JUDICATOR JANE 6 - CHAPTER 33

Along the Woods

Eli’va’s head snapped to the left. The Soul Binding had shifted—subtly, but unmistakably. It was on the move. Around her, the lively bustle of Gulfort’s streets faded into meaningless background noise. Clad in her human guise as Lady Vanesh, she gripped the wrists of both Mint and the disguised King Jeric with steel-like precision.

“What is it?” Mint asked, his voice tight with unease.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she turned sharply and quickened her pace, dragging the boys along with her. All around them, whispers swirled like autumn leaves, carried on the wind—talk of the growing shadow in the east, the darkening sky, all laced with creeping dread. She barely registered the stares of passersby as her eyes caught the flash of a tavern sign swinging on rusted hinges, its painted lettering gilded and polished—an upscale establishment by the look of it.

Without pause, she pushed through the door.

Inside, a hearth crackled beside an empty stage, casting long, lazy shadows across the floor. The scent of roast meat hung in the air, but only a few patrons lounged about. The barkeep was elbow-deep in polishing tankards beside a bin of dishes. He straightened at the sight of her but said nothing.

Eli’va’s gaze swept past him, landing on the far corner of the tavern.

There, seated with effortless confidence, was a voluptuous woman laughing softly, her smile honeyed and her eyes razor-sharp. Three men surrounded her, each vying clumsily for her attention.

“Come visit my estate on the Golden Coast,” one man said, puffing his chest. “You’ll never want to leave. And with that dreadful darkness spreading—what better refuge?”

“Hah!” another scoffed. “You couldn’t guard a chicken coop. My estate is near Talantis. We Southerners don’t scare easy. Let that cloud come—I’ll defend you.”

As Eli’va approached, the woman’s head snapped toward her. The flirtatious facade vanished, replaced by cool calculation. She rose at once, brushing past the men without a word.

“Lady Nadine,” Eli’va said, stopping a few paces away.

“Lady Vanesh,” Nadine replied with equal gravity, her gaze drifting down to the two boys. “I see. So he survived. And the other?”

“Not here,” Eli’va said sharply. “We leave. Now.”

Nadine nodded without hesitation. “I’ve prepared provisions. Wait here.” She disappeared into the back hall, her footsteps swift and certain.

“Mint,” Jeric whispered, eyes wide, “is that Lord Redborne’s wife—”

A painful yelp escaped him as Eli’va’s grip tightened in warning.

Moments later, Nadine returned with a heavy satchel slung over one shoulder. With a brisk nod, she fell into step beside Eli’va, and together they slipped back into the city’s uncertain dawn.

***

Outside the northern gates of Gulfort, Eli’va finally loosened her grip on the boys’ wrists. The cool air of the outskirts stirred faintly as the city’s noise faded behind them.

“What’s going on, Eli’va?” Mint asked, concern creasing his brow.

She exchanged a look with Nadine. “Jane is on the move—headed south with her horde. That makes this an ideal time to rendezvous. Now that we’ve collected the only other Infiltrator in the region, our journey can begin.”

Without warning, she turned to Jeric and snatched the necklace from his neck, stripping away the illusion that masked his identity. “You won’t be needing this anymore. Let’s have a look at you.” She tossed the charm to Nadine, who tucked it swiftly into her satchel. Triggering General Identification, she appraised the boy.

Jeric Arctavian (Level 104)

Human

“Good, you’re strong.” Then Eli’va straightened, eyes scanning both boys with an unreadable expression. Her gaze lingered a moment longer on Mint. Losing him during the battle with Pogg had pierced her in ways she still couldn’t articulate—a cold knife twisted deep. But here he was, alive. Not only alive, but stronger, having captured the enemy king no less. It vindicated every choice she’d made.

“Moving north?” Jeric asked, nervous. “But we’re already as far north as we can go… She’s close, isn’t she? I… I don’t know if I’m ready to see Jane again.”

Mint turned slowly, his eyes wide, finally realizing where exactly they were. Beyond Gulfort, the horizon was swallowed by the vast, silent mass of the Great Woods—dark, ancient, and undisturbed.

“Eli’va,” he said slowly, “is she in… the woods?”

“Perhaps,” she replied. “The Soul Binding points northwest. We’ll follow its direction as directly as the terrain allows. And for now, the path leads through that forest.”

She turned to both boys, tone steady. “Fear not. Serous has told me of its dangers. The titans will not bother us, so long as we do not disturb the trees. We will sleep underground.”

Jeric’s head snapped up. “Serous?! You’ve spoken to my advisor? Where is he? Is he safe?”

Eli’va ignored the question. “The critch are the greater threat within the woods, but Nadine and I can handle them. In fact, from what Serous described, they may provide a perfect opportunity to gain further strength.”

Jeric’s panic was starting to rise. “The Great Woods? No, no, no—we can’t go in there! That’s a death sentence! We’re just children!”

Even Mint looked uneasy. Eli’va sighed inwardly. Humans are soft, she reminded herself. Lacking a proving ground for the younglings to grow into battle was one of the many failings of their race. Very well, they simply need encouragement.

She knelt and placed a firm hand on each boy’s shoulder, softening her expression just enough to pass for a smile. “Don’t worry. These are your formative years. You must face real challenges now. This is just one of them. Don’t be afraid—you’ll either rise and claim your right to live… or you’ll die.”

Jeric paled. “I don’t want to die!”

“Good,” she said simply. “That’s the first step.”

She stood again, eyes sharp. “Both of you are high enough level that you won’t fall from a single blow. But there will be many battles, and you will undoubtedly be wounded. Mint, are you ready to put your skills to the test?”

He swallowed hard, then nodded with determination. “I am.”

“Good.” Her gaze shifted to Jeric. “And you? What skills do you possess?”

Jeric hesitated, rubbing his arm. “I… I don’t have combat abilities. My skills are for ruling, for diplomacy and law… kingly matters!”

“Is that so?” Eli’va’s voice held no judgment—only doubt. “We’ll see soon enough. Your old life is over. You now belong to Jane King’s horde. Whether you like it or not, you’ll prove your worth. When we meet the mistress, I will report what you’ve done. Or failed to do. Consider this your opportunity to gain a station higher than a common Hellguard.”

Behind her, Nadine stepped forward, shifting seamlessly into her true form—a sleek demon with black eyes and sharp edges. “Preparations are complete. I’ve fashioned the sleeping covers you requested.” She scoffed. “Hard to believe burrows can be dug by hand in this world. ”

Jeric reeled back. “Lady Nadine… you too?” He turned to Mint, his voice barely a whisper. “I… I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I feel faint.”

Mint leaned in. “Better get over it quick. Eli’va doesn’t stand for nonsense.”

Eli’va nodded approvingly. “Good. Come along, younglings. It’s time you faced a real challenge.”

***

Gareth reined in his horse, eyes narrowing as he spotted a trembling family huddled near a grove of trees, clearly having strayed from the King’s Road.

“You need to stay with the group,” he called down, voice stern but not unkind. “Follow the King’s Road to Dawnskeep. Do you hear me?”

The disheveled man at their head, his brown cap askew, nodded rapidly. “Y-yes, Sir Gareth. Apologies—I don’t know how we got so turned around.”

With a sharp tut, Gareth turned his mount and galloped back toward the main column. The evacuation from Glavenholm was already a shambles, and he’d be repeating the ordeal again soon in Gulfort. He could only hope Lord Emir fared better in the southeast with Bolgrador. Worse still was the absence of the King and his Administrator skills; without them, organizing such a mass movement felt like threading water through a needle. How Lord Tygal was managing anything amidst the chaos remained a mystery.

The eternal night pressing westward from the east was unstoppable. Setting foot within its borders meant near-constant skirmishes with the undead—Lord Melkit’s legions hugging its edges. If only I could have reached him for parlay! But no emissary could penetrate that tide, and none of Lord Melkit’s more human companions had surfaced.

Gareth shook the thought aside as he spurred his horse forward—only to grimace moments later at the sight of congestion up ahead. He slowed as the cause became clear: two wagons, both overturned, blocking the entirety of the King’s Road.

A nearby squad leader offered a crisp salute. “Two broken wheels, sir. Snapped at the exact same time. Just as they passed one another.”

Gareth frowned. “Both at once?”

The soldier shrugged. “Never seen anything like it. Just bad luck, I suppose. We’re working to clear the path now.”

“Very well. Carry on,” Gareth muttered, careful to keep the frustration from his voice. Since leaving Dawnskeep, their march had been plagued by mishaps. First the earthquake in Brael. Then fallen trees clogging the King’s Road. Even Glavenholm hadn’t been spared—rats had infested the granaries, halving the food supply overnight.

He exhaled slowly. Still… they’d managed to evacuate the citizens before the undead swept in. That had to count for something. But if these calamities continue…

He pushed the thought away. If only you were here, Brolin. You’d know what to make of this. He hadn’t seen his old friend since coming under Pogg’s control. Gareth offered a silent prayer to the Maker for his well being and nudged his horse forward once more.

His ears twitched at the sharp cry of a woman’s shriek, followed by the panicked whinnying of horses. He closed his eyes briefly, drawing a steady breath as he tried to center himself.

Then, with a quiet curse and a flick of the reins, he urged his steed forward—ready to face whatever fresh calamity awaited on the road ahead.