skin—the feel of flying. Again, Tallin grinned and found himself wishing that their flight would go on forever. To touch the skies; to fly into the clouds with the birds, the feeling was absolutely liberating. Tallin raised his face to the setting sun.
At last, he felt happy.
As they approached the field, Duskeye circled down through a break in the trees. Fed by a spring of clear water, a tiny creek flowed in the center of the meadow. Tallin dismounted, knelt down, and scooped bubbling water into his cupped hands. Duskeye joined him, and they drank together.
Tallin spotted a tangled mass of lingberry bushes at the edge of the clearing. Ripe and filled with juice, the berries dangled down from the branches in thick clusters. If the hunt didn’t go well, they could at least pick berries. Even from a distance, he could see there were enough of them to fill a dozen baskets.
Duskeye looked around and sniffed the air, a puzzled expression developing on his face. “Odd. There’s a strange fragrance here that I can’t identify.”
Tallin pointed to a thicket of vivid wildflowers across the meadow. “It’s probably those purple blooms. They have a strange smell. Like cow dung.” He crinkled his nose. “They don’t smell very good.”
“No, it’s not that. I can’t place the smell, but I know it. I remember it, but from where?” Duskeye looked around sharply.
Tallin shrugged. “Come on, let’s get moving. I bet there’s plenty of game down that path.”
Duskeye opened his jaws to respond, but Tallin was already walking into the trees. Duskeye followed, his good eye moving warily from side to side. The light was waning quickly, and their eyes adjusted to the darkness.
They followed a narrow trail which led deeper into the forest. Tallin moved onto the path, and Duskeye crawled along behind him. Pointing at the path, Tallin said, “I recognize this track. It’s an ancient one. If you follow it long enough, it eventually leads to the southern ocean. I’ve hunted here before, many years ago, before I was even a rider. There are excellent hunting grounds here.”
It turned dark, and the moon rose in the sky, giving off a silver light. The surrounding forest pushed in on them from all sides, the branches brushing against their bodies. The underbrush grew across the path, forming tangles that made it difficult to walk.
Their progress slowed to a crawl, and Tallin pulled out his sword to slash away obstructing foliage. Overhead, a thick lattice of branches filtered the moonlight to a trickle, making it impossible to tell the time. More and more trees crowded the way, their roots rising up like giant earthworms on the trail.
Tallin squeezed through a pair of saplings with their trunks wrapped around each other.
“There’s not enough room for me to pass here,” Duskeye said, “ Perhaps we should go back.”
Tallin glanced back. “It’s too tight for you, but I can still squeeze through. I’ll continue for a while. Why don’t you fly back to the field and see if there are any animals walking through for a drink at that creek? Hopefully one of us will catch something.”
Duskeye hesitated for a moment, staring at his rider with narrowed eyes. “All right, I’ll go. But be careful out here. There’s an energy in this forest that’s making me uncomfortable.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay,” he replied. “I’ll contact you if I catch something.”
Duskeye nodded and flew upwards, breaking through the branches above. Moonlight poured onto the forest floor. As Duskeye flew away, he heard the not-so-distant sounds of thunder.
Tallin grasped his sword and moved on. A gray mist lifted up from the earth and darkened the forest even further. Tallin squinted, trying to see deeper into the trees, but it was impossible. He felt more like prey than hunter here, and if it wasn’t for the glow of his sword, he might have given up altogether.
Tallin heard another clap of thunder. Carrack! The