Besotted (The Fairest Maidens #3) - Jody Hedlund Page 0,3

I landed, expecting to roll into the base of the cliff. Instead, I found myself tumbling down into a cavern. As I cascaded to a stop, I scrambled to my knees, on the alert for a basilisk. Scant light made it past the layer of shrubs covering the opening, but it was enough for me to see the cave was low, hardly big enough for a man to sit without bumping his head.

Strangely, the cavern seemed to extend backward into the cliff. Keeping my weapons at the ready, I crouched low and crept through the passageway. I was surprised when it widened, allowing me to partially rise and leading me uphill. Natural light filtered through the tunnel, so much so that I suspected I was approaching another opening.

I scrambled up the last of the incline to find a layer of thick vines shielding the exit, preventing me from viewing what lay beyond. Cautiously, I used the tip of my knife to peel back the curtain of vegetation until I was able to peer through.

More of the same overgrown woodland lay beyond. Naught was unusual or different about the landscape than the rest of Inglewood Forest. Nevertheless, as I crept from the cave, my senses were on high alert.

Could I really even call it a cave? It felt more like a long-forgotten, secret passageway through the ravine. And if it was a secret passageway, did something in this area need to be kept secret?

As I straightened and took in my surroundings, the thrill of adventure lured me as it always did. A small jaunt through this new part of the forest wouldn’t hurt anyone, would it? I needn’t worry about Jorg. He’d pick up on my trail and catch up to me in no time.

I found a slight deer path that seemed to have some use and followed it. Perhaps I’d find castle ruins. Or what if a dragon, like in stories of old, lived in the area? Maybe I’d find an ancient treasure.

More likely there was nothing. Even so, anticipation led me farther from the ravine than I knew I should go. Though I kept a lookout for the dead, barren areas that signaled a basilisk, the forest was as lush and fertile as I imagined the Garden of Eden had been.

Occasional sunlight pierced the covering of oak, birch, and hazel. A slight breeze rattled the branches, and while the leaves hadn’t yet begun to shed the green from summer and don the color of autumn, the cooler nights of late meant the change would begin erelong.

While I found no hint of basilisks, I also found no hint of anything secret. My hunt was futile, and the growling of my stomach reminded me I needed to return to fishing. As I spun on my heels and began to retrace my steps, a faint voice wafted on the wind—or at least what sounded like a voice.

I halted but heard only the brushing of leaves overhead. Intrigued once more, I reversed my path, heading deeper into the forest and keeping my tread light so that when the voice rose on the wind again, I knew I hadn’t imagined things.

I craned my ear. Was someone singing?

Another breeze rippled through the trees, bringing the sound with more clarity. A woman was most definitely singing.

I picked up my pace, my anticipation mounting. Tracking the direction of the voice, I veered off the deer path onto another trail of some kind. Since arriving in Inglewood Forest, Jorg had decided I was his pupil and he needed to pass all his knowledge to me. Of course, I’d already had rigorous training from some of the best knights in Scania as part of my education as a prince.

But I could admit, Jorg’s skills had saved our lives on more than one occasion, and I’d benefitted under his tutelage. Even now, I took in every bent blade, crushed leaf, and broken twig, seeing far more in the forest than I would have a year ago.

The singing grew more distinct until I was almost upon the person. Through the shrubbery ahead, I caught a glimpse of blue before it was gone. I inched forward, making sure to stay hidden behind tree trunks and stumps until I reached the edge, where the forest opened into a small glade filled with long grass and wildflowers.

A woman was dancing.

I peered through thick branches, guessing this was the woman I’d heard singing. But now she was twirling and humming a familiar tune. In a