The summer shower has moved on, but the humidity clings to her skin. Clumps of dirt fall from the tapping of her boot, joining the mud on the road. She avoids the quizzical looks from other travellers as she counts the painful seconds. An eternity passes until a snapping sound echoes from the bushes beside her. Happy growls hum from the leaves while the group stands around the offending tree.

Eclipse sends her an ‘I told you so’ look, as his tail flicks from side to side. They escaped the kingdom proper with no issue but she can’t relax until she passes her message to King Avalon. She didn’t want any of this. Not the responsibility of knowing dangerous secrets. Not travelling to a hostile kingdom.

Not babysitting the child and her annoying dragon. And more than anything, she didn’t want to see Avalon. Too much depends on her reaching him and getting Sara to her aunt. As the anxiety fizzles in her limbs, Charcoal emerges with a twisted sapling in his mouth and prances to Sara’s side like a prized pony.

“Sara, we can’t dawdle like this,” she struggles to keep her tone even. “We don’t have time.”

But there’s never enough time. The ticking hands of the clock, the setting and rising sun, waits for no one. And she shouldn’t have to wait for the damn dragon to find a favorite stick to chew. She curses the gods for not making her a wind Mage. They create gales strong enough to fly her to Lollardum.

What if Sara had bonded with an adult dragon and not this yearling, they could travel on the creatures back. But no, the gods aren’t that gracious. Instead, Sara's short legs dictate their pace. Her legs are shorter than yours, she tells herself. She’s a child and tires easily. Despite her excuses, nothing helps her mood.

She reminds Sara not to wander into the road and to stay close to the trees. Then Charcoal meanders into the roadway gnawing on a branch. And she orders again, stay close. The path to Lollardum is along a busy trade route and Eclipse hates the exposure from the open road.

He’s on edge, his stance is alert, and he complains about insignificant inconveniences. Like how his fur is still damp from the morning rain, the birds chittering in the trees, and every traveller they pass. It’s his way of filling the space with words to distract from what they’re both thinking. Eventually grumbling about Charcoal becomes a bore; eliminating the last superfluous topic in his repertoire.

“What happens to us once this is over?” He asks as Sara hums the birdsongs ahead of them.

Why is all this happening at once? Why didn’t Kipling die during the Treason, or even after? Why did he live to fight another day? What cruelty did the Gods plan for her? They no doubt know her heart, she prayed enough in truth for them to understand. She wants nothing to do with Alexanderia. Despite Eclipse’s protests and reasoning she will never return to her old life. But here she is, dragging a crotchety panther and a child towards her worst nightmare.

“We walk away,” she finally answers. She’ll put it all behind her and move on; she did it once before, she’ll do it again.

“Can you abandon everything knowing Kipling lives?”

“Maybe.” Despite her heart insisting she run away, there’s a part of her that demands his blood. He’ll pay for the pain he caused. A tap on her leg breaks her thoughts and she notices his posture change, to a lower creeping stance. “What is it?”

“I smell sweat and boot polish.”

“Soldiers?”

“Keep going, we must find cover.” She surveys the empty dusty road before grabbing Sara’s hand and hurrying over the hill.

“Moira, let go. You’re squeezing too hard.”

“Oh sorry,” she loosens her grip but still pulls Sara along. The thumping of her heart pounds in her ears as she scans the trees. They can be anywhere, preening their weapons until they strike.

“Horses.” Eclipse mumbles, his head low to the ground.

“Why are you two acting funny?” A horse whinnies behind them as it pulls a wagon over the crest of the hill. The tawny horse, proud of his duty, prances towards them. While the sleepy sun-baked farmer sways with the wagon.

“Hey now,” he pulls on the reins, bringing the wagon to a halt, “you folks lost?”

“We’re going to Lollardum,” Sara announces.

“Don’t talk to strangers,” she whispers.

“That’s still a bit aways,” The horse sniffs at Charcoal who swings his tail playfully from side to side. “That’s an interesting dog you got there, missy.”

“His name is Charcoal; he likes making friends.”

“You a Mage?” he notices her staff. She hates the question, everyone who utters it has a different intention. And she never knows which way the conversation will sway.

“I am.”

“Well, I’ll be,” he smiles, “a Mage helped deliver our first. Olivia, I think her name was, do you know her?” She shakes her head, “A good woman. My Kelly was ready to pop, scared as she was— the first one always is. But Olivia was travelling by, heard Kelly’s panic cries, comes right in, and delivered JR as if she did it every day.” He chuckles, “we’re forever grateful to her.”

“She sounds like a wonderful woman,” she smiles, hiding the sigh of relief escaping her body.

“She refused any money but gave us this,” he pulls a charm with a turquoise gem on a worn leather rope from his pocket. “We take it wherever we go. I’m not going to Lollardum, but I’ll take you part way if you want to squeeze between the baskets. Always like to keep things square, you know?”

“Yay! Moira, can I sit upfront? Please?”

“Alright,” she helps her into the seat next to the farmer. “But take the beastie with you. I don’t trust him with the vegetables.”

“Hi, I’m Sara,” she offers her hand to him.

“Name’s Nathaniel, this is Kevin,” his leather like hand squeezed hers.

“This is Moira and he’s Eclipse,”

“Howdy, Mistress Mage,” he tips his hat to her.

“Thank you for the ride, anywhere you can take us is appreciated.”

She squeezes between baskets of cabbages and potatoes as the wagon kicks into motion. The aching in her calves is apparent now that she’s sitting, but she’s grateful for the rest. Even if it isn’t relaxing; she eyes the trees while Sara and Nathaniel chat at the front. Her heart pumps faster, forcing the excess energy into her fingertips.

They tap the staff handle; somewhere in the trees is someone who wants her dead. It’s only a matter of time before Margaret attempts something rash. The wagon turns around a bend in the road and she squeezes the staff. Cracking branches shatter the silence; soldiers on horseback spill from the forest into the road. Kevin whinnies, jerks forward, knocking her into the dirt.

“Stay with Sara!” she orders Eclipse, “I’ll distract them!”

The dirt at her feet vibrates, their hooves pounding in her chest, as the cavalry races towards her. Rock, great mountains, she summons their strength to defend her. The staff pulses as it slams downwards; cracking the earth open with a resounding thunder. It trembles as the fracture snakes across the surface, leaving a jagged gaping mouth in its wake.

A primeval magic thickens in her veins; like a dense syrup it pushes through her body. Unlike the other elements, earth (rock in particular), doesn’t like to be rushed. Every muscle hardens like a granite, constricting to wield the heavy weight. Sweat coats her palms, but she clamps the staff; pushing the opal towards the fissure.

The ground shakes, cracking as she forces slabs of rock to break free. Arrows from the archer whiz past her but the stone wall grows above their heads and blocks the road. The edge shifts, lifting and growing taller, blocking the panicked horse's path. The impromptu mountain range creates chaos on the other side; swallowing their shouts and swears into the rumbling boulders. Hooves race back and forth, trying to find a way around. The spell leaves her body tired but her whirling thoughts forces her feet into action. They’ll find her soon enough.

Following Nathaniel’s wagon tracks in the mud she reaches a crossroads. The crooked weathered sign points to an abandoned path leading to Bellavere. Nathaniel seems to have taken the route that loops back there. But Eclipse knows better. Where did he go? The road isn’t safe. They’ll hunt her once they find a way around. Then she spies it, at the furthest edge of the road, lay clumps of freshly dredged dirt.

She sighs with relief, a sign shared between them, and she obeys. Following into the brush she looks for another mark. A carefully placed slash digs into the paper like bark of the birch tree. Eclipse taught her orienteering one summer, she followed these exact markers for miles.

Now here she is, years later, still playing hide and seek with him. But she shakes the memory away, listening to the quiet for any sound of dog or horse. Gentle sun beams float between the overgrowth, catching the pastel wings of butterflies, creating a heavenly glow over the flowers.

She reaches the last marking, but its finality makes her nervous. Searching the moss for footprints; discovering only a lonely deer has crossed their route. She knows they’re here…somewhere. Searching the trees and hedges she finds a wiggling white spotted snake poking from under a bush. That’s an unusual snake, she mumbles as she inches closer. It slides across the grass. Nubby white spikes stick out from the black scales tickle the low hanging leaves.

“Not bad, but always remember where your tail is,” she smiles coaxing the dragon from his hiding place.

“Next time you take them,” Eclipse growls, “and I will cause the distraction.” He shakes himself free from a low bush followed by Sara and Charcoal tumbling out behind him.

A tumultuous thunder of snapping branches vibrates through the forest. As Sara climbs to her feet a grey rabbit darts between them running in the opposite direction. She doesn’t need a second opinion, the adrenaline pumping through her body tells her who is behind them.

Grabbing the child’s hand, they hurry to the denser parts of the forest. It isn’t the fading sounds of horses that signaled they went too far. It isn’t the growing darkness despite the sunny afternoon that made her nervous. It is the eerie creaking in a windless day that first draws her attention to the potential danger they may be in.

Eclipse coaxes them forward, although she senses, he isn’t confident in their direction either. She can’t be certain but they have walked the same path before. The tree with a twisted right-angle limb has moved from both the left and right side of their path. Every time she glances behind her its different. She doesn’t know if she’s going forward or back and Eclipse isn’t forthcoming with any new information.

Around a languid bend they find a bubbling river. Specks of sunshine poke through gaps in the thick leaves but the rest stop lacks the charm from earlier. Sara plops herself and Charcoal near the river’s edge and hungrily fills up her water bottle. Her own feet hurt, but she joins Eclipse’s side as he plays look out.

“Where are we?” She asks.

“I surmise we have entered Lunar Forest. Unfortunately, we have lost sight of the main road. If we let our guard down, we will fall to the same fate as the others who tried to surpass this area.”

“You mean all those travellers who enter this place and never exit? I think we have a larger problem than just wild trees. We need to keep going, I don’t know how long—”

“Stop right there!” A soldier shouts as he emerges from behind a row of trees.

“Dammit.”

His men, without their mounts, march from the trees banging their steel breastplates with their swords. Swarms of blackbirds flee from the thunderous clatter; engulfing the group in a cyclone of feathers and talons. They snag her hair, hit her staff and somewhere Sara screams.

Rough hands fling her on her back; a sharp pain tugs at her spine. Gasping for air she stares up at the blurry wings and leaves as an ache pulse at the base of her neck. Her arms tremble under her weight as she forces herself to stand.

“Don't move Mage!” barks a decorated soldier holding her at sword point. Her knees wobble but she’s upright; small victories, she mumbles. Through the birds she spies two soldiers corning Eclipse a few meters away. She can’t reach him with her own captors closing in.

“Drop the staff,” another persists, jabbing his sword’s hilt into her back. A chuckle escapes his lips as she cries out. They circle like wolves, with a hungry grin flashing in their eyes. Sara screams again. Between her captors she spies a burly soldier gripping the child’s wrists and yanking her off the ground. Her cries break Moira’s heart, its her fault for bringing the child to Bellavere. Sara cries and flails but the soldier laughs at her failing attempts to escape.

“Let them go!” This can’t continue, keeping eye contact with the leader she lays her staff at her feet. “There, I’ve done what you asked. Now let them go, they did nothing wrong!”

“I don't take orders from you.”

“What do you want with us?”

“Enough questions!” The flat of his sword stings as it slaps her across the face. He kicks her staff out of reach as two sets of hands yank her arms behind her back. So, this is how they want to play?

“I would run if I were you.”

“Shut up!” The sword’s pommel forces the air from her lungs as he jams it into her stomach. “Restrain her.” Their hands force her face first into the grass; an armoured knee pins her while a coarse rope binds her wrists. Its why she hates soldiers, with every inch given they always take a mile. Eclipse’s anger reaches her ears, but for some reason her captors are unaware of the screams from their comrades.

“I swear— if you hit me one more time—”

“Or what?” The sting from his slap makes her eyes water.

“I told you not to hit me again—”

“What can you do?”

“Me? Nothing. But he isn't happy.” A roar cracks the air as Eclipse tackles her captor. Blood flings in the air as he slashes the soldier's face and bites at his limbs. His uncontrolled blood lust propels him from one soldier to the next laying waste as their bodies twitch at the river’s edge.

“Moira!” Sara runs towards her with a soldier at her heels. Her tiny fingers grab the discarded staff and swings at the man’s head. Its impact makes a cracking sound; knocking him to the dirt. Screaming and crying Sara clubs the man’s body until he lays motionless in the grass.

“Sara! Stop, you got him. Now grab his sword and cut these ropes.”

“Like this?” she fumbles with the weapon placing it above the restraints.

“Now hold it there. Stop moving it, you’ll cut my hands off.”

“Sorry, it's heavy,” The wet ropes slither from her wrists.

“Good work,” she climbs to her feet and retrieves her staff. “Eclipse, are you alright?” He guards the only soldier capable of standing.

“What kind of ridiculous question is that?”

“Oh, my mistake for not assuming you are invincible.” A second soldier stands hunched over clutching his bleeding arm to his chest. Before he can fumble closer to her, she points the sword to his chest; he reluctantly obeys and sits beside his comrade.

“Moira, I—”

“Two soldiers are unaccounted for,” Eclipse interrupts, “and the twerp’s pet is missing.”

“Where is he?”

“That's what I’m trying to say, you never listen.” She points to a dark path behind them.

“Eclipse, can you find him.”

“No, you go find him.”