The Rider's Bane by Jacob Acebo

Author:Jacob Acebo [Acebo, Jacob]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Silent Stag
Published: 2023-05-15T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 22

The Friend

Night came smoothly. Argo rinsed his and Wander’s plentiful wounds with water from his waterskins and found them to be only minor scratches. Afterwards, as he had done on the previous nights, he stared into the flames and reflected on all things that needed reflection. He fell back and lay with his head resting on Wander, and he gazed at the narrow-yet-vast array of stars overhead that seemed to pass over the valley with careless ease. They made him feel small, and while his quest was without a doubt the crescendo of his life, he felt that it paled in comparison to the mysteries around him.

The still silence of the night brought forth the questions he’d been too occupied to ask before. How could we walk into a pond and stay completely dry? Where were we? Is this still the same world?

How did the magic work? Was there magic elsewhere?

What’s above the valley walls? Where does the valley begin and where does the forest end? Are we even in the forest? Or some part of it?

These thoughts made Argo feel even smaller and possibly even more meaningless. He closed his eyes and imagined himself floating down a river, with the current and rapids taking him for a ride as he calmly lay still. He knew not where the road led, but he knew he was on it.

The morning sunlight poured gracefully into the valley and slowly unveiled the colossal walls once again. Argo and Wander awoke next to a mountain of sticks, logs, and other wooden oddities that the crows had brought for them. In a smaller pile next to this were the supplies and knapsack they had flown away with.

Argo rolled awake and restoked the embers from the coals, which caught the small twigs easily enough to reheat some of the crow meat from the night before. He picked at it delicately and gave some to Wander, who immediately and indiscriminately had her fill and then sat and stared at Argo until he gave her more. He reluctantly did, and she grabbed a piece from his hands and carried it to a soft spot on the grass, then placed it between her paws and picked every scrap of meat from the bones. When she finished picking at it, she came back to sit and stare at Argo once again.

The crows cawed and went about their assumed usual routine. Despite the comfort, Wander remained hyperalert with each sudden movement from the murder. After they finished eating, Argo dug a small hole in the soil between a couple of big rocks and neatly piled the discarded remains of the crows inside. Then he pushed the loose dirt back over them and patted it down.

“No,” he told Wander, who was staring at the remains. “Leave it alone.” To make sure she didn’t dig it up, he moved one of the heavy rocks on top.

Silas flew down from high above the walls, his outspread figure gliding gracefully and casting a considerable

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