?” Gen asked.

  “Look at him,” Abner said, gratefully letting the water fall back into the stream. “His lips are as dry as ours, and he is carrying a huge empty water skin but isn’t filling it up here.”

  Brynn narrowed her eyes. “Poisoning us won’t help solve your town’s problems.”

  The boy smirked. “I didn’t do a thing. You tried to drink that filth on your own.”

  Before anyone could say another word, the boy spun on his heel and began following the path upstream. Abner stood and noticed Gen staring longingly at the water pooled in her cupped hand. He reached over and pulled her hand down so that the water fell back into the stream.

  “Be patient.”

  She glared at him for a moment before her expression softened. “I… I know…”

  “Come on, I’m sure we’ll find some drinkable water soon,” Brynn said as she gently pushed Gen to get her feet moving.

  Abner followed suit, and the heavyset woman came to an abrupt stop.

  “What?” Abner began and fell silent when he felt a cold blade against his chin. Brynn had somehow drawn it and slid it under his helmet before he could react.

  “Listen,” she hissed. “Touch her again, and you’re a dead man. Understand?”

  Abner nodded as best he could with a blade to his chin and breathed a sigh of relief when Brynn withdrew her knife.

  “There’s no need for that, Brynn,” Gen protested.

  “I’ve seen the way he looks at you,” Brynn replied.

  Abner’s eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”

  “We first noticed the corruption over there,” Stride said suddenly.

  The boy was pointing into the darkness on the other side of the stream. It was only about fifty yards to the opposite shore, but Abner didn’t fancy his prospect of wading through the foul waters.

  “How do we get across?” Gen asked.

  “Further upstream,” Stride replied. “Where this stream branches off the Erevine.”

  Gen paused thoughtfully. “That makes that side of the stream Elven lands, doesn’t it?”

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  Stride nodded. “So be quiet. I’d like to take you inside without them knowing, if possible.”

  Gen’s jaw dropped. “Can you?”

  The boy nodded. “It seems they’re distracted by the corruption as well, but we’re sure to be discovered if you lot keep yapping.”

  “Boy, has anyone told you that you lack manners?” Brynn hissed.

  “You can take that up with my father,” Stride snorted.

  They continued upstream in silence and noticed that the trees on the far bank seemed to grow healthier as they progressed, and soon, they began to emit a faint silver glow that bathed their surroundings in ethereal light.

  “What…” Abner whispered before he felt a slap upside the head.

  He whirled around to see Brynn glaring daggers at him with her finger placed against her lips. Abner nodded and continued to marvel at how stark the difference was across the stream. So, these were the lands Invara came from, Abner thought to himself. It made sense that they were protected by some form of enchantment. However, upon closer inspection, it was obvious that these trees were sickly as well, despite the glow. Their barks were mottled with disease, and their leaves were an unhealthy pale green. It seemed that whatever enchantment was upon them could not completely fight off the corruption afflicting these lands.

  Lost in thought, Abner didn’t realise the others had stopped until he walked into Brynn’s back. She elbowed him hard in the armoured torso and glared at him. Abner glanced at Stride, who was peering into the trees on the opposite bank. He then turned to Gen, who shook her head and shrugged. He watched Brynn and Stride look into the woods for what felt like an eternity, and at length, Stride turned to Gen.

  “So, what do you propose we do now?”

  Gen blinked and shook her head slowly before giving Brynn an inquisitive look.

  “There are sounds of fighting coming from the opposite bank,” the heavyset woman whispered.

  “I haven’t seen any signs of life in these woods,” Gen remarked, and turned to Stride. “What could be fighting over there?”

  The boy shrugged his bony shoulders. “We saw signs of beasts within the woods, but we steered well away from them.”

  “Any signs the beasts were fighting one another?” Brynn ventured.

  The boy shrugged again.

  “It could be the elves fighting one of them,” Gen offered.

  “Then I say let them fight one another,” Stride spat.

  “You sound like you don’t care much for the elves,” Abner observed.

  Stride scowled. “Those arrogant long ears bar us from the richest part of the forest and leave us scrabbling for scraps. To make things worse, they killed the people we sent to plead for aid and hung their lifeless bodies from the tallest tower in Hargeisa in the night.”

  Abner blinked and glanced at Gen, who smiled sheepishly.

  “Well, these are their heartlands after all,” she began. “You can hardly blame them for being a little territorial after how much land they’ve ceded to our people over the centuries.”

  “Can’t I?” Stride asked testily.

  “The fact is, the rules were well established when the elves gave humans leave to settle these lands,” Brynn interjected.

  Abner raised a hand and cleared his throat. “I think we have more important things than to discuss politics.”

  “I agree,” Gen said. “Stride, could you please find us a crossing?”

  The boy paused before nodding. “I will show you where you can cross, but I am not leaving our side of the river.”

  “The elves won’t harm you if you are with me,” Gen promised, tapping her badge. “You could say we are cousins.”

  Abner winced when Stride’s eyes turned cold. At length, the boy smiled sweetly. “I will pass, thank you.”

  “Come on, it’s this way,” the boy said as he continued up the path.

  As they walked, the stream joined with others and grew wider. The sounds of fighting grew loud enough for Abner to hear through his helmet. There was the roar of a creature he didn’t recognise, the cracking of trees breaking, the occasional warning shout, though he couldn’t quite make out what was being said. He could tell that the mood was tense, though and quickened his pace until he was walking alongside Stride.

  The boy cast him a sideways glance and grunted. “You wouldn’t be so eager to get involved if you knew what they were like.”

  “I’m sure they’re awful,” Abner said, wanting to reach an accord with the boy. “But my boss wants to help. Are you sure you’ll be alright on your own?”

  The boy scowled. “I’ll be fine.”

  He looked up at Abner and broke into a mischievous grin. “Some knight you are, being bossed around by some woman who looks like she’s never dirtied her hands.”

  Abner shrugged. “She’s paying my wage.”

  Stride’s scowl deepened when he didn’t get the rise he was seeking, and Abner wondered if he should have feigned anger. The boy pointed ahead where the stream joined a broader, fast flowing river. The water there was an unhealthy shade of brown, but clear, and it looked more wholesome than it did downstream.

  “There, where the current is slightly faster,” Stride said. “The water is about knee deep there. You will be able to wade across, but take care that the current doesn’t sweep you off your feet. The footing is surprisingly treacherous in the middle.”

  “You sound like you have done this before,” Abner remarked.

  Stride smirked. “Keep that to yourself, won’t you?”

  Abner turned to the others only to find that they had already broken off towards the section of the river Stride had indicated. He then turned his attention to the boy.

  “What will you do?”

  “Me?” he replied before dipping his flask into the cleaner waters of the river. “I’m going to bring some water back for my mother.”

  Abner nodded. “Thank you for bringing us this far.”

  He paused before adding. “And I’m sorry about your father.”

  When the boy lowered his head and did not reply, Abner heaved a sigh in an attempt to dispel his guilt and started across the shallow section of the river. True to Stride’s word, the water level was ankle deep close to the shore and gradually grew deeper as they reached the middle of the river. Underfoot, the river bed changed from sand to loose, smooth rocks, and Abner found it difficult to find a stable footing. He soon discovered that he had caught up with the women. Brynn seemed to be having little difficulty with the river, but Gen was struggling. The heavy set woman had her hand around Gen’s arm in an effort to steady her as they made their way across.

  “Slow and steady,” he muttered as much for his own benefit as theirs.

  “We should hurry,” Gen urged and gasped.

  Gen slipped and lost her footing, dragging Brynn off her feet as she fell, and the current soon had the pair tumbling downstream. Abner cursed and shot out an arm. He caught Brynn by the hair, and the stocky woman shrieked.

  “Sorry,” Abner said through gritted teeth, but didn’t let go.

  Brynn flailed for a moment before grabbing Abner’s arm by the wrist. Only then did he release his grip on the woman’s hair. After a lot of cursing, the women regained their footing and were able to stand unassisted.

  “That was close,” Gen gasped. “On the bright side, I’m not thirsty anymore.”

  “Thanks for the help,” Abner said to Stride, who was staring at them blankly while he filled his skin.

  “Forget about him,” Brynn sniffed before blowing some water out of her nose. “Let’s get across.”

  By the time they reached the opposite shore, Stride had finished filling his skin and was on his feet. Abner attempted to wave, but the boy’s attention wasn’t on him. Abner turned to look where he was looking, and his eyes widened when what appeared to be liquid mud in the shape of an arm snapped the trunk of a tree that was at least six feet in diameter as though it were a dry twig.

  Abner unslung his hammer and charged past the others up the shore. “Get back across, I’ll try to hold it off for as long as I can!”