He shook his head. “It’s a ghost town.”
Ghosts? Sorcha suppressed a shudder. It was a shame her sister Luciana wasn’t here, since she could see and talk to the dead. A pang tightened Sorcha’s chest. Oh, how she missed her sisters! This was the first night she’d ever been parted from all four of them. They would know exactly what to say to reassure her and calm her nerves.
Had Gwennore heard the message from the giant redwoods? Were carrier pigeons already taking the news to her other sisters? When they learned what was happening, they would be worried sick.
But how strange was this? In the past, it had always been her sisters who were in danger, and Sorcha who had been left to feel desperate and helpless. In fact, it was her worry for Gwennore’s safety that had caused her to stumble into this dangerous situation.
Sorcha’s thoughts turned to her sister Brigitta, who loved to create what the nuns teasingly referred to as overly dramatic stories. For months now, Gwennore had been playing the role of heroine, but with a small shock, Sorcha realized this was no longer her sister’s story. Her own overly dramatic tale had begun.
She groaned inwardly. This was not something she had ever wanted to happen. Did this mean she would meet the elf predicted by the Telling Stones? If so, then why was she experiencing this odd attraction to the Woodsman?
Dammit, she didn’t want to be attracted to anyone. Why should you be? Surely, she could control her own feelings.
As they rounded a bend, her attention turned to an old stone cottage. Blackened stone walls and a crumbling chimney were all that remained. The roof had burned away, and black holes marked where the door and windows had been.
She winced. It looked too much like the kitchen she’d accidentally burned down. But where the nuns had rebuilt the kitchen, this cottage had been abandoned to the elements. Green moss and ivy were slowly taking over.
More burned cottages came into view. The light of Father Kit’s lantern flickered eerily across the skeletal remains of what had once been a vibrant community built around a village green. On the north side of the green, a slightly charred chapel of Enlightenment sat, its wooden spire still reaching for the heavens. Next to the chapel was a large, stone well. In the center of the village green, a few stone benches surrounded a sandbox and a children’s swing.
Sorcha’s heart sank. What had become of the children? “What happened here?”
“The villagers lost everything, but they survived,” the Woodsman replied. “Most went to live with relatives, but those who had nowhere to take refuge went to Haven.”
Father Kit dismounted close to the well and set the lantern on the ground next to a stone trough. “We should water the horses and refill our flagons.”
The Woodsman dismounted, then waited while Sorcha swung down. When the horse suddenly moved, she lost her balance, and he caught her by the arms to steady her.
“Goodness.” She wondered why the horse was acting so skittish. “Do ye think it’s sensing a ghost nearby?” She looked up at the Woodsman, who was silently studying her.
Once again, the air between them felt hotter, almost sizzling with energy. Her gaze drifted to his beautiful mouth, and his grip on her arms tightened ever so slightly.
Aleksi cleared his throat, signaling his disapproval.
She stepped back. “Excuse me.”
Without a word, the Woodsman turned and strode toward the center of the village green.
“Was it something I said?” she muttered.
Father Kit chuckled as he lifted a wooden bucket of water from the well. “More likely, it’s something one of the Living Oaks said. He can hear them better if he’s not listening to us. They’re keeping him apprised as to the whereabouts of all the search parties.” He poured the water into the trough, and the horses gathered around to drink.
Aleksi frowned as he folded his arms across his bare chest. “Why has the army sent out search parties? Are they aware that the princess and I have escaped?”
Father Kit shrugged. “I wouldn’t know about that.”
“We’re the ones they’re looking for,” Liz boasted as he raised another bucketful of water from the well.
“Why?” Aleksi asked. “What did you do?”
Sorcha winced. “Ye must be cold without yer shirt.” She draped her cloak around Aleksi’s shoulders.
He gave her a wry look. “Are you trying to change the subject?”
Father Kit filled his flagon with water. “The search parties are looking for us—the Woodsman and his followers. Most will have made it safely to Haven by now.”
“What is Haven?” Aleksi demanded.
“Our hideout.” Liz grinned. “The army doesn’t know where it is.”
Aleksi narrowed his eyes. “And why do you need a hideout?”
“Shouldn’t we be going now?” Sorcha asked, and Aleksi shot her an annoyed look.
“Did no one tell you, son?” Father Kit jammed the cork back into his flagon. “While the elfin soldiers were away, luring you into a trap, our band was stealing their food supplies.”
“You’re thieves?” Aleksi shouted.
With a wince, Sorcha slanted a glance at the Woodsman. No doubt, he had heard Aleksi, for he was now facing them, his fists clenched at his sides.
She turned to Aleksi. “Would ye have preferred to stay with the army? The elves were going to let you die. I couldn’t carry you to the border, so we were damned lucky these men offered to help.”
Aleksi dragged a hand through his long black hair. “But how can we trust a band of thieves? How do we know they didn’t rob this village and set it on fire?”
“What?” Father Kit huffed. “Of all the—I’ll have you know that we are men of honor. It was the army who destroyed this village.”
“The elfin army attacked its own people?” Aleksi scoffed. “You expect me to believe that?”
“It’s true!” Liz cried. “Whenever the army runs out of supplies, they raid the neighboring villages. The people here objected, so the army locked them up in the chapel and stole all their food and livestock.”
Father Kit nodded. “And then, to teach them a lesson, the army set their houses on fire.”
Sorcha grimaced. “That’s terrible!”
Aleksi looked unconvinced. “I know the elfin army attacks villages in Eberon and Norveshka, but why would they treat their own people like that?”
Father Kit shrugged. “This is not the only village to have suffered the same fate. Every community within fifty miles of the army encampment has been destroyed. That is why the people left this place. There was no point in starting over as long as the army was close by.”
“I believe it,” Sorcha muttered. “I know for a fact that General Caladras and his son are a pair of bastards.”
“All right,” Aleksi conceded. “I’ll agree with that. But why did your band steal food from the army?”
Liz huffed. “They stole it first. They raided Drudaelen Castle two days ago, and there was nothing Lord Daelen could do about it. If you defy the army, they can label you a traitor and hang you on the spot.”
Sorcha stiffened when she realized what the Woodsman and his men were actually doing. “Ye’re returning the goods to the original owners.”