"You had some kind of arrangement with Ioran for the twenty-first of March, didn’t you?" Woody rode up closer to him, leading his horse slowly along the road. The army moved sluggishly, and it didn’t seem like these few thousand people would reach the Forest border by evening. "So what, you're not going to wait for him? I thought you'd stay in Asternia for these ten days."

  "No." Kairu wasn’t looking at him, only northward, over the heads of marching infantry and riders, toward the misty silhouette of mountains beyond the snowy fields. "I don’t want to stay in that empty city, it weighs on me. By the time I get to Tarumen-an-Elis, it’ll be just about time."

  "And me? Do I go with you?"

  "You—do what you want. It's your choice, really. But I feel I won’t get another chance to reforge my sword. You can come with me, but then you'll have to spend another month in the Forest, and they might not even let you into the Forge. But rest assured, I’ll catch up with the army on the approach to Mainor. You can't even imagine how fast I can go with the Hellsteed."

  "Then I’ll go with the army," Woody said after a long pause. "I hate waiting. Those days in Asternia felt like years to me."

  "As you wish," Kairu smirked. "See you in Mainor, Woody. And, if Aktos wills it, we’ll celebrate our victory. For now—just try to survive."

  "You too, Kairu. Are you heading out now?"

  "I’m used to speed, Woody... This slow column makes me miserable with its rhythm. Good luck... Hah!" He abruptly spurred the Hellsteed, and the horse, finally sensing the long-awaited freedom, burst forward off the road, galloping across the snow-covered plain, sending up white spray. Kairu leaned low over the animal’s warm neck.

  The road remained to his left; he rode, flying off hills, then climbing them again, gradually rising back toward the plateau where the Forest loomed dark. Around him were only fields and meadows, with the mountains on the horizon enclosing the Northern Province in a wide arc—the Olmaer Range, its jagged peaks snagging the clouds drifting past.

  In the evening, as he approached the Enchanted Forest, he spotted two unfamiliar centaurs walking near the first rows of trees. Both swiftly raised crossbows to their shoulders like gray shadows and rode closer when he stopped his horse and raised a hand, calling:

  "Hey! Where can I find Ioran?"

  At first, he thought they didn’t understand the common tongue, but one of them lowered the hood of his gray camouflage cloak and quietly said, coldly eyeing him:

  "What do you seek, human?"

  "My friend... a centaur, a border guard like you. Ioran. He promised to take me to the Dragon Forge by the Spring Equinox..."

  "Keep your proportions, human. You may be a friend to a centaur, but that doesn’t mean he’s your friend... And only Ioran can prove that himself, and he’s in the capital now, preparing for the pilgrimage."

  "Let me through," Kairu said hesitantly. "I know you don’t like humans, but I’m alone and nearly unarmed..."

  It seemed the centaur didn’t hear his last words. He rubbed his chin and slowly lowered his crossbow. The second one, still eyeing Kairu suspiciously, followed suit.

  "Don't like?" he echoed sharply. "No. Few of us do. But we all understand how different you are from us, and why you don’t follow the laws we created for ourselves."

  Kairu nodded, feeling his throat go dry. He rode slowly between them, still feeling their eyes on his back. The trail was familiar, winding through the slumbering black trees. Kairu shivered in anticipation of the warmth that ruled in the Forest.

  He rode calmly, not urging his horse to that dizzying speed he was capable of. He knew the meeting was still days away, and Ioran wouldn’t be expecting him so soon. He passed under the arch of trees and emerged again into a warm glade, lit by the light of evening stars. Silence reigned. The soft, steady trot made his eyelids heavy, and when the large full moon rolled into the center of the sky, Kairu reined in his horse, descended into a small hollow near the edge of the road, dismounted, and lay down in the grass, wrapping himself in his cloak. The fire rune kept him warm, and he trusted the Hellsteed to alert him of any unfriendly centaurs.

  The sun was already fairly high when Kairu awoke and rubbed his eyes. The white horse gazed at him reproachfully as he washed his face with water from a flask, rummaged through his travel bag, and chewed on flatbread he’d had the sense to bring from Asternia so as not to starve in the Forest. Finally, he mounted again and resumed his journey.

  That whole day he rode at a trot, snacking on the move and enjoying the beauty of the Enchanted Forest, which constantly changed and never ceased to amaze him. He thought he’d found a familiar path, even saw familiar tents among the trees, but there were no centaurs. It was as if they had vanished all at once, leaving behind empty homes and abandoned belongings, as if in a terrible rush.

  In the evening, as he reached a fork in the roads of the Enchanted Forest, torches flickered beyond the trees. Kairu saw a long, wide road surrounded by trees with silvery trunks. A white light surrounded the road, emanating from torches held by hundreds of centaurs slowly marching northward. All of them wore blacksmiths’ aprons over light armor, and the only woman among them was the queen, in snowy garments, walking arm in arm with the king. Kairu recognized them at once as he emerged from the dim woods onto the torch-lit road. Not far from the royal couple walked about a dozen soldiers in bright red cloaks, and among them was Ioran—not far at all, but the centaur didn’t seem to notice anything around him, his glowing eyes fixed on the royal procession.

  "Ioran!" Kairu called out, riding to the edge of the road.

  The centaurs didn’t stop, though many turned to look at him. Ioran didn’t notice the human at first, glancing back several times until Kairu rode closer, moving along the right flank of the procession.

  "I thought you were in Asternia," he said quietly, glancing back at his unit. "Where are you headed now?"

  "To the capital. I thought I’d find you there. Damn it, where are you all going?"

  "We’re setting out for the Dragon Forge early, in the last days of February, to prepare for the Day of Labors. Each Master must conceive what he plans to forge, prepare molds, begin metalworking, gather materials and decorations, if needed. I’m afraid you wouldn’t have found me in the capital, and it’s very lucky we crossed paths here. I take it you’ve completed your mission?"

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  "Of course." Kairu guided his horse at a walking pace alongside the column. "I assumed you’d be monitoring the borders and would know that a six-thousand-strong army left Asternia yesterday heading northwest. The governor plans to lead them to the right bank of the Dellevrine, to circle around the Enchanted Forest and hit the pirates from behind."

  "Six thousand..." Ioran repeated thoughtfully. "Too few. There are many more pirates, I saw them on that field myself... Of course, it’s not quite like your tale of Nalvin, but the odds of victory are slim. Very slim."

  "That’s why, right after the Day of Labors, we must return to the western borders of the Forest. I personally dream of taking part in that battle, I have a personal score to settle with the pirates," Kairu added, pulling out his broken sword. "Understand?"

  "The fire will not blaze before its time, the gods have so commanded," Ioran said. "So come. You’ll wait in the Forge now, if you're that impatient. At the fastest pace, the centaurs will reach Mainor from the mountains in a week. But if Telorand really is taking the roundabout route, we’ll make it to the battle. I see the irony in this, Kairu. A great and worthy warrior who cannot be easily defeated, unafraid to leave his city and enter an uneven battle with pirates, yet hesitant to ride directly through our Forest, fearing the centaurs—those who were once mankind’s first friends..."

  Ioran fell silent and galloped off to catch up with his regiment, from which he had noticeably lagged during their conversation. Kairu decided not to wedge himself into the neat formation but to follow alongside, not far from the royal entourage. In complete silence, under the bright but flickering light of the torches, he urged his horse forward, aiming for the distant, cherished goal somewhere in the north of the Enchanted Forest.

  The procession moved through the entire night. New centaurs joined it, silently falling into perfect alignment, as if each one knew their place in advance—and perhaps they did. The damp, dewy grass swayed slightly underfoot; they were surrounded by trees like columns in an ancient natural temple. Kairu was overwhelmed with drowsiness and barely resisted the urge to rest his head on the horse’s back and slip into oblivion… Gradually, the sky lightened, the stars and moon disappeared, giving way to a silvery pre-dawn mist. As if on command, the centaurs stopped in a wide glade where all the blacksmiths could settle, some under trees, others in the open. Campfires flared up, the scent of bread, meat, and some kind of herbs filled the air. Despite his hunger, Kairu could only manage to dismount, and lie down beneath the nearest tree. The next second, he was asleep.

  ***

  By morning, Kairu realized they had already left the Enchanted Forest.

  But the Enchanted Forest was with them, and within them. Snowdrifts lay around the glade, the sky was cloaked in gloomy mist, and the trees deep in the thicket were wrapped in snow. But where the centaurs had camped, the snow had melted, grass and flowers had bloomed—spring reigned in the encampment. Transparent smoke from the campfires wavered in the air. The centaurs spoke quietly among themselves. Kairu sat up and stretched; Ioran approached from behind, handed him a flask of water and bread with meat, and said:

  "Eat quickly. It's nearly noon, we must set out."

  Kairu ate hastily, and within half an hour, the centaurs extinguished the fires and moved on. Now they traveled through an ordinary, gray spring forest, covered in damp, partially melted snow. The procession headed north again, through snow-covered paths beneath trees whose frosted branches sparkled in the cold light. But after just a few days, the last of the frost passed, it grew warmer, the snowfall ceased, and the sun, through the milky veil of clouds, harshly scorched the slushy March snow. The frost no longer bit at their faces, it was still winter, but not a true one: a damp winter, clinging only to the mask of its former splendor. And spring, laughing, was waiting for its moment.

  The mountains to the north had drawn noticeably closer, while the travelers had shifted from the plateau into the misty lowlands. The troop of centaur blacksmiths now walked along winding, invisible trails heading east, and Kairu suspected they were moving along the very edge, never approaching the gates that led into the warmth of the true Forest, which was sheltered by a magical field.

  On March fourteenth, when the first snowdrops bloomed in the thawed patches and buds began to swell on the trees with sticky green leaves, the blacksmiths emerged from the forest onto vast, empty plains stretching between the Olmaer range and its southern spur. The mountains encircled this land in a broad semicircle. The threatening peaks loomed near, and the towering, snow-covered summits gleamed white in the clear March air, while the frozen slopes sparkled with a million diamond-like lights. Far to the east, Kairu saw a heather-covered heath where tall, sharp, bare stones seemed scattered at random.

  That day’s journey (or pilgrimage, as the centaurs called it) passed in solemn silence. The troop descended along a narrow road and crossed the plain. Withered grass from the previous year swayed around them, a bone-chilling wind blew, and the sky was covered in milky clouds. Gradually, the road began to climb. The mountains were now very close, they loomed on the right, behind, and ahead. Yet they did not rise as sheer rocky walls like in Petista, but as gentle, ridged slopes with sparse undergrowth and meadows. Eventually, they came upon a vast flat space where enormous gray stones entwined with ivy stood like columns. Weathered by wind and time, the stones were cracked, but strange symbols and carvings still remained on their yellowish surfaces.

  "This is Karonordil, the Ruined City of the centaurs," whispered Ioran, stepping into the necropolis not far from the royal couple and bowing to the ruins. Kairu, awestruck, bowed his head too. "They say a shrine once stood here… Now, even the ruins of the city are gone, only these columns remain. Within them is sealed the symbol of the centaur civilization’s immortality… at least that’s what the archaeologists say."

  They left the necropolis and continued across the fields, where the snow had nearly melted, heading east. They had to camp that night among the stones. Evidently, during the night the clouds had unleashed one last snowfall, for by morning small drifts again surrounded the camp, yet here, as if under a transparent sphere, warmth remained. The journey continued over open ground, trudging through snow. The path rose higher into the mountains, past the alpine meadows, and now wound through a barren, rocky zone, where a mountain trail twisted among the stones. The centaurs marched calmly, but Kairu had to dismount to make it easier for his Hellsteed… It was already evening, yet the royal couple showed no intention of seeking a place to rest—apparently, the destination was near. Suddenly, the road turned, passed under a stone arch, on which, like in Karonordil, unfamiliar glyphs were carved, and the procession emerged onto a wide stone platform surrounded by towering cliffs.

  Kairu involuntarily gasped.

  In the center of the platform stood a cylindrical tower of white marble, encircled by a staircase. At its base stood broad tables, and inside the tower was hollow, with the top platform supported by columns. From the mountains, a small waterfall cascaded down, its streams flowing into a huge basin. In the opposite cliff face was a cave, at the entrance of which stood two lamps burning with white flame. Giant statues stood at the edges of the platform, portraying centaurs with spears in hand and falcons on their shoulders. There were five statues in total, all facing the tower as if awaiting an attack from beneath the earth.

  The tower was about ten yards tall, covered in runes and carvings. Ioran looked at it with calm familiarity, but Kairu gazed in reverence, for it was the first time he had seen such a majestic structure. Despite its relatively modest size, the Forge seemed monumental to him.

  "Yes, this is it," Ioran guessed his thoughts. "If the legend doesn’t lie, this tower was carved from a single stone by Vaimos himself, who descended to earth. In the cave lie metals and treasures that we use to craft our items, but remember, no one may enter or take anything without the king’s permission. There also lie our tools—hammers, molds, tongs, aprons... You’ll see for yourself in the morning. Work begins tomorrow. For now, get some rest and sleep. Trust me."

  The centaurs circled the Forge, bowing to the tower, and approached the cave. Kairu lingered, stepping closer to the tower. No one stopped him, and he cautiously peeked between the columns. What he saw took his breath away. A wide black shaft yawned where the floor should have been, its walls carved with bas-reliefs. The bottom was invisible; the vertical walls plunged deep into the earth’s darkness.

  "Come on!" Ioran snapped him back to reality.

  The royal couple entered first, followed by their guard, then Ioran, and then Kairu. The torchlight revealed two long corridors, something glinted at the end of one. But the centaurs took the other and soon reached a spacious underground hall, large enough to accommodate all the gathered blacksmiths. Once again, Kairu lay down right on the stone floor, wrapping himself in his cloak. No one spoke a word. A soothing silence filled the chamber.