Swift Magic (The Swift Codex Book 2) by Nicolette Jinks

murder charge and fighting it across societies. It'd be an adventure in the normal world, under lamb laws. Magic makes it more intense and confusing.”
     
    Lyall nodded, distracted as though in his own thoughts. “And now you are in a place with rules no one knows except instinctively.”
     
    “At least I have a lot of instinct,” I said. “And I know this summons is meant to be a test, but I don't see how it can prove guilt or innocence. There's no judge to speak to, no jury or lawyers, or anything. Just a huge forest. I don't understand how I'm to be judged one way or another if I am meant to wander around and try not to die.”
     
    “That's not necessarily your goal. As you wander, you encounter things. Plants, animals, and people. How you interact with them is monitored—what you do and why. That's what matters. Who you are, what you do, and why. Because once the woods knows that, it knows what you'll do anywhere.”
     
    “But if that's all it cares about, then why bother with the summons?” I asked. “Why the major threat if the forest and the fey kin don't care about the crime? And why do they even take notice?”
     
    “It's not necessarily that the fey kin don't care. It's that the forest doesn't.”
     
    “Oh.” I stopped, processing what he said and pondering it. “So the forest is the first test, a test to see if the woods even thinks that the person in question is worthy of meeting with the Fey Council, also perhaps a buffer to keep the people within the forest safe from those outside.”
     
    “You have an incredible way of understanding the nature of the Wildwoods.”
     
    Lyall didn't appear pleased when he said this, he stared at me as though this made me dangerous. Possibly it did, if he was used to the tricks and falsehoods of the feys.
     
    I tried to lighten the mood. “Tell me about the feys and the Wildwoods. What is it like? What can I expect when I arrive?”
     
    Coldness replaced Lyall's unease. “I won't say. If you arrive, you will discover that for yourself. I have been out of the Wildwoods often enough to know that it's unlike anything you've ever been in before. The people are still people but different from how you would anticipate them from being. They are suspicious of outsiders, and will be doubly more so since you come to them with blood on your hands.”
     
    “I did not murder Cole,” I said, responding with the same chilly tone. “Life or death, I choose life.”
     
    “Odd that earlier got a message from Death.”
     
    “Death doesn't want me to die, so I will follow him. And there's something wrong with the balance in this woods, so I'll be here until it's sorted.”
     
    Lyall huffed and stomped down the trail all the faster. The tension between us prevented us from speaking again.
     
    Mordon took my hand and squeezed it. We followed after Lyall at our own pace, making it a quick one out of desire to not be eaten up by a swarm of insects which followed us. Gradually, we descended down and down and down the ravine until we were walking the footpath alongside the river which calmed in places, and there fish darted beneath the surface. Farther upstream, we saw Lyall waiting for us, leaning against a tree trunk, his earlier petulance forgotten.
     
    Over the lake which danced with waves from the distant waterfall, painted gypsy wagons floated over the surface of the water. A small boat with a pair of oars waited for us in the sand and moss of the shore.
     
    I smiled, giddy with anticipation. “Do you think that some of them know tricks and whatnot? Or do they just wander around?”
     
    Even Lyall softened at my enthusiasm. “They're entertainers when the mood strikes them.”
     
    While he dragged the boat back to the water, Mordon put an arm around my waist. Still panting from the hike, I curled up against his chest and stroked his chin, relieved to have a good place to sleep tonight.
     

Chapter Twelve
     
    I loved boat rides. My fingers skimmed the