The road back to Garanwyn stretched long and muddy before them.

  Their travel cloaks—which would serve as blankets come nightfall—were already dusty from the road. Dain's lute bumped against his hip with each step, his linen travel pouch swung across his other shoulder. Seren moved with the economy of someone used to long distances, her pouch settled comfortably, knife at her belt catching occasional glints of sun. Ink ranged ahead, nose working.

  They'd left Eldmere at dawn, before the crowds could gather again. Before anyone could ask them to stay.

  The festival already felt distant. Like a dream that faded the moment you tried to remember it.

  "Shall we stop soon? Have some food?" Dain asked.

  Ink's tail wagged once.

  "At the crossroads," Seren said.

  Ink veered off into the field, already hunting.

  "Look at these! Someone's left us proper thrones!" Dain patted one of the rocks—weathered stone with a natural dip for sitting and a raised bit behind that could, if you squinted, be a backrest. "This one's mine. King of the Crossroads, me."

  Seren looked at him like he was mad, but sat on the flatter rock beside his anyway.

  Dain swung his pouch around, dug into the front pocket for his food bundle—his supplies were wrapped in waxed linen—kept the fish smell from getting into everything else. Learned that the hard way.

  He handed Seren some hard tack and salt fish from his supplies.

  "Cheers." Seren smiled and took a swig from her waterskin.

  Ink returned from the field with a hare, still warm. She settled near Seren and started with the brains—always the brains first.

  Dain watched, still crunching hardtack. "Reckon she's got the right idea. This tastes like desert."

  "Desert?" Seren's brow furrowed.

  "Yeah—dry, barely keeps you alive. Like this." He held up the hardtack, made a face.

  Seren almost smiled. "That's a terrible comparison."

  "Accurate though, innit?"

  All three of them sat quietly chewing away when Ink's head snapped up, ears forward. A low growl rumbled in her chest.

  A flustered old man rushed down the centre track towards them.

  Ink launched forward, barking—sharp, alert—then skidded to a stop three feet from Bedwyr. Her tail started wagging. She dropped low showing she’s friendly as she switched her body from stiff to wriggly then trotted back to Seren looking slightly embarrassed.

  "Bedwyr? Is that you?" Seren exclaimed uncertainly.

  "Yes, yes, it's me, my dear."

  Bedwyr looked over his shoulder, then back at her, flustered. "I've been trying to reach you but I can’t find Fred. Just turned around and poof he was gone."

  “Oh dear, what’s he up to now?” She sounded happy seeing her old friend and hugged him. “What are you doing here?”

  Dain grinned, seeing Seren smile. Whoever this old bloke was, she was proper happy to see him. He took another bite of salt fish, content to watch the reunion.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “Apart from keeping the forest’s reputation going. I’ve come to warn you.”

  “Who are you trying to scare out of the forest now Bedwyr? And warn us? About what?”

  “Well, Theron and, well, Theron.”

  “Sorry, mate—who's Theron?” Dain asked around his mouthful.

  “Oh, sorry!” Seren blushed realising she hadn’t introduced Bedwyr to Dain.

  “Bedwyr, this is Dain of the Hollow Roads. And Dain, this is the druid Bedwyr, an old friend.”

  “Nice to meet you, young man. I'd introduce you to Fred, but he's wandered off—probably checking out the local mares. Stubborn beast.”

  Dain’s eyes went wide at the mention of druid, but tried to keep his excitement contained, “Honoured to meet you, Sir.” He wanted to ask more but was trying to be polite and not sound stupid.

  “Who’s this Theron?” Seren reminded Bedwyr.

  “Oh, right, Theron. He’s one of Valgarr’s snakes. No offense to snakes, of course. And he will be travelling back to Garanwyn too, you don’t want to meet him on your route.”

  “So what now?” Seren asked.

  “Oh, you do not take the coastal road. Get some more cloaks and supplies, You’ll need to take the central track that goes through Sorrow’s Gap. And be warned the snow is thick up there.”

  Just then a grey horse came walking down the same path Bedwyr had come from, moving his head from side to side without a care in the world.

  "Oi, old man, what're you doing wandering off without me?"

  Dain's mouth fell open. "Did the horse just—"

  "I didn't wander off!" Bedwyr protested. "YOU disappeared! One moment you were right behind me, the next—gone!"

  Fred snorted. "I was standing RIGHT THERE. You walked past me. I called your name three times."

  "I looked everywhere for you!"

  "Clearly not everywhere, since I was directly in front of you." Fred turned his back on Bedwyr—the ultimate dismissal.

  Bedwyr's jaw tightened. "May your next apple have a worm in it," he muttered.

  "I heard that."

  "You were meant to."

  "Dain, you can close your mouth now," Seren said. "Bedwyr and Fred have been together for ages. Fred's mythical—his mother was a horse-headed minotaur, father was a centaur. He inherited the horse bits from both sides."

  Fred snorted. "Excuse me, I can introduce myself, thank you very much." He turned to face Dain properly, looking him up and down with obvious appreciation. "Fred. And you're Dain, I heard. Very nice to meet you."

  Bedwyr rolled his eyes. "Oh, for—"

  "What? I'm being polite." Fred's tail swished. "Can't a horse appreciate a handsome young man?"

  Dain blinked, then grinned. "Cheers, mate. You're not bad yourself."

  "Oh, I like this one." Fred turned to Seren. "Much better company than the old man."

  "May a rock get stuck in your hoof," Bedwyr muttered.

  "Don't worry, old man. I'm sure Dain here would be quite happy to pick my feet for me." Fred gave Dain another appreciative look.

  Dain's cheeks went red. "I mean—yeah, I could—if you needed—"

  Seren choked on her water, coughing and trying not to laugh.

  Bedwyr sighed. "Fred, stop tormenting the boy. We have actual important matters to discuss."

  "I'm not tormenting anyone. Just being friendly." Fred's tail swished innocently.

  "Friendly later." Bedwyr turned to Seren, serious now. "Theron left Eldmere this morning, taking the coastal road. You'll be on different routes until Fenreach—that's where the roads meet again."

  "So we need to stay behind him," Seren said, understanding immediately.

  "Exactly. Don't rush. Let him get well ahead. Better to arrive a day late than cross paths with one of Valgarr's inquisitors." Bedwyr's expression was grave.

  Dain shouldered his lute. "Right. Slow and steady through the haunted forest. No problem."

  "It's not actually haunted," Bedwyr said mildly.

  "Really?" Dain asked slightly confused.

  “Yeah he just makes it look that way.” Seren said.

  Bedwyr almost smiled. "Exactly."

  Seren hugged him briefly. "Thank you for the warning."

  "Stay safe, my dear. And give Bree my regards when you reach Myr."

  Fred stepped closer to Dain. "Safe travels, handsome. Don't freeze in Sorrow's Gap."

  "I'll do my best, yeah?" Dain grinned.

  "Come on, Fred." Bedwyr was already turning back toward the forest. "Leave the boy alone."

  "I wasn't doing anything!"

  "You never are."

  Their voices faded as they disappeared into the trees, still bickering.

  Seren looked at the central path leading toward the mountains. "Ready?"

  "Ready," Dain said.

  Ink took point, and they headed into the forest everyone believed was haunted.