Page 35 of Lady Knight and the Thief

Plants dotted the forest floor with towering stalks and blossoms so large they were nearly eye level with Cypress, even from where she sat atop her horse. Moss-covered vines hung from the tallest branches, some even holding large snakes with iridescent scales, tongues tasting the air as Cypress and Torren passed under the branches.

“This forest is ever changing, Lass. We could be separated easily within these trees. Why don’t you hand me a length of rope? We’ll lash your horse to mine.”

“Why is it so easy to be separated here?”

“Do you not remember when I told you the Wylds shift? The path through the trees is never the same twice. It can change between footfalls. The will of the Wylds is not something I would test, even on my best day, Lass.”

Cypress had remembered those words, but she supposed she hadn’t truly appreciated the weight of his warning. Wordlessly, she handed him the end of a length of rope, winding the otherend around the pommel of her saddle. When she was finished, Cypress couldn’t resist adding a quick barb. “Happy?”

“Not nearly, Lass. Not nearly.”

Cypress rolled her eyes at his back, settling once more into the saddle.

Despite Torren’s warnings, Cypress didn’t feel fear between the ancient trees of the Wylds. If anything, she felt like she couldfeelthe path opening before them, a settling sense ofsafetycoming from the trees.

The wind whispered endlessly in her ears, her instincts urging her forward, to follow Torren deeper into the Wylds.

Cypress couldn’t stop looking at all the plants, the flowers. The uncheckedlifeblossoming amongst the trees. The Wylds felt alive in a way she hadn’t ever experienced.

As the light of day waned, then faded completely, a whole new sort of life bloomed amongst the trees.

Insects and creatures of all manner began to glow in the dark, illuminating the forest floor. Even some of the plants and flowers glowed, though the brightest of them were the small blue and yellow-capped mushrooms lining the path.

“If the Wylds are always shifting, how do you know where you are going?” Cypress asked, the sudden thought bursting free.

Torren smirked at her. “The trees tell me which way to go, Lass.”

Cypress scoffed. “Really? The trees.”

“Don't make fun, Lass. The Dryaads won’t appreciate it.”

She scrunched her brow. “Dryaads?”

Torren nodded. “Tree folk.”

Cypress raised her hands in acceptance. “Alright, fine. Sorry, Trees.”

Again, Torren nodded. “They appreciate a well-mannered guest.”

“Nowhe tells me.”

Torren huffed a quick laugh, then shook his head. “Come on, Lass. My people are just through this thicket,” he said, urging his horse forward in a trot.

They only made it a few more strides forward before people began emerging through the tall grass. A few people dropped down, hanging from tree branches high in the canopy. Even more emerged from behind enormous trunks, armed to the teeth.

13

Camp Willow

Cypressreachedforthehilt of her sword while Torren raised his hands and said, “Be at peace. It is Torren Lefay and a friend.”

“What was the late Queen Mother’s most prized possession?” One of the Fair Folk demanded, drawing their bowstring taught to the side of their face.

Cypress felt as if the point of the arrowhead was already speeding toward the space between her brows.

“A single moonbeam captured in an olivine crystal, set in a ring,” Torren answered easily.

Cypress couldn’t help but glance toward his hands raised on either side of his head to see if the ring he described was around any of his fingers.