the rear. It wasn't long before he heard Malig complaining again, but then Dray pulled something from his saddlebags. A long-necked bottle. Malig snatched it and popped the cork. “Damn!”
“I've been saving it. Good, eh?”
The two of them passed the bottle back and forth a few times before offering a swig to Aemon, but he declined with a shake of his head.
“Just have a nip, Aemon,” Dray said. “Maybe it will yank you out of the rotten fucking mood you've been in.”
“And if not,” Malig said, “at least it'll make you more interesting company.”
Dray said something Caim didn't catch, and both he and Malig guffawed with laughter. Then they started up a drinking song. While they sang, Aemon plucked the bottle from his brother's hand and took a long pull. Caim squinted ahead into the wind, but there was nothing to see except the stark flatness of the wastes. Then he spotted something far ahead in that distance, a slight darkening on the horizon. Not much to go on, but it was the only landmark in sight.
Caim nudged his steed into a canter that carried him up to the drinking Eregoths. Dray held out the nearly empty bottle to him. “Want the last bit?”
“Keep your voices down,” Caim said. “And your eyes open.”
Dray stared at him, but said nothing. They rode onward in silence, battered by the frigid wind and occasional flurries of snow. After Dray and Malig finished their liquid amusement, they both leaned forward in their saddles, eyes closed. After a candlemark of riding, Egil fell back to offer them a break. Everyone dismounted to give the animals a rest, but they kept walking at Caim's insistence.
When Malig complained, Caim said, “Moving will keep you warm. And we still have a ways to go before nightfall.”
Malig snorted. “Nightfall? In case you haven't noticed, it's always night in this frozen slice of hell.”
Caim felt the muscles in his arms contract. His fingers itched. Bracing himself as the frozen saddle met his thighs, Caim swung back up on his horse and cantered ahead. When he was a hundred yards ahead, he slowed his pace. He was edgy without knowing why. All he could think of was getting to the forest and finding the source of the sensation in his head. The snow lessened enough for him to see the horizon, where the darkness had resolved into a mass of trees. They appeared normal at first, except that they were the first trees he'd seen in the wastes. Yet, as he led his horse farther, small details emerged that gave him pause. The trees were gargantuan in size, even bigger than the mighty oaks of northern Eregoth. And then there was their hue, which was sable black with ash-gray leaves.
Caim pulled his steed back to a slow walk as they entered the forest. Thin, twisted branches entwined in a canopy over his head. Everything smelled bitter and dead. He waited for the others just inside the tree line. The pulling had grown more insistent, urging him forward.
“This might be the place,” he said when his crew caught up. “Keep your wits about you and your weapons close at hand.”
Aemon pulled on the hilt of his sword. It took him three hard yanks to loosen the frozen blade. Seeing this, the others looked to their weapons as well. Caim reached behind him, but his knives came free at a touch. He led the party deeper into the woods.
Trees blocked out all but narrow patches of the dark sky. There was no trail or path, so Caim made his own, leading his horse around the massive boles. Egil hiked beside him, navigating the woods with ease.
“You have any idea where we are?” Caim asked.
“Some, but no one I know has ever been this far north. If you get caught hunting up here, you're like to lose your hands, if not your head.”
“Great,” Malig said. “This place just gets more and more inviting. You thinking of building a little house up here, Caim?”
As Caim opened his mouth to make a terse reply, he saw something through the trees ahead. A plinth of stone rose from the snow fifty paces away. “There's something up ahead.”
The others squinted in the dark. “What is it?” Dray asked.
Caim shushed him and slid down from the saddle. He didn't sense danger, but it was all too quiet. The wind had dropped away as if the forest was holding its breath.
Caim tossed his reins to Aemon. “Follow close and stay quiet.”
Moving across the frozen snow, which crunched under his heels no matter how he tried to be quiet, Caim approached the plinth. It was taller than he first assumed, being about twice the height of a man. It was made of green-gray stone, worn and mottled with lichen. Looking through the trees to either side, Caim saw another, shorter plinth fifty paces to the east, and a pile of tumbled stones beyond that. Their positions lined up almost perfectly. He stepped back with a fresh perspective. These stones had once been part of a wall extending through the forest. Then he saw a building beyond the plinth, half-shrouded by the trees. It was difficult to make out, but he thought there were more structures beyond it. Caim pulled Egil aside.
“I don't know about any towns this far north,” the guide said. “Not except the dark lord's citadel.”
Caim peered through the trees. Was this his destination? He didn't see any inhabitants. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen any animals since entering the forest either, nor heard their cries. The woods were quieter than a graveyard.
He shook his head to clear away these distracting thoughts. He knew what had to be done. Caim glanced at Aemon and the others. “I'm going in. Count to fifty and then follow me.”
Caim moved ahead with careful steps, hand on the pommel of his seax knife, as he followed the pull's tether toward the buildings. He reached the outer corner of the first structure without trouble. The roof and two outer walls were collapsed, leaving half a shell made of the same stone as the plinths. Square windows gaped at him. The next nearest building was a score of paces away; three of its walls still stood, along with half of an interior partition. The snow between them was unbroken. Caim was about to cross the distance, but something held him back. He looked out at the expanse of whiteness, and then it hit him.
The shadows.
They were all around, clustered in the trees, in the windows of the shattered buildings. Their voices whispered in his ears. Caim exhaled a cloud of steam as he watched them. Whatever this place used to be, the shadows were very interested in it, and that didn't reassure him. But the others were catching up. He kept moving.
From the cover of the next building, Caim saw more broken constructions ahead, dozens of them ranging in size from modest homes to sprawling edifices that could have been palaces. The structures were lofty, and the existing stonework was elaborate with scrollwork and other decorative touches, unlike anything else he'd seen in the north. There was an open space farther down from his position with a few broken columns visible through the gloom. The ruins looked centuries old. What had happened here? Plague? War was the most likely answer, but none of the tribes they'd encountered were capable of this level of architecture. Had another people lived in these lands once? In the tales he'd been fed as a child, the Northlands were supposed to be the abode of goblins and spooks, but this city was real enough.
The others caught up to him, all of them holding a weapon. Even Egil had his hunting knife out.
“We're not stopping here for the night, are we?” Malig asked.
“Why?” Dray smiled. “You scared the spirits of the wood are going to get you, Mal?”
Malig scowled. “Go sod yourself. I'm not worried about no woods.”
Caim winced as their voices carried over the faint clack of the wind through the branches. Aemon spoke up. “I feel like there's something breathing down my neck.”
“What are you talking about?” Dray asked. “There hasn't been anyone living here in a long damned time.”
Aemon rolled his shoulders. “I don't know, but I feel it. Like we're being watched.”
Caim glanced at the nearest shadows as the same feeling itched at the nape of his neck. “We'll look around. But stay together and keep the horses saddled for now.”
“Can we make a light?” Dray asked. “I can't see shit.”
“Just one lantern, and be ready to shutter it if I give the word.”
Caim waited while Aemon dug out a lantern and struck a spark to the wick. He wanted to range ahead on his own, but there was something odd here. The ruins appeared empty, except for the shadows. Caim wished he knew
