Sidetracked

By John H. Carroll

Book 4 of the Wyvern Series

War is an everyday fact of life for peasants in the Kingdom of Paruth. Ghosts of soldiers remember battles nobody won. Skeletons of abandoned houses mourn the echoes of families long gone. Smiles are few and far between on the faces of peasants. And none of their wise sayings make any sense.

Constant, dreary rain dampens Pelya’s spirits as she rides Honey through these forlorn lands. Her mission for the Cloudswept bank fell to a dead end in the dungeons under Riell Castle. Recovered papers may hold clues to the fate of the Rojuun named Rruum Tarrrii, but they’re written in an ancient language and only readable with the use of an enchanted monocle.

The influence of the Black Scale Guild is far greater than she ever imagined. Their leader, Tyeromaythan-Devourer of Gods, knows who Pelya is and wants her captured. The plots that banished her from Dralin and the Blue Wyverns are directly linked to the guild, as is her current mission.

Of greater worry to Pelya are her new friends Verna, Calren and an energetic wyvern by the name of Nervy. In the past, she has led friends to sorrow and death. Now, with a price on her head and her inclination to take on ever more dangerous missions, Pelya has every reason to believe she will bring these idealistic new adventurers to their deaths too.

Adventure is everything Calren had hoped and more. He had more treasure than he had ever dreamed of. They had plans to visit places he had only dreamed of. He traveled with the two most beautiful women in the world. However, neither show any interest in him. And no one had ever communicated how terrible killing someone felt.

Verna has begun to regret her excursion into human lands. Humans are cruel and violent. How they tolerate never-ending war is incomprehensible. If not for Calren and Pelya, she might despair of hope. Now she just needs to convince them to end all war and bring peace to the world. That shouldn’t be too hard.

Nervy wasn’t thrilled with his name. He adored Verna and her friends though. Traveling with them was far more interesting than flying around the forest and running away from dragons.

Clues lead the group to the lands of Lord Boagberll and his Huntmaster where the peasants have suffered worse than any other part of Paruth. They will find answers to the Black Scale Guild, the Cloudswept Bank and the Rojuun. They’ll discover even more questions. And maybe in the end, they’ll figure out how to do something about the war.

The Wyvern Series is a swords-and-sorcery series following the journeys of Pelya Jornin. After leaving Dralin, she travels the world searching out injustices and her purpose in life. Along the way, she makes many friends and even more enemies.

• Language: English
• Publisher: John H. Carroll
• Release date: Jul 1, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370207190

John H. Carroll

John H. Carroll was the youngest of seven children and was born in Atlanta, Georgia in 1970 where he was kept in a dresser drawer with the clean socks. Luckily, he wasn’t kept with the dirty socks or else he might have grown up to become slightly warped.As a child, John spent most of his time wandering through the Mojave Desert in an attempt to avoid people. He would stare at the sky, imagining what it would be like to explore different worlds. One of his favorite memories is watching his dad build the fuselage of Evel Kneivel’s skycycle in their garage. One of his least favorite moments was watching that skycycle fall into the Snake River. (Not his dad’s fault and he has documentation to prove it, so nyah)As a teenager, John spent most of his time driving wherever he could in an attempt to avoid people. He would stare at the road, imagining what it would be like to explore different worlds. He was the captain of the chess team, lettered in golf and band while in high school, and wasn’t beaten up anywhere near as much as one might imagine.As an adult, John spends most of his time staring at a computer screen in an attempt to avoid people. He stares at the monitor for hours, imagining what it would be like to explore different worlds. Occasionally, he looks around to see what’s happening on planet Earth. Quite frankly, it frightens him. He’s just going to do his best to write as many books as he can before aliens disintegrate humanity for being so irritating.Emo bunny minions surround John at most times. He is their imaginary friend and they look to him for guidance. At one point, they took over the world. No one noticed because they left everything exactly as it was. They gave the world back after a week because it was depressing.The Ryallon Series is his most popular endeavor into the field of writing. His Stories for Demented Children have lightened the hearts of many strange children and adults. He writes in the evenings and weekends whenever possible.

Book preview

Sidetracked

Wyvern Series, Book 4

Ryallon Chronicles, Book 7

John H. Carroll

Published by John H. Carroll at Smashwords

Copyright 2017 John H. Carroll

Cover Copyright 2017 John H. Carroll

Castle photo taken by Les Anderson via Unsplash.com

This book is dedicated to the universe for making life as difficult as possible in order to give me plenty of writing material

The Chronicles of Ryallon

In Reading Order

Dralin Series (Set in time before the Willden trilogy)

1. Dralin

2. Ebudae

3. Pelya

The Wyvern Series (Parallel to the Willden Trilogy, set in time after the Dralin Trilogy)

4. Wyvern

5. Liquid

6. Cloudswept

7. Sidetracked

Willden Trilogy (Written first)

8. Rojuun

9. Anilyia

10. Kethril

The Crazed Series (All previous series merge here)

11. Liselle

12. Bounty

13. To be announced (Coming 2019)

14. To be announced (Coming 2020)

15. To be announced (Coming 2020)

Stand-alone Ryallon Novella (Occurs before Cloudswept, book 3 of the Wyvern Series)

Rain Glade

Table of Contents

Map of Nulanea

Map of Paruth

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Epilogue

Author’s Note

Map of Nulanea

Map of Paruth

Chapter 1

Year 1393, Fifth Age

Being a few days after the events of Cloudswept

To Verna’s relief, civilization faded away beyond the desolate road that cut over hills and past the ruins of houses. Nearly a week had passed since leaving Riell. There was no sign of anyone chasing them for sneaking into the castle dungeons, rescuing a god named Feather and for killing Laen, an agent of the Black Scale Guild.

Rain, common in Paruth this time of year, had made travel difficult a few days out of the week, but mostly it had been sunny. Their plan was to travel north and west before crossing the border into Cralba and on to Grint. After that, they would go down along the coastal kingdoms to the west. It would be a grand adventure.

That night, they set up camp along the side of the road. Verna dismounted and rubbed her hind cheeks. I don’t think I like this method of travel. I’m used to relying on my feet or jumping on air currents. Riding a horse seems lazy.

An odd chill trickled from the ground up through her veins. With a shiver, she drew the cloak Pelya had bought her tighter around her shoulders. Underneath, she wore a blue dress with silver embroidery darkened by travel. A utility belt kept it snug in the waist instead of loose and flowing. She preferred her rainbow dresses most days, but they were faded and threadbare whereas this one was excellent for traveling.

Calren groaned and twisted. Yeah. I think my spine has shortened from riding so long. He unbuttoned his padded jacket, dyed the same color as Verna’s dress. Sturdy leggings matched. His soft, rune-covered shirt had been taken from Laen’s wardrobe. He arched his back in a massive stretch before grabbing his bow and quiver from his saddle.

Pelya hopped off Honey with the grace of someone who had ridden for years. Her long black hair bounced as she landed. You’ll get used to it. It’s much faster than walking. She pulled out a rope to string between a pair of trees. I’ll take care of the horses if you two gather wood and cook.

Verna stared at the sway of Pelya’s walk. Her form-fitting dress was foreign in every way. The sapphire blue material matched Pelya’s eyes. Silver runes shimmered too boldly for a country that frowned on magic. Black seams of silken lace lined the dress. The skirts had slits up the side all the way to her hips, one in front up to her knees, and a matching one in back. On each hip was an enchanted sword.

Calren led his horse, Nut, and the packhorse over to the rope. I’ll gather wood and water.

Verna broke her gaze away from the exotic warrior. No. You cook. I’ll gather the wood and water. She collected her waterskin and went for the others

Calren shrugged. If you like. He pulled pots out of the bag with the dishes. Why do you want to gather?

Because I want to visit the trees. Spending time in Riell Castle made me sick. Too much stone and no nature. The trees also told me about a small spring hidden in some rocks where the water is cool and pure. Verna skipped away on her bare feet. She refused to wear shoes.

The tiny spring would have been near impossible for anyone but a Druid to discover. It was sheltered on the side of a hill and blocked off by a sentinel of a tree. Verna scooped the cool water in her cupped hands and sipped with a purr of contentment.

Her reflection showed a pixie face with dark-blue, almost purple, eyes staring back at her. Trailing up her arms and legs were tattoos of brown vines and green leaves. Another tattoo of vines trailed along her left cheek and around her ear, which had multiple piercings. Rainbow dyes in her platinum hair had faded almost to nothingness. Her hair had almost reached her shoulders too. She needed to cut it back to its pixie length. She ruffled it and stuck her tongue out at her reflection.

A faint sound whispered through the air.

Verna jerked to her feet and looked around. Every hair on her skin stood straight up. There was no breeze to carry the sound. The trees were still. Aside from the ever-present insects, animal sounds were absent. That alone was unnatural.

There was very little underbrush in the woods. Verdant grass muffled the sound of her ever-bare feet. Branches drooped under the weight of heavy leaves that blotted out the evening sunlight. Moss-covered rocks hid bundles of mushrooms while scattered wildflowers bloomed lazily in the warm air, hoping to attract the last few humming insects of the day.

She tilted her head to listen, but the sound was gone. Verna took a step back to camp. She remembered she didn’t have water. Looking each direction for danger, she knelt down to fill the first waterskin.

A barely perceptible ringing tickled the back of her neck.

She jumped up with a spin.

Nothing had changed. No sight, no sound, no smell. She took a few steps away from the spring.

A muffled snap of a branch echoed in the distance. Verna jumped. She asked the trees who or what was in that direction.

They told her the woods were empty.

She gulped nervously and took a few more steps. Verna queried the trees again.

They told her there were no humans or animals in them.

A pain-tinted whisper reached Verna’s ears.

She asked the trees to help her understand.

They informed her that nothing, not even a squirrel, scampered in their branches. They told her they were lonely. They asked her to bring animals back.

They insisted.

They demanded.

Verna restrained an urge to cry out in fear. She whimpered and covered her ears. Never had trees exerted their will up on her in such a manner.

The tree by the spring loomed forward, its branches creaking as they moved in unnatural ways. It scolded her for not bringing animals back.

Verna screamed and ran.

More trees reached out for her.

She searched in desperation for an air current to take her away.

The air was still.

A tree grabbed her arm.

Verna screamed and jerked away from it. She dug a heel into the damp ground as she struggled. With a heave, she fell out of its grasp.

A root twined around her ankle.

Verna kicked out, barely evading its clutches. She lurched to her feet.

A branch lashed at her, cutting her cheek.

She cried out in pain. Verna hopped and danced away from the possessed trees as she panicked. She lost track of where she ran. Terror sapped strength from her muscles. The urge to escape was so overwhelming it didn’t occur to her to cast a spell.

Dirt flew as she pelted the ground as fast as she could. Branches reached for her. Leaves slashed her skin. Every direction she turned revealed an angry tree. The longer she ran, the closer the trees came to overwhelming her.

She jumped between a branch that swung down and a root that burst through grass. Landing jolted her. She stormed forward while glancing over her shoulder to make certain she had escaped their grasp.

The ground disappeared from beneath her feet. Verna’s stomach rose into her chest as she fell.

Ungh! Oof! A hard landing of jumbled arms and legs knocked the breath out of her. Her cloak entangled her as she struggled to get to her hands and knees.

Breath wouldn’t come. She struggled, but it felt as though her lungs and throat were locked. Spots danced before her vision.

Her lungs finally remembered their purpose. A wheezing breath came through just before she blacked out. She knelt there for moments, concentrating only on inhaling and exhaling.

The surroundings came into her awareness. She was on her elbows and knees at the bottom of a muddy ravine where a trickle of water made its way to whatever stream it would join. Rocks and loose earth littered the ground. In the distance, dim shouts and barely audible clashing steel sounded.

Ahead of her was a slope leading to higher ground. Behind was a moss-covered retaining wall she had fallen from. It was an ancient construct from a time long ago.

A tree, unable to reach her, thrashed in impotent rage above.

Verna screamed and scrambled toward the slope.

A soldier held out a hand to help her.

Verna reached for it, but jerked back at the last second when she realized the soldier was ethereal. Blood leaked from a gash in his chest and a sword had scraped the skin off the right side of his face.

She screamed again.

A wave of cold weakened her as the ghost of another soldier glided through her to take the offered hand. Both apparitions ran up the slope yelling battle cries that were barely more than whispers.

Verna fought off nausea to stand up. To her right and left, she saw more of the ethereal soldiers rushing up the slope. Behind her, trees shook their limbs at her from the ledge, demanding she bring the animals back.

Verna stumbled up the slope, desperate to get away from the trees. Soldiers passed her. Each time one came close, she weakened. Her breath puffed out in chilled mists.

Verna reached the top of the slope and lurched to the side in order to avoid charging soldiers. She collapsed, trying to regain her strength.

The army charged into a wide valley. To Verna’s horror, more ghostly soldiers charged from the other direction into a battle that must have been fought long ago.

The last rays of the sun disappeared from the sky. Verna reached for it as though a beacon of hope had fallen away.

From the center of the valley, a low burst of horrible energy thudded above the ground and spread outward. As it passed over the soldiers, they brightened. Their shouts became real.

Next to her, a soldier cried out in pain before collapsing with an arrow through his chest.

Verna scooted away on her behind. She stared in horrified fascination as the phantom sank into the ground.

The ground burst from where the apparition had disappeared, sending clods of moist dirt flying in every direction. Verna screamed and held her arm up to ward off the flying debris.

Out of the shallow grave came the decayed body of a soldier. A rotted arrow still protruded from his chest. Glimmers of magical energy popped around the zombie as it animated in a macabre mockery of life.

The zombie noticed Verna, much to her dismay. Its jaw fell open in a gaseous moan of violence. Gobs of flesh dropped from its moldy face. A maggot crawled out of its empty nose. The undead soldier clawed the rest of the way out of its grave, dragging its rusty sword with it.

Verna scrambled backward, sobbing. Terror coursing through her body was too much for her mind to process.

The zombie lurched forward and lifted its sword to strike her.

An arrow thudded into the side of its head, knocking it to the ground.

Verna cried out in gratitude as she recognized one of Calren’s arrows. She scrambled to her feet and looked back to the opposite side of the ravine.

Calren stood at the edge peering down the shaft of an arrow on his angled bow. He shot. The arrow flew at her.

Verna stared at the path of the arrow, wondering why he would want to kill her.

Her head spun as it whistled inches past her to thud into another zombie that had risen a few feet away.

She swung her head back to look at the trees behind Calren. They roared their anger at her, causing her to cringe in fear. Her voice was too weak to break past a whisper. Beware the trees, Calren . . .

The trees paid no attention to Calren. They wanted only her.

Another arrow whistled through the air.

Another zombie fell to the ground.

The first zombie lurched to its feet. Calren’s arrow weighed its head down so it tilted to the side. It came after Verna, dragging its sword behind.

Verna sobbed and looked for an escape. She had no idea which way to run.

Another zombie pulled itself over the edge of the ravine near Verna’s feet. It grabbed ahold of her ankle.

Verna screamed.

An arrow thunked into the back of its skull. The clawed hand spasmed open as the zombie fell back into the ravine.

A war cry different from any of the others rang through the valley.

Verna turned just in time to see Pelya launch herself through the air. She landed feet-first on the arrow pierced zombie. As she did, her swords slammed down into its shoulders and deep into its body. When it hit the ground, she somersaulted forward, yanking her swords out with a great heave that did just as much damage as the original strikes.

From there, she sprang to her feet and launched a spinning attack at the second zombie that tried to get up despite Calren’s arrow in its forehead. Her blades flashed through the air. The longer sword took off its head while the secondary slashed clean through the arm.

Pelya dashed to Verna and positioned herself with her back to the Druid. Her swords pointed at the ready in both directions. This is an odd place to find water and firewood, my lovely mystic.

Verna sobbed and wrapped her arms around Pelya’s waist from behind.

Ah, you have mistaken me for firewood, or am I water?

Verna sobbed a laugh. You are both. Can we go back to camp now, or better yet, an inn? I suddenly like inns very much.

Yes, we just need to find a safe route back across the ravine. Pelya whirled one of her swords as a new zombie burst from the ground. All across the battlefield, more zombies appeared. While I’m good in a battle, I try to avoid armies. Zombies don’t exactly fight fair either. They swarm their victims.

But the trees are across the ravine! Verna whined. She struggled against their psychic barrage.

Uh . . . isn’t that a good thing? Pelya tried to advance to attack the zombie, which had just spotted them. I’m going to need you to let go so I can fight properly.

Oh. Verna released Pelya’s waist. While the warrior darted forward to decapitate the zombie, Verna shouted. These trees are angry with me because I didn’t bring animals. They tried to chase me.

Pelya turned back even before the headless body hit the ground. Angry trees chased you because you didn’t bring them animals? She rested her primary sword over her shoulder and mentally dug around in her memory. No . . . No, I don’t think out of all the fantastic things I’ve heard in my life, that is one of them.

Verna laughed helplessly, only because she didn’t know what else to do.

Pelya double-checked to make certain no zombies were an immediate threat. Then she scanned the area for an escape route.

Calren moved his bow back and forth over the battlefield, waiting for a shot. Verna knew he wouldn’t waste an arrow on any target that wasn’t an immediate threat.

Thankfully, we’re on the edge of the battlefield, Pelya said

Verna turned her attention back to her.

There are only a few zombies here. If we were in the middle of the battlefield . . . she pointed deeper into the valley where countless zombies from both armies had risen to attack each other, then we would probably be dead. As it is, we can move away from it and try to find the ravine’s end.

I can’t go back through the woods. The trees are angry. Verna supposed it might sound funny to Pelya, but the concept was a nightmare Verna had never experienced. Trees had always been her friends.

Pelya inhaled deeply and nodded before letting the breath out in a gust of air. She waved a sword at Calren. Go back to the camp and see to the horses! I’m going to take Verna out of here the long way around!

Calren shouted back, I’m not leaving you!

Yes you are! We can’t leave the horses and valuables alone! Our camp isn’t that far off the road! Pelya suddenly ran toward another zombie that got too close. Its head flew through the air before splatting to the ground like a rotten melon. Pelya strolled back. I’ve got everything under control! We’ll get back as fast as we can!

Verna realized she actually felt safe in spite of the trees shrieking at her on one side and the cacophony of a zombie battlefield on the other.

Calren threw his free hand up in disgust. Don’t die!

We won’t!

He shook his head and jogged back to the camp. The trees left him alone. They only cared about Verna.

Pelya killed a zombie that walked up the slope from the ravine. Her ability to separate heads from bodies was quite astonishing. Verna realized they stayed down after losing their heads.

Let’s go. Pelya gestured with a sword.

They headed off along the ravine away from the slope.

Pelya decapitated eight more before they reached the edge of the battlefield. Verna might have been able to help, but she couldn’t focus enough. The anger of the trees followed her, creating a disruption in the energy of nature that would be harmful if she tried to draw on it.

With her secondary sword, Pelya pointed at a tree ahead of them. The glow of the moons bathed it in an eerie light. The sky had grown dark quickly as if to avoid the horrors that haunted the valley. Is that one angry? Also, when you say they chase you, is it going to pick up roots and run? I’m not certain where the vital parts of a tree are if I have to defend us from it.

Verna opened her mind to the tree and cringed. All of the trees around the battlefield are angry.

Right. Pelya stopped. About the chasing thing. That would be important to clear up now, don’t you think?

Verna shook her head. I don’t think they ran . . . I ran. They were everywhere, reaching for me.

So don’t get within their reach. What if I have to kill one?

No! Verna blushed in embarrassment at Pelya’s raised eyebrow. Even though they’re . . . tainted? . . . Please don’t kill them.

"Well, considering I don’t know how to kill one short of using an axe . . ."

If we don’t get too close, we’ll be safe. You can cut off any branches that reach out for us.

Pelya lifted Verna’s chin to the side with her gloved hand. The hilt of the secondary sword, still in her hand, was warm as it touched her skin. Did a zombie cut your cheek, or was it a branch? It should be stitched.

Verna shivered at her touch. Branches lashed out at me. For the first time, Verna sensed something odd about the secondary sword. That’s not natural.

Trees attacking you? Pelya gently removed her hand. There are a couple of types of carnivorous trees in the jungles of Mayncal from what I’ve read, but none around here.

No, I mean your sword. Verna leaned forward to look at it. That’s not iron.

True. Pelya sheathed it. So I say we keep going in this direction until we find a way up the ravine where there are fewer trees. We’ll stay as far away from the trees as possible. There’s a zombie not far away, but it’s headed away from the battlefield and hasn’t noticed us. I wonder if it was a deserter. Her gaze tracked the shambling creature.

I’m sorry. Verna ducked her head.

For what?

For putting my nose where it doesn’t belong. She indicated the sword.

Pelya exhaled slowly. The metal isn’t of this world. I can’t tell you more than that because . . . reasons. It’s more valuable than everything else I own combined.

Oh. Verna studied Pelya’s face, realizing the warrior had shown hard-given trust. Thank you for telling me.

You’re welcome. Now let’s try to find a way back to camp. That ravine is a lot longer than I would have hoped. It’s getting deeper the further we go.

I’d ask the trees, but they just yell at me now. Verna dug her toe into the dirt, miserable at losing her leafy friends.

Pelya squeezed her shoulder. Once we’re away from this magical anomaly, the trees will become normal and will speak to you again. Come on. Chin up.

You think so? Verna lifted her chin in hope.

Yes. Because if they don’t, I’m going to have to spank them.

Verna burst into laughter at the absurdity of Pelya spanking trees.

That’s more like it. Pelya led the way around the tree.

Verna continued laughing as she followed. The laughter had a wild, panicked tone to it.

For the next ten minutes, they avoided the few trees in the grassy valley. The ravine finally ended at a stream. When it rains heavily, water floods down the ravine and into this stream. Verna pointed at rock and wood debris around the area. The trees here are unhappy, but they don’t understand the anger of the other trees. The curse of the battlefield ends on the other side of the stream. Verna ran across it, splashing with each step. She felt tangible relief on the other side.

Once Pelya came across, she sheathed her primary sword. So, we’re safe as long as we’re on this side. Can you talk to the trees again?

Verna nodded. They’re sad, like I said. They’ll let me know where the angry trees are so we can avoid them.

Good. Let’s get back to camp then. Calren handles himself well, but if soldiers come by, the living kind, he’ll be in danger.

Agreed. I’m too shaky to run though. The trees and ghosts weakened me.

Of course. Pelya put a hand on her shoulder and guided her forward.

When Pelya released her shoulder, Verna took the hand in her own. Just for a little while. I feel safer. She wished Pelya didn’t wear gloves all the time so Verna could feel the warmth of her strong hand.

Pelya let her hold it. So tell me about these angry trees and how you ended up in the battlefield.

Verna started from when she heard the whisper at the pool.

***

Calren had the horses saddled and the camp cleaned up when they arrived. It was easy to track your steps from the odd way you ran, Verna. I found the waterskins by that little pool. I was thinking we should get away from here, just in case the zombies decide to come this way.

Verna wrapped him up in a big hug. Yes. Thank you for saving my life. Thank both of you.

Pelya mounted Honey. You’re welcome. We make a good team. I’m glad we joined up. She smiled.

Verna climbed into her saddle, unhappy about how sore it was going to make her. Even after you had to save me from a bunch of zombies?

Yeah! That was exciting. Pelya grinned wide. Zombies are already dead, so I’m not killing anyone. They’re also unnatural, so I’m doing something good when I slay them. She looked back in the direction of the battlefield. That place needs to be consecrated and the bodies cremated so they can rest. I’ll make a note of it on my map and leave the information at a church if we ever come across a decent one.

Hope sprang up in Verna’s chest. So we’re not going to just leave it like that? We can do something about it?

Priests can. That’s far beyond my abilities.

They reached the road and Calren rode up beside them. But you killed some of them when you cut off their heads, right? My arrows only slowed them down. I’m glad I’m making more. He patted the quivers on the side of Nut. The feather Feather gave me made their flights smoother and truer than ever before. Feather was the god they had saved from the dungeons under Riell Castle.

Cutting their heads off stops them for a night. Pelya kicked out of her stirrups and stretched her legs. The bodies have to be cremated and their graves consecrated for them to find peace and stop rising. At least with those types of zombies.

How do you know so much about them? Calren asked with genuine interest.

I’ve battled a few in Dralin. I’ve also read up on them, along with as many other types of supernatural creatures as I could find. I like to be prepared for just about every situation. She looked sharply at Verna. Your cut is still bleeding.

Verna wiped at the cut on her cheek, stretching it by accident. Ow! That hurts.

Pelya rolled her eyes. Calren, can you sew up a cut?

Well, yeah. That’s standard survival knowledge. Shouldn’t you do it though?

I could, but I’d probably do more damage than good with the needle. I’m horrible at sewing.

I’ll do it. There’s a kit in here.

I need to make a poultice for it first. Verna wasn’t willing to stop until they were far enough away from the angry trees. It can wait.

They looked at her dubiously, but relented.

Two hours later, they reached a miserable-looking village with a dilapidated two-story inn that might have been a fine place to stay a hundred years ago.

Pelya gave her swordbelt to Calren who put it on. Women weren’t allowed to wear swords in Paruth, so they had worked out a system where he carried them in town, but she could draw them if danger presented itself.

No one greeted them as they rode up to the front door. They continued around to stables in back, just as unwelcoming as the rest of the inn. All the stalls were empty.

Pelya dismounted and led Honey into a stall. We’ll stable the horses and take valuables inside. I seriously doubt anyone here is capable of causing us problems.

Verna nodded and guided her horse, Leafy, into one of the stalls. There was nothing to feed him though.

After the horses were secure, they entered the inn through the back door. Rather than go straight to get a room, Pelya had them sit at a table next to the fire.

A crone with sleepy eyes stood up from where she was speaking to two women, one older and one younger. She came to their table, followed by the younger. Greetings, travelers. I’m yer innkeeper, Annabelle. This is Bria. She stared at Pelya’s exotic dress and jewelry. Milady, will ya be needing food and rooms for the night? She curtsied and wiped her hands on her apron.

Yes. I need clean water and cloths to clean my mystic’s cut. It also needs to be stitched. We have four horses outside. Do you have feed?

Verna’s stomach turned at the thought of having stitches in her cheek. Healing animals was one thing, her own injuries were another. I need another bowl of water to mix a poultice as well. It will help reduce the swelling and the chances of a scar.

Oh yeah, that’s a nasty cut. Annabelle gripped Bria’s arm, Get those items right away. Once yer done with that, care for their horses. She waved over the woman who had been sitting with her. Gia, this lass needs stitching.

Gia got to her feet and bustled over. Oh my, yes. However did ya get that cut, dearie?

Tree branch. Verna shuddered at the memory of the trees attacking her. It felt like a betrayal to everything she had ever known. Tears started running down her face. A drop made its way into the cut. She put her hand up to it. Ow.

Here now, dearie. Tears in the clouds don’t shine in the sun. Gia yanked Calren out of his seat by his collar. She sat and began fussing over Verna. Oh, look at those shameful drawings on yer face. Marking yer body makes the butterflies angry at the dirt. Ya should know that.

Verna looked to Pelya, pleading with her expression for help.

Pelya nodded sagely. Butterflies, dirt, clouds and sun, Verna. You need to pay attention to these things.

The pleading expression transformed to a glare.

The girl brought the water and cloths and set them on the table. I mixed hot water in to make them warm.

Good girl. Gia dipped a cloth in one and began cleaning. So many tattoos and piercings on ya. Not proper, it isn’t.

Verna considered removing the air from Gia’s lungs so she would quit speaking. If you’re unable to provide care due to your beliefs, I’ll handle the stitching myself. She wished she could just heal the cut like she could with animals. It didn’t work the same though. Calren, will you please get my herbs out of my bag?

Gia clucked at her. I’ll do a fine job, lass. I have herbs at home to make a poultice I’m sure will work better.

Calren pulled Verna’s herbs out of her bags and brought them over. They had sorted through their things, both the items they came with and the ones they had acquired, with each other and knew where everything was. Along the way, the swords he wore banged against chairs. He still had a lot to learn about wearing them.

Verna pulled out the herbs she wanted and placed them in a small pestle she carried.

"Well, I suppose ya do have a good selection of herbs, Gia admitted begrudgingly. Even a few that don’t grow around here."

Verna knew which ones she was talking about because they only grew in the mountains near her. She had enough of two of them that she placed small amounts in leaves and pushed them next