I explained all this to the wisp, which chimed along with appropriate responses as we headed for one of the main forest roads. Clopping along the trails of the Black Wood, it wasn’t difficult to tell where it got its name. At night, of course, everything was black. But the same was true for the daylight hours as well, all except for the snow. The trunks of the thick, old trees were black. The branches that bent and twisted into each other so that only small beams of sunlight made it through to the earth, those were all black. Even the leaves, and pine needles, and the tops of the shrubs sticking out of the snow—all black.
“You know why everything here is black, Little Will-o’?” I asked eventually, to distract myself from the fact that the air was colder under the shade of the wood. It answered no. “My mother always told me it’s because most of the wars have been fought in the Black Wood, instead of by sea or the Amalgam Plains. Over time, the plants soaked up all the blood spilled here, and it’s turned them all black.” A hum of acknowledgment. “Of course, there are those that say it’s because the woods are haunted,” and I reached out to give the wisp a playful poke, “with ghosts more frightening than you, Little Will-o’.” Then I added with a shrug, “Maybe it’s both.”
Finally, we reached a wooden signpost back near the area I’d found the princess’s clothing. I couldn’t read words, so I didn’t know the names of the villages it was pointing to, but my mother had taught me to read the numbers, which indicated distance. Being in the state I figured her to be, it made sense that the princess would have headed for the closest village, one the post told me was only three miles straight into the forest.
I occupied the ride to the village with telling my wisp and animal companions more stories. I never was exactly sure why I talked so much sometimes. Out hunting, there were periods I’d lie in wait for hours, so concentrated on not making a sound that I feared to even breathe too loudly. It seemed to me the words just built up, and when I wasn’t hunting they all came pouring out. Of course, I also explained this to my friends, though the only response I got out of any of them was a chiming giggle.
The village we reached was a small one, the largest building in it being a sort of inn. The inn only had one bedroom, but I wasn’t interested in renting it. I asked the keeper if he’d seen a girl that fit the princess’s description, only without mentioning who she was. The last thing I wanted to do was alert the foresters to the fact that the princess was in the woods. Instead, I told the keeper she had a debt to settle with my family, and if he happened to see her, I’d be much obliged if he kept her here. I made sure to let him know to keep her well fed and comfortable, and that I’d reimburse him for any trouble. That’s exactly what I told every villager I asked, after each one of them said they hadn’t seen her.
Even though most of them assured me they’d keep an eye out, I didn’t expect them to remember. But I refused to be disheartened by it, and I continued to the next closest village to further my search. It took all day for me to discover nothing of importance, and by the time the sun was about to go down, I was exhausted and hungry. Reluctant to use the gold the king had given me to stay at an inn, I lit a fire a ways outside of the last village I’d searched, and sent Maddox into the air to find food.
She returned more swiftly this time with an ermine in her grasp. The small rodent didn’t have much meat on its bones, but it would suffice until morning. I whispered my usual thanks, and after making sure Maddox and Albus were fed, I cooked my own portion over the fire. I was quiet while I ate, lacking the energy to speak too much until after I’d finished my meal. What I did instead was observe my two newest companions, Maddox and Will-o’. The wisp seemed to enjoy the bird’s company a curious amount, even if the falcon appeared mildly irritated at having its feathers so often ruffled. It was an interest to me why the wisp seemed so fascinated with Maddox, as it paid little mind to any of the wild birds we encountered, but it was a fascination I couldn’t account for, no matter how closely I studied.
My energy returned soon after I’d eaten, but for some reason I wasn’t in the mood to talk for the rest of the night. The whole situation was troubling, but mostly it was that I didn’t know what had become of the princess after she left the witch’s cabin. I could track anything that left behind a scent or a print, but the princess had left nothing. Maybe she’d disappeared into thin air and ceased to exist. Or maybe she’d been transformed into a bird, and was out there somewhere, just a tiny sparrow that didn’t know who it really was. I spread out under my sleeping furs with these queries in mind, unable to completely rest easy even after I removed the tight linens around my torso. Albus could sense my discomfort, because while he always stayed at my side, tonight he set his head right on top of my chest. Even the attentive wisp knew it, because it nuzzled against my cheek until it got a laugh out of me, and then it stayed perched at my shoulder for warmth the rest of the night.
By morning, most of my vigor had been restored, and I picked up telling my companions stories while we headed farther south to the next village. There was the love story about the giant and the star. There was the horror story about the skin walker in the mountains of the Amalgam Plains. Will-o’s favorite, however, was the comedy about the sea dragon that played jokes on fishermen. All of the stories I communicated I’d either heard from my mother or from the permanent minstrel who nested at the inn nearest my home, and all of them I knew by heart.
I got something resembling information at the second village I reached that day. The inn here was larger, with a handful of rooms down a hall connected to the main area where there were dining tables, and a massive fire pit at the center of it all. I made sure to leave Albus outside, and greeted the innkeeper amicably enough, but the first thing he did was point to Little Will-o’.
“What’s that?” he asked gruffly.
“A Will-o’-the-wisp,” I told him, and trying not to make much of it, continued, “I’m searching for someone, and perhaps you’ve seen her.”
All he did was glare at me through his squinty eyes. “You a mage?” His hair was cropped close to his balding head, and his teeth were a revolting combination of yellow and gray. “Magic’s against the law.”
“I’m a hunter, I don’t do magic,” I assured him, but motioned for Will-o’ to hide away in the hood of my coat, out of sight. The innkeeper grunted in acknowledgment, and would have walked away if I didn’t stop him. “The girl I’m looking for,” I said, and then described the princess. He only gave me a sort of half answer that he hadn’t seen her before beginning to turn away again. “Perhaps, kind sir, you could point me in the direction of the next southernmost village?” The only option I could see was to keep heading south.
“Next village isn’t for thirty-five miles,” he answered in annoyance, but returned to me to give me his full attention. “Along the border of here and Ronan. ‘Til then it’s all forest tribes.” He narrowed those squinty eyes at me again. “You Valenian?”
“Yes,” I responded, furrowing my eyebrows and wondering why he wanted to know.
“From Guelder?” he questioned, and I began to worry that he knew I was searching for the princess. I told him I was from somewhere near Guelder, and he gave another grunt, thoughtful this time. “I might’ve seen a girl, if you’ve got the gold for it.”