The Nether Scroll Chapter 5: Into Weathercote Wood and the Reaver Attack
Book: The Nether Scroll | Author: Lynn Abbey | Series: Lost Empires, Book 4 | ISBN: 0-7869-1566-8
Remember how Rozt’a swore she’d show the goblin “the flat of her sword” if he came back? That lasted about six hours.
This chapter opens with one of the best reversals in the book. Rozt’a, the most practical and least superstitious person in the group, had a dream. Lady Mantis appeared to her and whispered, “I’m waiting for you. Come quickly.” And that was that. The woman who promised violence against the goblin woke everyone up and declared they were following him into Weathercote Wood.
The POV switches to Tiep for this chapter, and it’s a great choice. Through his eyes, the adults look ridiculous. They gave him a “partner’s share” this spring and said his opinion mattered, but here they are dragging him into a haunted forest because Rozt’a had a spooky dream. Nobody asked what he thought.
Tiep’s internal monologue is honestly the sharpest writing in the book so far. He’s resentful and funny and completely right about several things while being completely wrong about others. When he grumbles that “the dumbest thing we’ve ever done” is trusting a goblin, he catches Rozt’a’s glare and quickly corrects: “The dumbest thing I’ve ever done.” Survival instincts on point.
The Weathercote Wood itself is wonderfully strange. Trees with sky-blue flowers the size of open hands. An invisible path marked by amber stones that only glow when the goblin touches his pendant. The “safe passage” concept is simple but effective. Stay on the path, you’re fine. Step off, and you’re in someone else’s territory. Someone who doesn’t answer to Lady Mantis.
Tiep tests this, because of course he does. He tries to pick a flower from one of the blue trees and Sheemzher almost puts a spear through him. The goblin goes from polite servant to snarling guardian in about two seconds. “Stay on path. Tree there not safe. Tree there not belong good lady.”
And then things go very wrong. A creature attacks. It’s horse-sized with a short neck, overlapping tusks, and paws instead of hooves. Abbey calls it a “reaver” and it’s genuinely terrifying. The beast screams with magic in the sound, sending waves of terror through the forest. Rozt’a’s sword bites deep but draws no blood. Dru’s fireballs barely slow it down. Galimer’s magic fizzles against it.
The only thing that actually hurts the reaver? Sheemzher’s stone-tipped spear, which draws steaming black fluid from its nose. The goblin hangs on like a rodeo rider while the beast tries to shake him off.
That detail is so good. Three experienced adventurers with steel weapons and wizard fire can’t scratch this thing, but a goblin with a flint spear makes it bleed. It tells you everything about the nature of magic in Weathercote Wood without anyone having to explain it.
Tiep drops out of his tree to steal the spear (because he figures if anyone’s going to fight, it should be him with the only effective weapon), and that’s when Lady Wyndyfarh intervenes. Lightning strikes from a clear blue sky. A one-ended bolt, Dru calls it. The reaver is burnt to a crisp.
There’s a wonderful moment after the fight where Tiep is looking for his lost knife and the goblin finds it first. Sheemzher offers it back politely. Tiep takes it without thanks and wipes it clean before sheathing it. He can’t bring himself to be grateful to a goblin, even one who just saved all their lives.
And while everyone’s distracted, Tiep climbs back up the tree and pries an amber marker loose with his knife. First he smashes a beetle that’s sitting on it, a black jewel-like bug that wouldn’t move. Then he pockets the amber.
The goblin sees and just grins. “Valuable, yes? Valuable outside?”
That grin should be a warning sign. It isn’t.
The rest of the march brings them deeper into the forest, past wards so powerful even Dru can feel them. The landscape shifts from ordinary woodland to something otherworldly. Moss covers everything in living velvet. The air is heavy and hushed.
And then they climb a hill and see the grove. A sparkling pool. Glowing flowers. Butterflies brighter than a queen’s jewels. A marble temple with no walls, just white columns and a blue-green dome. It looks like a place where a god might rest.
Lady Wyndyfarh emerges from behind the waterfall. Tall, thin, pale skin, white and brown striped hair. Unnaturally long fingers pressed together in front of her. Lady Mantis in the flesh.
Tiep whispers to Dru, “She’s deadly. She could kill us as soon as look at us.”
Dru nods. “Deadly’s not dangerous, if you keep your wits about you and your hands at your side.”
And with thumbs hooked under his belt, Tiep follows the others down to meet her.