Free The Fog of Forgetting by G. A. Morgan Page B

in his hair standing straight up.
    Seaborne’s laugh rang out in the gloom.
    â€œGood! I am glad.”

Chapter 6
THE HOUNDS OF MELOR
    T his place looks just like Fells Harbor, only the trees are bigger,” Knox insisted. He was trying to convince Chase that they were safe on one of the outer islands. “Look at how tall those suckers are.” He pointed with his thumb to a massive tree trunk the size of a boulder.
    Chase gave his brother a tight smile. Maybe Knox was right. Maybe they weren’t far from Summerledge … but something in his gut told him otherwise. Mist was clinging to the ground and snaking around their ankles and between the trees, hungrily moving inland. Only the regular spacing of the white lights along the path kept them from being completely lost—swallowed up by the fog. As it was, they couldn’t see Seaborne and the sword strapped to his back anymore.
    â€œStick close, Teddy,” Chase said nervously.
    â€œD’ya think he’s ditching us?” whispered Knox. “He’s crackers, but he’s better than no one.”
    Before Chase could reply, Seaborne’s voice boomed out of the mist.
    â€œWould you lads tighten line and heave to?”
    They picked up the pace and rounded a steep C-shaped curve that led across a footbridge, which spanned a broad stream and took them into a clearing. At its center stood a small cabin that looked airlifted from a fairy tale. It had log walls and a pitched roof blanketed in thick layers of dried moss and grass. One end of the cabin was taken up completely by a stone chimney. At the other end, a large, slow-turning waterwheel churned in the stream. Seaborne stood at the door of the cabin, on a low, flat rock that served as his stoop; to his right was a small window cut into the wall. He lifted the door open on its leather hinges and went inside.
    â€œCool!” crowed Teddy, racing ahead.
    â€œWhoa,” said Knox. “Where’s the witch?”
    â€œWho needs a witch, when you have him ,” said Chase, eyes darting around the clearing. “Do you think Evelyn and Frankie came here?”
    The small lamps lighting the path were flickering weakly now, like wicks drowning in melted wax. The one directly beside them sputtered, flared, then died. As eerie as the light had been, the forest was blacker and seemed damper without it.
    â€œAre you coming in or not?” asked Seaborne, poking his grizzled head out the door.
    Chase and Knox exchanged looks of resignation. Teddy was already inside. Reluctantly, they picked up their feet and followed.
    The interior of the cabin was dim and musty. The sound of falling water from the churning waterwheel filled the air. A quick inspection revealed that there were no telephones, lights, or indoor plumbing. The fireplace took up most of the wall on the left, and a metal arm stuck out from the rocks that made up the hearth. Across from the door was a bed set sideways against the wall. Next to the bed there were a number of pegs in the wall on which hung shapeless lumps of clothing.
    Seaborne removed his harness, knife belt, and sword and stowed them at the door. Then, he pulled an intact clamshell from deep beneath the folds of cloth around his waist. Stooping by the fireplace, he gently opened the shell and took out a still-glowing coal and placed it on the tinder that lay there. He carefully blew on the spark until it caught and blazed brightly. The fire crackled, flames throwing a dancing orange glow against the wall of the cabin. The damp air retreated.
    â€œHow’d you do that?” Knox asked, impressed.
    Seaborne handed him the clamshell. Inside, other orange-tinged coals smoldered on a nest of fresh seaweed.
    â€œ ’Tis called an ember chamber. Saves the effort of starting from scratch each time.” He took back the shell and leaned in toward the fire, staring into the flames. The combination of the sound from the waterwheel together with the