She didn’t know where to turn, but then a guard directed her horse for her. “I’ll escort you away from here, Your Highness!” Following his lead, Clarysa spurred her horse into a gallop.
Within seconds, they became separated from the rest. Clarysa looked back, gasping as a one-armed villager gave chase. He gained on them unnaturally fast. One soaring leap and he landed on her guard’s horse. Man and monster exchanged a round of blows.
“Keep going!” the guard ordered, even as the villager bit off his ear.
The guard and villager crashed to the ground in a tangle of bloody limbs.
There’s nothing you can do here. Go! Clarysa whipped her head forward and rode on. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Soon the sounds of the skirmish faded entirely. Before long, only the rhythmic beat of Apple’s hooves trampling the ground remained. Her heart rate began to slow; her breathing began to stabilize. She gingerly pulled on the reins to slow the frightened beast. They both desperately needed to catch their second wind. Attempting to regain her calm as well as the horse’s, she cooed into its ear. She had control over her own behavior, at least.
There. Her overworked lungs ceased their lament.
Clarysa looked cautiously behind her. She hadn’t realized the contagion was so widespread. Those poor people. They’re nothing more than savage maniacs. The Aldebaran citizenry had to be warned. But which return path would be safest?
She contemplated turning back to help her brother and cousin, only to squash the idea. She had no weapons on her. But so many of her people were at risk. She frowned, feeling useless and stupid for running off. Yet she couldn’t stay here in the middle of nowhere and do nothing.
Apple pawed the ground, turning her head anxiously from side to side. Clarysa leaned forward, stroking her mane for comfort. “There, there,” she said in dulcet tones. “I’ll figure out something, don’t worry.”
Clarysa sighed, a long, slow sigh that seemed to go on for years. Others were depending upon her, and she wasn’t about to let them down. But what were her options? More importantly, whose aid could she enlist?
Stellan!
Perhaps it wasn’t too late. If she rode hard, as hard as her mare could muster, she might catch up with him. With a fierce cry, she swiftly changed direction, and spurred her steed west toward the cold, unrelenting darkness of the Snowflake Kingdom.
Chapter 9
At first, the roads Clarysa took were familiar, well worn. As a youth, she had explored these woods and fields many times in the company of Lionel and other relatives. Memories of gathering mushrooms and wild berries sprang to mind. On this side of Dungeon Forest, Eastender’s Road was landscaped and well maintained. Clarysa even passed a few startled travelers. They stared in surprise as she galloped past, shouting warnings.
As she traveled on, the road before her narrowed and took on a rougher form. Large craters appeared, threatening to devour them whole. On the horizon, the sun had gone to rest, replaced with a gloomy dusk. Trees pressed up against the road, crouched amid thick bushes and other wild, scraggly undergrowth.
While Clarysa stopped at a small stream so Apple could drink, owls hooted.
Back on the road, the forest’s nocturnal citizens began their routines. Unseen creatures skittered alongside the road. Night eyes followed her progress from the shadows. She scanned the darkened path before her, alert for obstacles. Regardless of the danger, she forged ahead.
At a crossroads she pulled tightly on the reins, urging Apple to stop. In the inky sea now surrounding her, she couldn’t quite remember which road jutted from Eastender’s toward Vandeborg. She only knew that one angled north…somewhere. Was this particular path the correct way or not?
The journey seemed to be taking longer than it should. The murky surroundings did little to inspire confidence, let alone a clear view. Without a torch, her horse could very well collide with something. But if she didn’t remember the correct route soon, she would have to consider turning back.
No, failure wasn’t an acceptable option. Her people were counting on her to press onward for help.
Oh, but wait! Clarysa noticed a wide opening in the forest wall. How had she not seen it before? She peered into the clearing. True, it didn’t appear to be much more than a path for errant pigs, but it was a path nonetheless. Squinting, she even spied something white on the ground farther in. It emitted a soft, luminous glow in the burgeoning moonlight. Was it snow? With renewed vigor, Clarysa guided Apple onto the trail.
Once through the narrow opening, the path seemed a straight shot. The horse galloped away. Snow crunched underfoot. The air felt markedly cooler, prompting Clarysa to pull up her hood.
Apple swerved suddenly to avoid a large tree. Heavens! Where had it come from? Clarysa flicked the reins. “No, silly, don’t slow down!”
But the mare had no choice. The path–if it still was one–became glutted with gnarled, blackened trunks. Branches swayed overhead as a chill wind teased her. Apple slowed to a trot, then merely a walk. Tentacle-like roots necessitated careful navigating. Clarysa groaned. This was taking forever. She eased her horse slightly right, as it seemed the path resumed in that direction.
They wandered for many long minutes. Slivers of moonlight poked through the canopy above and then night reared its stark head with a vengeance. The snow here lay thick and deep. Apple’s ears pricked up. Clarysa glanced around. It appeared they were not alone.
Chittering sounds rose from the darkness, first from one side, then the other. Clarysa yanked on the reins, forcing Apple to a stop. The mare snorted her protest. This most definitely did not seem like a proper place to stay, but Clarysa needed to find her bearings. She leaned forward to stroke Apple’s mane and ease some of its fear before continuing.
All at once, the surrounding forest
