Inside the enchanted caravan—a deceptively roomy space, with a library built into one wall and a chest full of chrono-frozen meals for the times Marcus' luck ran out with fishing—Scarlett scrubbed the fish smell off of me. I could see the world beyond the windows bobbing and bouncing on the rougher patches of road, but the wagon's interior showed no sign we were in motion, the books all stayed in their shelves and the younger children napped in peace. On the other side of the front window, Marcus and Garitt talked about what csses a new academy student should take while making sure the arcane horse-construct stayed on the proper path as the sun drooped toward the horizon. Out of the mountains, roads intersected and branched elsewhere to various kes, farms, fields, ndscapes I'd only ever seen illustrated in books before.
I drank in the sights, at least as much as I could until Scarlett csped me back to her neck. She suspended a mirror in mid-air, tapping a wand to her dress to alter its hue, finding better complementary colors to the light radiating from me. I was okay with being relegated to the role of jewelry once again, knowing I had a guaranteed return trip as long as I didn't cause any trouble. That felt so freeing, it let my worries wash away and gave me the peace of mind to enjoy the trip as it continued, noting all the pces I would like to revisit with Janine for a summer adventure.
Satisfied with her new accessory, Scarlett sauntered to the open front window, smiling like a princess at a royal ga. "Your mother's going to be so, so jealous of our new neckce. How does it look now?"
"Oh, yes, that thing is marvelous," Marcus said, so focused on the road leading into the woods ahead of us that he didn't seem to be paying attention to much else. "Truly crafted by a master artificer, I suspect. You should try it on ter, that would be a stunning sight to behold."
"What a brilliant idea. If only I'd thought of that." Having failed at her own fishing attempts, Scarlett sighed and crossed her arms. "I thought you said we were going to get past the Alcinder Woods today, Marcus. It's not long until sunset, we'd be foolish to navigate such a dangerous area at night. And by 'we', I mean you."
"It's fine! It'll be fine. The path through the woods doesn't change until sunrise, so there's no harm in being a little te to get through it. We can't stay on this side of the woods for camping anyway, not if we're going to arrive in time for morning evaluations." Marcus pointed toward the setting sun, where trees with blood-red leaves illuminated by the dying light, appearing to glow like burning embers. Far in the distance, massive structures peeked above the treetops, spires of metal and gss unlike any buildings I'd ever seen. "See there? We're right at the edge of the woods, Berindal's not far beyond. Garitt, do you have the offering?"
"Uh... yeah, right here dad." Garitt fumbled in his pocket for a pouch of coins as Marcus brought the wagon to a halt in front of a rge stone pilr nearly as tall as the nearby trees, with a grid and ancient symbols carved into its face—Auldilvan writing, I assumed, they looked simir to symbols on the spines of some of the books in the Denholms' shop. The two eldest men took glow-crystal nterns from above the bench where they sat and approached the the pilr.
A yawning Caleb cast his bnkets aside and stumbled to the front window, just barely able to see above the sill. "What're they doing?" he asked.
"Hm? Oh." Scarlett had been so absorbed in fiddling with me around her neck that she almost missed her son's question. "They're paying the toll, then we can get moving again. When they put in the coins in the well, the statue gives us a map."
As Garitt dropped coin after coin into a small pool of water at the base of the pilr, the grid sparked to life, producing an orange shimmer that seeped into the lines of the grid like flowing va. The strange liquid traced a jagged shape in the carvings, turning left and right at the intersections until a clear path formed from one end to the other. Marcus replicated the map in his notebook as Garitt added coin after coin.
"Why?"
"Because the woods are haunted, of course," Scarlett said in the same manner one might use to describe the weather. "Well, maybe they're haunted. Legend says the Crimson Archer drove out the toll collector, the Ghost of a Million Fears. But who knows? Maybe he didn't, and everything we dread is just ying in wait around every wrong turn."
Caleb gulped, his eyes growing so wide I thought they might escape the boundaries of his head. "Haun... H-haunted?"
"Yep. Let's hope your father doesn't get his map turned upside-down again." Scarlett gnced down to see her shivering son clinging to her waist. "Which part was too much? Was it the 'everything we dread' thing? Look, don't worry, your father captures wayward spirits all the time for his job, there's probably nothing in these woods he can't handle. Probably. We only have to do this once anyway, we'll go around the forest on our way home. Your father has promised peaceful nights in cozy inns, and I am going to make sure he follows through."
Perhaps I should have been more concerned about keeping my guard up for the safety of those who would deliver me home, but I was too busy marveling at the thought of the Crimson Archer having been in this very same pce. We were following the footsteps of a true hero! As we ventured into the heart of the woods, I could feel a strange, yet familiar, energy resonating from the trees around us. Remnants of the Ghost of a Million Fears? The power embedded into these woods felt twisted and malevolent, still dangerous despite being an echo of the spirit who once commanded it. Even the arcane horse seemed on edge as the caravan crept along the marked paths. The whole family searched for glowing stone markers at each intersection—Caleb became especially invested in triple-checking the map in his father's notebook.
Fortunately, my services were not required this time. After hours of tense travels, the wagon rolled into a clearing full of zy fireflies drifting under the stars, and everyone let out a collective sigh of relief. With the caravan parked for the night, Marcus and Garitt retrieved a couple of bags from within, tossing them to the ground. Each bag unfurled under their own power into what Marcus cimed were tents, but they looked more like small cottages to me, nearly as big as the wagon itself and fully furnished on the inside. The amenities may have been pleasant, but I struggled to call any of this camping.
At daybreak, we had our first good view of Berindal in the light. Its tightly-packed towers loomed rge above its outer wall, with illusions of dragons and griffins and a dozen other creatures swirling up to the tips of their spires before diving back down. Structures of marble and gold and steel and gss competed for attention, twisting and weaving and stretching skyward. Dozens of walkways and bridges interconnecting each building, with ivy in full bloom dangling from each winding path, their flowers a rainbow of luminescent colors. Rings of floating gardens full of trees formed into exotic shapes circled the perimeters of some of the cylindrical buildings, rising to connect with an outer ring of suspended roads before descending minutes ter, like clockwork. The mountains that fnked us somehow seemed small in comparison to the intimidating city.
The Langmeyers were slow to ready themselves for the final leg of the trip, often stopping to stare at the gargantuan city in awe, but we weren't going to find our destiny staring at the city from afar. Filled with equal parts etion and trepidation, we loaded back into the wagon and set off once more, ready to discover the destinies that awaited within Berindal's walls.