The Forest King’s Daughter

6

To outwit Sylvans, merely bide your time.

Their overconfidence will be their undoing.

—G AXIX, D RACU PHILOSOPHER

S OMETHING ABOUT THE WORD W ELKINCASTER TICKLED Cassia’s memory, but she couldn’t place it.

“No,” Zeru said irritably. “Is it in human lands?”

The Seer’s lips curved in a knowing smile. “Elevate your thoughts.”

He turned his brooding glare on her. “I hate riddles.”

“And yet you seek to break a bond. What is that if not a riddle to solve?”

“Selkolla.” He said it with a warning bite.

The Seer shook her head. “So impatient. It was a place once known to all the folk. The knowledge has faded, but the place still exists. There are two parts to the key that will take you there. I have one. I believe the ring is the other. If I’m correct, Welkincaster is its true home.”

Cassia looked between them, her chest so tight she thought her ribs might snap. They wanted to take her to someplace so remote it was unknown to her people. “I’m not going.”

“You don’t have a choice,” Zeru said.

Nausea twisted her stomach. She crossed her arms, trying to hold herself together.

“Careful, Dracu,” the Seer warned, her expression less amused. “An Ancient artifact is bent and shaped by whoever is wielding it. The girl is scared, untrusting. Her feelings could affect the Solis Gemma.”

“What are you saying?” Zeru asked.

Selkolla paused before answering. “I’m advising you not to test the ring’s ability to protect its wearer. These artifacts are known to have protections of some kind. If you plan to take the girl to Welkincaster by force, you might find your plans going awry.”

Cassia’s head went light with triumph. The Seer’s explanation was guarded and vague, but it sounded as if the ring’s power might work against them if they tried to make her go.

Selkolla turned to her with a softer expression. “What would persuade you to go on this journey? A bargain perhaps?”

“Nothing,” Cassia said succinctly.

The Seer tilted her head to one side. “What has it been, ten years since the ring came into your possession? And still, you haven’t mastered it. You have barely scratched the surface of what the Solis Gemma can do.”

Cassia swallowed, hating that the Seer knew her weak spots. Worse, she had no defense that wouldn’t reveal how perfectly the arrow had hit its mark.

Watching her closely, Selkolla said, “The answers to the power of the ring are in Welkincaster. If you go, you, too, will have the opportunity to find them.”

Zeru made a frustrated sound. “And why would I agree to let her search for information on my queen’s ring ?”

Selkolla gave him a pointed look. “Because this is the only way she will go.”

“Stop,” Cassia said. “I haven’t agreed. Why should I? In fact, why should I believe anything you say? You’re working for my enemy.”

Selkolla’s mouth curved in a small, almost sad smile. “I do not lie, child.” With a long-fingered hand, she tucked her hair behind her ear, showing its pointed tip. “Using magic for a long time changes a person. But I was born of the trees, and I still feel the connection to my own. Far away in the human lands, but it still grows. When it is someday culled by a human axe, my spirit will go to Noctua to be with the goddess.”

Cassia exhaled slowly, a knot easing in her chest at the proof that Selkolla was Sylvan. At least there was one person here who would not lie to her. “And this… Welkincaster. It has the answers I need?”

Selkolla inclined her head. “I believe it must. As I said, it is the true home of the ring.”

Gooseflesh rose on Cassia’s arms. She was inclined to believe the Seer. Because she wanted to? Or because her instincts were leading her to the truth?

“The answers are there,” Selkolla assured her. “Whether you find them will be up to you. If you choose to go.”

“And if I don’t?” Cassia crossed her arms, staring unblinking into the Seer’s eerie eyes.

“If you do not,” the Seer said, pausing for a moment to shift her gaze to Zeru, then back to Cassia, “you’ll remain as you are. In the hands of an enemy, with no more knowledge than you have now.”

Cassia let out her breath in a gasp. “You’re not going to help me. A fellow Sylvan?”

“I wish I could,” Selkolla said, the mark of honesty in every word.

Zeru regarded the Seer with a suspicious look. “You wish you could help her ? Selkolla, she has used the ring to help kill or maim”—he shook his head—“thousands of Azpians. Despite your origins, the Dracu queen has given you sanctuary all these years. Do you have no loyalty to her?”

“Enough, Dracu,” Selkolla said, not backing down. “My allegiance is as it ever was. And you must see that this is the girl’s choice, whether you like it or not. If she stays here, her life remains at risk, and so the fate of the Solis Gemma. The gemstone, above all things, must be preserved.”

“Why is it so important to you?” Cassia challenged. “You’re allied with the Dracu queen. You don’t seem to care what happens to us Sylvans. What does the ring matter?”

Selkolla turned to face her. “The Solis Gemma is an artifact of great power. There are precious few relics of the Ancients left. Its fate, along with the fates of your peoples, lie in the choice you now make. Even the spirits cannot see what comes next. Are those not reasons enough to make me care?”

Cassia’s stomach grew more leaden with every word. She had always hated the burden of responsibility she carried with the ring. It felt too heavy, meant for someone stronger. Now she had the additional burden of choosing wisely at this moment. The risks were so great, she could hardly bear it.

As the Seer spoke to Zeru in low tones, she blocked them out and tried to think. If she stayed here, she had no real hope of rescue. The Huntsmen might use the hounds to track her. They might already know where she’d entered the Cryptlands. But it was unlikely they would risk entering, even for her. Her sisters might want to, but her father would never sanction it. Sylvans who went into the Cryptlands did not come out. But… if she could escape, if she watched and waited until there came an opportunity to outwit her captor, and if the Ancients were on her side and she made it through the tunnels unharmed and actually found a way above, if she could find a way up into Thirstwood, the trees would protect her as she made her way home.

But.

She still wouldn’t know how to use the ring. She had improved her performance in the recent battle, but by how much? Only a little. And she’d had to get so close to the enemy that she’d been captured. Maybe she would do a little better next time. And the time after. But if her father found out she had been offered this chance and refused? A shudder shook her spine. Scarhamm’s walls would tremble with his wrath!

Wishing she knew what to do, she opened her eyes to see a poisoned glare aimed her way. Zeru stared at her as if he could intimidate her into choosing as he wished.

If only she could say, “I choose to go home.” To watch his face fall as Selkolla helped her escape. She could imagine Zeru’s rage, taste the satisfaction of it, and the relief she’d feel at being home again.

But that would be favoring the safe path, the well-worn path. She was choosing a well-lit garden over the night-dark woods. Why? The last time she’d risked everything, sneaking into the forest at night as a child, she’d brought home the ring. Yes, she’d suffered for it. But this was about her people. Her role in her family. Her duty.

If all went well, she’d return home as a victor with a bounty to share. A warrior triumphant. There might be a revel in her honor. Her father might even… praise her.

“Sylvan,” Zeru said, and her eyes snapped back to his. “Do you plan to dither until I die of boredom?”

“Is that a possibility?” When he merely glared, she squared her shoulders. There was only one decision that made sense. “You offered to bargain. If you agree to my terms, I’ll go.”

“ I didn’t offer,” he said, his eyes narrowing on her. “What terms?”

She thought quickly. Bargains were a Sylvan tradition tied to their reputation for honesty. Everyone knew you could agree to a Sylvan bargain confident that the offer was at least truthful, if not beneficial. Terms could be negotiated, of course, but once struck, they were not agreements adhered to by whim or choice. The Ancients always found a way to make you keep your word. Everyone understood this, even Azpians. Which meant Zeru should keep to his side.

She could demand that he leave her unharmed. But the Dracu saw the retrieval of the ring as his path to redemption. She didn’t think he’d risk killing her. No, it was getting home that concerned her. Without clear terms, he could hold her indefinitely, unable to take the ring but unwilling to let her go. This new location could become her prison.

She spoke carefully. “If I use the ring to go with you, you have to vow to return me home unharmed before the next full moon.”

“No,” Zeru said without hesitation. “I don’t know anything about where we’re going or how long it will take to get the ring.”

Selkolla put a steadying hand on his arm. “Zeru, this task will not be accomplished without compromise… Perhaps an adjustment of the terms?” She turned to Cassia. “Three months?”

“One,” she said firmly.

Zeru shook his head. “I won’t make a vow I can’t keep. I’m not ready to surrender my spirit to Noctua just yet.”

Cassia felt a pulse of relief. He knew the sacredness of a bargain. Once agreed upon, he would hold to the terms.

“One month,” she repeated, digging in.

“And if I don’t have the ring by then?” he snarled.

“Even so.” She stood her ground, though her legs shook.

“And that part about being ‘unharmed,’” he said. “Suppose that killing you is the only way to get the ring? That part of the bargain will tie my hands.”

Selkolla sighed. “You are your own worst enemy, Dracu. You have gained a concession from her. Go to Welkincaster. Find a way to remove the ring before the month is over. If you do not, you do not deserve it.”

He looked as if he wanted to smash things, his eyes a green fire in the dim room. “Fine. Do you need a blood pact, Sylvan, or is my word enough?”

“Blood,” she said, though that was an old practice, seen as unnecessary when words were binding enough. But if he was offering to bleed, she wouldn’t say no.

He pulled a dagger from a sheath at his waist. She turned her head away before she could see the blade meet flesh. “If you go with me willingly , I swear to let you return home by the next full moon.”

“Unharmed. Say it.”

“I swear to let you return home, unharmed by me or from any orders of my own, by the next full moon. You can’t refuse that addition, Sylvan. If you die by your own stupidity, I won’t be held responsible.”

She couldn’t think of an argument against that. She could be hurt through no fault of his, and it was natural of him to adjust the wording to protect himself.

“Fine.” Swallowing her misgivings, she put out her hand. “Give me your dagger.”

He handed it over with almost insulting casualness. Didn’t he worry for even a second that she might turn his weapon on him?

She took the dagger, noticing the handle had a fox embossed on the steel, and the sides of the hilt were crafted to look like feathers. It was a beautifully made weapon, more ceremonial-looking than practical. But the blade was sharp as she cut her palm. “As you’ve made a blood oath not to harm me, and to return me home to Scarhamm by the next full moon, I’ll go with you to Welkincaster willingly.”

Zeru took the dagger back, wiped the blade on the dark fabric of his sleeve, and sheathed it. She didn’t miss the flare of triumph that briefly shone in his eyes.

Selkolla went to her worktable and gathered some herbs, pressing them into Zeru’s hand and then Cassia’s. “For healing,” she said.

The sting lessened almost instantly.

“Now what?” Zeru asked, casting the herbs aside.

Selkolla pulled something from inside her robes and held it up. Dangling from a finely wrought gold chain was a flat metal disc inlaid with precious stones. “An amulet. An artifact of the Ancients I have held in my keeping for a very long time.”

Zeru stepped forward to examine the disc. The Seer hesitated briefly before placing it in his hand. “It is yours now. Wear it.”

He placed the amulet around his neck, his eyes thoughtful as he let it fall into place below his collarbone. “What do I do with it?”

“Think of the amulet as the lock,” Selkolla said, gesturing to where it rested over his leathern breastplate, “and the Solis Gemma as the key.”

The Dracu and the Sylvan looked at each other. Years of enmity brimmed in his eyes, and Cassia knew her expression was full of the hatred she felt for him.

“The ring.” His brusque tone raised her hackles, but her eyes were on the amulet. Up close, she could see the precious stones formed two great wings.

“Is it that difficult to figure out?” Zeru gestured to the center of the amulet, where a circular indent clearly matched the ring in size.

She was tempted to see how the stone could bruise his face. She lifted her hand and pushed the amber cabochon into the amulet’s hollow with enough force to make him grunt. There was a click as metal met stone, a flash of light, and a scent that reminded Cassia of a cool grove on a summer’s day.

She dropped her hand and turned to see tree roots appear in the air before her. They were bluish-green and transparent, as if they did not truly exist in this realm. Their ends moved like feelers, pulling apart to create a large oval—a swirling glow of warm light with a darker portion in the center.

“A doorway,” Selkolla explained.

It was the size and shape of a full-length looking glass, with glowing roots framing it. But instead of a reflection, a forest of dark green shimmered as if seen through water. Relief surged through her. If Welkincaster was in Thirstwood, she would surely be able to find her way home. The trees were loyal. They’d protect her.

But looking closer, the leaves in this forest were all green, not bloodred like many of the trees in Thirstwood. And their trunks were twisted, their lower branches barren. It wasn’t her forest at all. Suddenly, she didn’t want to step through into this other wood. It was too different. Unknown.

But Zeru had no patience for her hesitation. “Go,” he barked, the threat implicit.

A strange feeling came over her as she passed through the doorway, like she’d stepped through a waterfall without getting wet. Her feet crunched on a bed of fallen branches and pine needles, her nose filling with the scents of soil and peat. She turned to look back as Zeru stepped through behind her, and the doorway dissolved in a flash of light.