Forest of Ruin by Kelley Armstrong

Author:Kelley Armstrong [Armstrong, Kelley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Teen & Young Adult, Literature & Fiction, Romance, Fantasy, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Horror, Paranormal & Fantasy, Coming of Age
Amazon: B011IMSQJ0
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2016-04-03T16:00:00+00:00

THIRTY

The next day, Moria said nothing about Gavril’s attempt to leave. By the time they’d finished talking last night, he’d been quite embarrassed about the whole thing and agreed that, yes, lingering grief over his mother had caused him to react foolishly to the new travel configuration.

They spent most of the day walking companionably, as quiet conversation turned to lighthearted storytelling and heated debates. Of course, they did not forget they weren’t merely strolling through the steppes. They were still hunting for Alvar’s camp. They’d decided that, having not seen a shadow stalker since the previous afternoon, they’d either encountered all who had escaped or they were headed in the wrong direction. Since the latter seemed more likely, they changed course. After a half-day’s walk they found an empty shadow stalker corpse. The man was not one of the bandits. Nor was he dressed as if he’d come from Edgewood or Fairview. He was perhaps in his fifth decade. His coloring suggested he was native to the steppes, and his bag contained items that had clearly come from the bandit’s wagon, meaning he’d happened upon it and helped himself to the abandoned goods. They found another corpse—a woman around the same age—also carrying a satchel of stolen items. She had not been turned into a shadow stalker, but rather set upon by the man, likely her husband.

Moria said a few words for the dead, primarily to ease Gavril’s grief. If she’d spoken the words of passing for his mother, but did so for no one else, then it would suggest she did not honestly believe them useful. Tyrus didn’t question it, only lowered his head and spoke a few pious words to the ancestors himself, bidding the spirits safe passage to the second world.

As they set out again, Daigo found blood on the ground. A trail of it. They followed it for quite a distance. Daigo could not track well, but his nose was still better than theirs and he did a decent job of it. They walked some ways before they heard moaning. They fanned out, trying to find an angle to see from. With the long grass and flat land, it wasn’t easy, and they all ended up within a few paces of the sound before Moria lifted a finger, motioning that she could see the source.

It was a young man, similar to the couple in both dress and appearance. Their son, she supposed. He lay in the grass, clutching his stomach and groaning. Daigo left Moria’s side and slunk forward, crouching to stay hidden in the long grass, but his black fur was still visible, and the young man let out a cry on seeing him. He did not, however, leap up, and that was what they needed to know. All three converged on the spot.

“I . . . I have nothing,” the young man said, his words coming with difficulty. “You may check. I have nothing of value.”

“Are your local bandits often dressed and armed as imperial warriors?” Tyrus asked.

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