Chapter 55

THE CLEARING was silent, the air still heavy and rimy with yesterday's rain. They'd struck out south when they broke camp this morning, the forest petering out along the way, from dense and thick to sparser growth that grudgingly let through moody, erratic sunlight. Fewer evergreens here--more oaks and elms--and the leaves and deadfall on the forest floor slipped and slid in the muck beneath their feet and the horses' hoofs. Dead vines wound thick and treacherous, so the speed they should have gained through clearer paths was canceled out by another day of cautious stepping. Still, they'd covered a lot more ground than Wil had ever done walking.