The well of pale green hung around them like swirling mist, making their frenzied flight seem even faster. He had no idea how the Ilvani horses were holding to the twisting paths they shot along, maintaining a running pace as they did so. In the darkness and the shifting pool of light that passed within it, he had no way to even guess at the passage of time. But he became conscious at some point that the speed of the horses would have to flag eventually, the exhausted steeds needing to rest. The horses didn’t flag, though. The troop raced on. As on the Brandishear side of the Greatwood, the trails they traversed were a complex series of half-seen paths. An uncountable number of side trails split off from the main, Chriani knowing even from his minimal exploration of the forest that fully a third of those would mark false starts and dead ends. He couldn’t comprehend of the lifetime it would take to learn to navigate the wood as well as these Ilvani were doing it. He was riding with the carontir.
What do You think about Three Coins For Confession?
