The Strangling

"Oh, no. When I began to really understand what this was about, and you,” she smiled, “I felt strangely as if I had come home. Tonight, this felt right, more right than anything I've ever known."

He smiled, pleased that she had accepted it so readily. “There was no small amount of destiny in this, to be sure."

The way she looked at him then tugged at something deep inside, something that arrested every part of his being: mind, body, heart and soul.

"I was destined to be your woman, Bron."

Oh, how he ached with pride, to hear her say that aloud. “You are destined to be more than that, although to keep you thus would please me greatly,” he teased.

She gave him a gently quizzical glance. “You think you might desire to lay with me, every night?"

The rich female allure that gleamed in her eyes at that moment made him harden with need to show her, to prove it to her. “I would, if you would have me keep you there."

He saw the answer to his subtle question in her eyes. When she nodded, smiling, his heart beat hard in his chest, his emotions soaring. He laughed aloud, joyously. “Maerose, you would truly stay with me, if we were to come through this?"

Her eyes twinkled with pleasure. “If you were to ask me again when we are done, I would be happy to consider it."

He was so far from sure that they would come through the task ahead, but knowing that she meant those words and harbored that wish to join with him, made him fill to overflowing with emotion. He gave a hoarse laugh, and pulled her closer into his arms, his hands running over her luscious body, possessively. “You surely know how to put wings beneath a man's feet, Maerose. I warrant we'll be at The Strangeling before you know it."

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CHAPTER NINE

If only he hadn't been jesting about the speed of their journey, Maerose thought, as they began to wend their way through the large outcrop of stark trees that marked the beginning of the forest known as The Strangeling. They had already walked from dawn until past midday, and they were only just reaching the start of the harder part of the journey.

"Can we not travel as we did before,” she asked with a forced smile, as they walked.

"We need to hold back our reserves as much as we can, for when we need them, later.” He gave her a quick squeeze around her shoulders.

She returned his affection but glanced at the dagger he wore at his waist, dubiously. She'd been surprised when she saw him sharpening it, before they left his retreat. It was a finely crafted weapon, one that would have caught her father's admiration and interest in a flash. Its heavy, silver handle was intricately carved with mystical insignia. The blade was fearful, echoing the curve of a scythe; its jagged tip leaving her in no doubt that it was no simple tool. He had slid it carefully into its black leather sheath and secured it at his belt. What he had taught her of the elder way led her to believe they eschewed such methods in favor of the higher, more spiritual practice of power. Why then did he need it? She did not ask, assuming it was so that all eventualities were covered, reluctant to hear it voiced.

As they made their way, it made her brood on the uncertainties that lay ahead, nonetheless. Being with Bron made the prospect easier, of course. He strode by her side, often taking her hand to lead her, turning to smile and urge her on. His aura of strength and calm was constant, but inside she sensed he was dealing with his own reservations about what lay ahead. He'd told her how dangerous it would be and she knew he felt responsibility for her. He had promised her safety. He was a man of honor. But how could he know? How could he be sure that he could protect her? That cynical voice in her head pushed doubt forward and each step grew harder to take.

"Just beyond these trees,” he gestured with his staff, “the dark place begins."

She nodded, squeezing his hand, reassuring him she was ready. They were approaching the land of the cursed hordes. “Is it far, to the center?"

"Almost the same distance that we have already covered, and when dusk falls it will hamper our progress. There will be a full moon, some of which might filter through when we need it most, and we will be able to find the way."

Some of it would filter through. What did that mean?

"The sky is like no other,” he added, when he saw her frown.

She nodded, hating the way that sounded, and they fell silent as the trees began to thin out. Her first glimpse of the place she had thought fabled made her innards clench. The Strangeling. It was as if dusk had arrived early, for the sky overhead hung in a gloomy canvas of indigo. It was heavy and low, makin

g her feel as if it was too close. Too leaden. The eerie light had a deathlike quality to it; the sun was overhead, but could not be seen breaking through the overhead canopy of indigo at any point, as if trapped behind the pall. Everything was still—no breeze stirred, no sound echoed.

The last of the green trees and grassy knolls of the more familiar landscape was soon left behind. The earth under their boots turned gray, like cold ashes in the hearth. What trees still stood had gnarled trunks and branches. No leaves. Their wood was dry and barren, as if the sun had not shone there for many years. Just as it had been in her dreams—she recognized it and in doing so, it sent a cold shiver down her spine.

"It is the place,” she whispered, in awe. “The place I saw in my dreams."

He nodded. “I thought so."

Her mother's words echoed in her heart, and yet—was she really part of this, a descendent of this land, this deathlike place? “It's as if winter has already been here, for a long time.” She pulled the cloak he had given her closer around her shoulders.

Bron nodded. “The place is always immersed in a dying time, no matter when you come here. It is not affected by season or weather."

She noticed that he spoke quietly, as if not to disturb someone, or something. And there was definitely no life—no birds, and no animals. What was it that he didn't wish to disturb? The underworld? Would alerting them to their presence be wrong?