***
The forest was pitch dark by the time I'd finished the small jog from the edge of Bellview's eastern perimeter. I stood there in the middle of the dirt path for a moment, hands resting lightly on the dark leather belt that rode low on my hips, and considered the best way to go. The path on which I rested would certainly get me back to Grandview, to Claire, with a bare minimum of fuss.
No doubt it was the safest direct path to where I needed to go. But?if I took a shortcut through the woods I knew I could shave at least ten minutes off my time. If I flew, another five. I grinned recklessly and eyed the trees for a moment, looking for a good, thick, solid branch. There. That one. Less than thirty seconds was spent debating the wisdom of taking the shortcut before I lowered into a crouch and sprang for it.
With an ease bred from familiarity, I caught the sturdy branch I'd selected. Even though I couldn't remember quite that far back, not with clarity anyway, the odds were good that I had learned to fly almost before I'd learned to walk. Most woodland nymphs did. It was simply a more effective way to travel. It was not, however, always the safest mode of transportation. Not by a long shot. But I hardly gave the potential danger a second thought.
More often than not, danger and I were like two ships passing in the night. At least when I was flying. Other times didn't bear thinking about but here in the trees, well, I was in my element. At this height, birds and tree-climbing beasts were the only real threats, that and maybe Kahn's guards. Up here, the forest was pleasantly quiet without being foreboding or silent. Only the faint rustle of the wind as it murmured through waxy green leaves could be heard, a clear enough indication that no predators lurked about.
As for Kahn's guards, well, they were in short supply these days, I acknowledged with a tight feeling in my chest that was halfway between nerves and pride. Besides, as fast as I was flying, swinging from branch to branch in the zig-zag pattern that had become habit, the guards would only pose a threat if they were excellent marksmen, and I knew from experience most of them weren't.
Most of them were little more than petty thugs. Of course, that in no way meant they weren't dangerous. Nobody knew the truth of that statement better than I did.
My hand was a caramel-colored blur in the dark night as I loosely gripped an upcoming oak branch and used my body's own swift momentum to swing around a tree to my left. A quick, curving twist of the hips was all that kept me from slamming into the thick trunks of the trees that were flying past in a kaleidoscope of shadow.
Occasionally, a break in the thick canopy overhead would allow a shaft of moonlight to filter down through the trees. Narrow ribbons of starlight shimmered here and there and gave the woods a slightly silver tint that was more dramatic near the top. The light was beautiful but I wasn't worried; I didn't need it. My night vision was excellent and so was my sense of balance. All nymphs were born in possession of extraordinary senses and remarkable agility, but constant training and a fierce determination had strengthened my abilities into something a little harder and sharper.
I was nearing the end of the road-literally. The twisted, gnarled trunks of the Three Sisters Tree loomed ahead and I instinctively braced for dismount, catching the top branches of a solid-looking oak and tightening my hands around the rough bark instead of my normal catch-and-release motion. My body swayed for a moment before regaining equilibrium and I dropped nimbly to the lower branches, then finally to the hard, leaf-strewn ground.
I stared up at the impressive stature and breathed in the crisp night air around me. Legend has it that this section of woods was once ruled by three half-sisters. If the ancient stories could be believed, then all three were very beautiful, though I wasn't familiar enough with the legend to say exactly how their specifics of birth had played out.
If memory served, then one was a nymph, one was a warrior, and one? I paused, frowning, and regarded the twisted old tree thoughtfully. Well, I couldn't recall just what the third sister had been, although I was sure someone, sometime, had told me that part of the story.
All I remembered for sure was that the third sister was different, unusual, whatever she'd been. Unlike the rest of the trees here, no leaves grew on this one. Three trunks twined together like a knotted braid, but for all that, it didn't appear dead or fragile. I traced one finger along the massive trunk but quickly pulled my hand away. Nobody touched this tree. Ever. At least no one was supposed to. Something about it being bad luck. But the way I figured it, if one of the trio had been a nymph, then there was a good chance she was a distant ancestor and so she wouldn't mind, would she?
No, I reasoned, silently pressing my palm against the surface and feeling a warm, tingly sensation radiate through my palm to spread outward toward my wrist. She wouldn't mind. Wherever she was now. All of my senses kicked into high alert in the next moment. I heard the voice at the same instant I turned away from the tree.
"Thought I'd find you here."
"Claire." I grinned, reached into my pocket, and tossed her a smooth, flat stone. "Here."
She caught the rock easily with one hand. "Ooh. What's this?" she breathed a second later when she held it up to the moonlight for closer inspection.
I joined her on the path and leaned over her shoulder to point at the stone. "I found it today while I was on patrol and thought you'd like it for your collection."
Claire was a fanatic when it came to little odds and ends, especially rocks and seashells. She never seemed to get tired of showing off the large shell collection Mark had mounted into a glass display case, although when I'd asked her how she'd acquired the wide assortment of shells she had only blushed and given some vague non-answer about a lake.
"Aries, this is great. Seriously. Thank you."
I smiled back and watched as she clutched her hand tightly around the stone before carefully depositing it into a small, beaded bag she carried on her left arm. The bag looked fancy but I knew more often than not it was filled with sand and dirt.
Claire had been a botanist before coming to Terlain and it showed. In the months she had been among our land, she hadn't lost her passion for nature. If anything, her hunger for knowledge had reached epic proportion. And why not, I reflected, sparing a glance for the gold-veined leaves that swayed above our heads along the edge of the path. Terlain was beautiful, extraordinary. Even if it was less than safe right now?
My eyes narrowed ever so slightly on Claire's cutoff shorts and tank top. "Where's your knife?"
"Don't worry." Her lips curved briefly and she tapped a fingernail against the fur-lined boots that ended just below her knees and should have looked out of place with her shorts but didn't.
"Oh. Right." I shook my head. Like Claire would walk around at night unprotected.
"Hey, are you okay?" She glanced at me from beneath the honey-colored fringe of bangs that swept across her forehead. "Did something happen tonight? While you were on duty?"
"What? No. No, it was really quiet tonight." I pursed my lips and kicked at a pebble on the path. "I'm just?" I sighed. It wasn't that I couldn't talk to Claire. She wasn't just my best friend. She was also the closest thing I had to family. Sure, technically I had a family and of course I