The Lantern Road

Mara first noticed the lanterns after the rain stopped.

They hung from branches that had not been there before, each one cupping a small amber flame. The road beneath her boots was the same road she had walked since noon, or nearly the same: white stones, black mud, the clean smell of stormwater lifting from the moss.

But the map said the forest was two miles wide.

Mara had been walking for six.

The nearest lantern swung though no wind moved. When she reached for it, the flame leaned away from her fingers like a shy thing. A low voice spoke from somewhere beyond the trees.

“Best keep walking.”

Mara tightened her hand around the strap of her satchel. “Who is there?”

“Someone who stopped.”

The lanterns ahead brightened one by one, making a path deeper into the wood. Behind her, the road had gone dark.