CHAPTER 48: THE STRAIGHT ROAD (2)

Trees that bent at wrong angles, rocks that shifted position when not directly observed.

"This is unnatural," Renna muttered behind him, her spear tapping nervously against the ground.

"So is walking in circles for days," Nik countered, though his usual humor was strained.

The relic guided them with a mixture of precise instructions and cutting remarks. "Right three steps, then left two, then straight until the split oak," it would say, then follow immediately with: "Try not to trip over your own feet this time. Even the dog has better balance than you."

Apollo bore the insults in silence, focusing on the path ahead. The gold in his veins had warmed again, flowing more freely with each correct step. He could feel the relic’s satisfaction like a physical presence against his spine.

By midday, they had covered more ground than in the previous three days combined. The warped landscape began to stabilize around them, reality reasserting itself in slow, grudging increments.

Trees stood straight again, rocks remained where placed, and the path, while still visible only to Apollo through the relic’s guidance...no longer shifted treacherously beneath their feet.

"It’s working," Nik said during a brief rest, his voice low but excited. "We’re actually getting somewhere."

Thorin grunted, unwilling to admit the obvious. Lyra kept her distance, watching Apollo with an expression that mixed reluctant acceptance with deep suspicion. Renna stayed close to her, the two women forming a united front of wary cooperation.

Only Cale seemed genuinely at ease with their new arrangement, his quiet presence a constant reassurance at Apollo’s back.

They pressed on through the afternoon, the relic’s instructions growing less frequent as the path straightened before them. Its mockery, however, remained consistent, a stream of barbed observations and cutting remarks that seemed designed to maintain its dominance even as its guidance became less necessary.

"Almost there, golden-boy," it announced as they began the final ascent toward the ridge that had been their goal for days. "Try not to look too pleased with yourself. You’re just following orders, after all."

Apollo ignored the taunt, focusing instead on the increasingly normal terrain. The warped wilderness was retreating behind them like a tide going out, leaving solid reality in its wake.

As they crested the ridge, the relic gave one final command: "Stop here. Look down."

Apollo halted, the others coming to rest beside him. Below, spread out in the valley like a painting, lay a city, a real city, with walls and towers and the distant shimmer of water. Smoke rose from countless chimneys, and even from this distance, they could hear the faint ringing of bells marking the hour.

"We did it," Nik breathed, his face split in a genuine grin for the first time in days.

"The relic did it," Lyra corrected, her voice flat despite the obvious relief in her stance.

"I told you so," the artifact announced smugly, its voice loud enough for all to hear. "You’ve learned to walk the Path. Or at least, golden-boy has. The rest of you just followed along like good little sheep."

Thorin spat on the ground, but even his habitual anger seemed muted in the face of their success.

"What now?" Renna asked, looking to Apollo despite herself.

The relic answered before he could. "Now you go down into the city like civilized people instead of wandering the wilderness like savages. Isn’t that what you wanted?"

Apollo met Lyra’s eyes across the group. There was no triumph in her gaze, only a warning he understood too well. This victory had come at a price, and the bill might still be coming due.

The descent into the valley was almost anticlimactic after the strange journey through the warped wilderness. The path was clear, the slope gentle, and by sunset, they stood before the city gates, solid oak banded with iron, flanked by guards who eyed their ragged appearance with professional suspicion.

"Names and business," the captain demanded, a heavyset woman with a scar that bisected her left eyebrow.

"Travelers seeking shelter," Cale answered smoothly before any of them could speak. "We’ve come a long way."

The guard studied them, her gaze lingering on Apollo’s pack where the relic now lay silent. For a heart-stopping moment, he thought she might demand to see it. Instead, she simply nodded.

"Inn’s on the main square. Keep your weapons peace-tied while inside the walls."

They entered the city in silence, each absorbing the sudden shift from wilderness to civilization in their own way. Nik’s eyes darted everywhere, cataloging valuables and escape routes with professional habit.

Thorin seemed to relax slightly, the familiar sounds and smells of a working city easing some of his tension. Renna kept her spear close, peace-tied but ready, her gaze suspicious of every shadow.

Lyra walked ahead, her shoulders stiff with unspoken tension. Apollo followed, hyper-aware of the weight of both the relic against his spine and the collective distrust now directed his way. The city unfolded around them, real buildings with solid walls, streets that didn’t shift beneath their feet, lanterns glowing with steady flames rather than the disorienting flickers of the wilderness.

It hit Apollo like a wall of sensations, smoke from cooking fires, salt carried from nearby docks, and the unmistakable tang of iron from the blacksmith quarter.

All of it crashed over him as they passed beneath the shadow of the massive buildings, a stark contrast to the wilderness that had been their only companion for weeks.

"As he said keep your weapons visible but your hands clear," Lyra murmured, falling into step beside him. Her green eyes darted between the guards who flanked the entrance, their armor polished to a gleam that spoke of discipline rather than vanity. "We’re just travelers. Nothing more."

Apollo nodded, adjusting his pack where the relic lay wrapped and unusually silent. The gold in his veins had cooled to a sluggish crawl beneath his skin, as if uncertain about this new environment.

The streets opened before them into a chaotic tapestry of ordinary life. A woman haggled fiercely over the price of fish, her voice rising above the general din.

Children darted between market stalls, their laughter sharp and bright against the low murmur of commerce. Guards patrolled in pairs, their gazes sweeping the crowd with practiced indifference.

’So normal,’ Apollo thought, watching a fruit vendor polish apples on his sleeve. ’Almost too normal after everything.’