They stepped off the greenway and onto dead leaves and twigs. The moment they did, a violent series of cracks, whacks, and splintering rips erupted, as something huge bolted through the trees directly at them. Kile raised his staff. Farilane held the torch high and gritted her teeth. Then the tumult faded. The breathing was gone. The eyes were no longer visible, and the only sound came from the campfire and Farilane’s heart hammering in her ears.

Kile stared into the darkness. “What was that?”

“Tabor,” Farilane said, shrugging.

“Really?”

She glared at him. “It had red eyes, snapped logs, was twenty feet tall, and breathed like an old man chasing a young girl. What do you think it was?”

“We scared a twenty-foot, red-eyed tabor?”

Farilane started to laugh. “I guess. What is a tabor, anyway?”

Kile shrugged. “I don’t know, but we showed it who was boss of the forest. Won’t mess with us again.” He slapped his stick into the palm of his hand and winced.

“We are a regular group of brideeth eyn mer, aren’t we?”

Kile raised his brows. “Do you know what that means?”

“An elven term. Not positive, but I think it means a nasty person.”

He nodded. “Close enough.”

The two retreated to the circle of campfire light, where Sheldon held a stick of his own, a short, splintered one that had been gathered to stoke the fire.

“What were you going to do with that?” Kile asked.

The carpenter shrugged. “Wave it around like I knew how to use it.”

Kile and Farilane both nodded. “As good a plan as any.”

“Maybe we should take turns keeping watch?” Kile asked.

Farilane nodded but inwardly doubted such a thing would matter. This was supposed to be a hike to a monastery in the safe heart of the empire. Now she was lost in a forest of monsters with two men she barely knew.

Maybe this is the trip my family hoped for. Maybe this is my final mistake.

She lay down, pulled up her blanket, and listened to the pops of the fire.

At least I’m not lying in a bed, coughing up blood and wheezing my way into Phyre. No one may remember me, but I will enter the gates of light with my boots on.

Chapter 9: The Greenway Round

Chapter Nine
The Greenway Round

They woke to the pour of rain.

Not a nice rain, either, Farilane thought. This is what they mean by bitter rain.