The Forest King’s Daughter

16

An Azpian who reaches for the sky must inevitably fall.

—E XCHARIAS, S YLVAN POET

A S SHE SPENT THE NEXT SEVERAL DAYS CONSIDERING ways she might get home, Cassia did her best to avoid Zeru. He spent most of his time in the library, no doubt searching for a way to weaken her bond with the ring. Sometimes she sensed his eyes on her when she was in the courtyard below the library window, and she would look up to see a brooding scrutiny that made her pulse jump with an instinctive sense of threat. But Gutel had assured her that only someone she trusted could be the recipient of the ring. Anyway, she was too busy honing her power to concern herself with his plans. After a few days, she could almost forget he existed.

Every day, Gutel taught her more about caring for the welkin.

Together they restored the castle and gardens, sitting in the courtyard whenever they tired. Citrus fruits began to grow in the ceramic pots, and flowers budded and bloomed in stone urns. The haze in the sky had completely disappeared, and the castle’s alabaster exterior sparkled, its windows gleaming like crystal.

And every day, she felt the power of the ring growing. She felt happier, more powerful, and more useful than she ever had in her life. Something about using the Solis Gemma to grow things felt right to her. She found herself using the lessons her mother had taught her at Scarhamm. Day by day, she grew more plants, the bushes, flowers, and shrubs reminding her of her mother’s beautiful gardens.

More animals appeared in the forest, which Gutel called the Welkinwood. Whenever Cassia went exploring, Voz followed, her keen nose working, her long ears sticking out of the underbrush as she tracked chipmunks or hares. Gutel couldn’t go into the forest, which he explained was too far from the hearth for him to remain comfortable. His boundary was the wall around the castle. The steward was responsible for the rest of Welkincaster.

Most nights, Cassia went to the clearing with the lake. Aril was always there, and they spoke more each time.

Cassia told Aril about the world as she knew it—Thirstwood, the Cryptlands, and what she’d learned about Zerians from Gutel. He was curious about everything. It was a welcome change from the dark, brooding looks of a certain Dracu. Gutel had become her ally, but he grew brusque if she didn’t immediately learn whatever he was trying to teach her. And sometimes he was grumpy simply because he was Gutel.

Aril was… well… kind. And there was something about him that made him feel separate from the rest of her life. He was hers alone. He asked questions and actually listened to her answers. She couldn’t remember the last time someone hadn’t interrupted her or talked over her because she was quieter than her sisters. Aril cared what she thought and admired the things she created. And she could tell she had begun to mean something to him, too.

She didn’t want to admit to herself how much she would miss him when she left the welkin and returned to her life of training, battles, and being the Deathringer her father always wanted.

It was also getting harder to imagine life without Voz. Gutel had said that spirits would come and go as needed, but Voz stayed. She followed Cassia everywhere, happily exploring the renewed forest, even flying in through her open bedchamber window at night to sleep on the edge of her bed. The creature had a sense of when Cassia was using too much power. When she overdid it, she’d often feel the nudge of a cold, wet nose on her arm. Maybe that was why Voz stuck around: to protect her from herself. She wished there was some way to keep the spirit with her when she went home.

One night, as she sat with Aril by the lake, she was watching the white tip of Voz’s tail as she hunted at the edge of the clearing and realized the lake was showing her a reflection of a waxing crescent moon… which meant she had lost track of the days. She’d been so busy, her life on the welkin so full, that the time had flown—more than a fortnight gone! She had to get home before the full moon and another Dracu attack.

Her stomach twisted with guilt. How could she have been so selfish? She needed a way home. Zeru’s amulet wasn’t a viable option. He no longer wore it, probably worried she would try to steal it. She assumed he kept it locked in his bedchamber, which was in one of the other towers, but she hadn’t found a way past his locked door.

If she couldn’t get the amulet, she needed another way home. She looked over at Aril, his face a barely visible shape against the night. He had taken her flying a few more times, but he had never gone past the edges of the welkin.

“Want to fly?” she asked. It was a calm night, perfect for flight. “Maybe you could take me beyond the edge of the cloud this time?”

“It’s not safe,” he said immediately, his tone sharper than usual.

“We’ll be careful. I want to see what’s below.” If she could get a glimpse of some landmark, perhaps the glint of moonlight on the Scar River, she might get an idea where they were.

He blew out a breath. “A short distance only.”

She nodded, hopping to her feet and smiling. She caught the flash of his smile in the dark, as if he were amused by her excitement.

His arms stayed tight around her as they crossed the foamy edges of the floating island. Light from the waxing moon made ghosts of the clouds, their wispy forms as insubstantial as memories. From above, the castle looked like a pale confection dusted in sugar, the golden roofs of its spires iced silver by moonlight. A candle flickered in the library window. Gutel always retired early to his hearth, so it had to be Zeru reading late into the night. Cassia smiled at the evidence that he hadn’t yet found a way to take her ring.

Her elation lasted precisely until Aril left the welkin behind and she saw black sky beneath her. Her stomach swooped as fear gripped her.

“You’re scared,” Aril said, a note of concern in his soft, rough voice.

Her back was pressed to his chest, so she couldn’t hide the fact that her pulse was wild with terror.

“Going back,” he said.

“No, please!” She wanted a glimpse of the land below. “A little farther.”

But he was already flying in a wide arc that led them back over the Welkinwood. As they descended, she had to bite her tongue to keep from snapping at him. His protectiveness was no doubt part of his role as guardian of Welkincaster. She told herself it wasn’t his fault, but it was difficult not to order him back into the air. She was sure he would comply if she insisted. But he was so kind to her, she hated the idea of ordering him to do something he didn’t want to do.

They landed in the clearing. Cassia brushed off her clothing and took a breath. “Thank you, Aril. Good night.”

“You’re angry.” A note of hurt deepened his voice.

She wanted to deny it but couldn’t. “I wish you didn’t worry so much about me.”

“Why?” he asked, his tone stiff. “I’m a guardian of this place. You told me that. You are part of this place, so I also protect you. What is wrong in that?”

Tears sprang to her eyes, though she fought them. “What I need to be safe is to see the land below.” She hated this, but finding a way home was more important. “I needed more time.”

“Why?”

She looked up into his face, wishing she could see him more clearly in the dark. Perhaps when the moon was full… but by then, she would be gone. The thought made her more irritable.

“What’s wrong?” Aril asked. “Is the Dracu being unkind? The kobold expecting too much of you?”

Cassia grimaced. Maybe she shouldn’t have complained to Aril. “No, nothing like that.” But the mention of Gutel added to her guilt over the possibility—no, the certainty—that her departure would hurt him. Which was ridiculous. What did the hearth-spirit matter? He was no more than an Azpian ghost, given form and life only here in this place filled with the impossible. Nothing here could exist in the world below. Which meant none of it was real. Including Aril.

“I’m sorry, Aril, I have to go,” she said, turning toward the castle before she could break down in front of him. She had walked this way so many times, it had become a clear path with mushrooms and flowers lining the edges. Thanks to the ring… which she would soon take with her, leaving the welkin to decay once again. She hunched her shoulders against the guilt. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“Cassia,” said Aril.

She stopped but didn’t turn.

His hand came to rest on her shoulder. “You’re in pain,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

She reached up to pat his hand, hoping he couldn’t hear the tears clogging her throat. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

“But I do.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. This was what she’d feared. He was becoming too attached to her. “Don’t worry about me, Aril. Please. Find your own way.”

“You want to leave here,” he said. “Don’t you?”

Why did he have to be so perceptive? “I’m going to the castle to sleep.”

He made a sound of frustration in his throat. “I mean you’re planning to leave the welkin.”

Her heart twisted, pulling strings tight in her chest. The time for prevarication was over. “Yes, Aril.” She forced herself to turn to face him. He deserved her honesty. “And you’re going to help me.”

He put his hands to her cheeks, his rough voice soft and soothing. “I won’t. Tell me what’s wrong, and I’ll fix it.”

She released a shaky breath, agonized by his tenderness toward her. “You can’t fix what’s wrong. There’s only one thing you can do to help me, Aril. And that’s to fly me home.”

He pulled in a shocked breath, his hands falling from her face as he took a step back. “No.”

Her lip trembled, but she took a breath and squared her shoulders. “Please, Aril. My family needs me. I… I wouldn’t ask this of you if there were any other way.”

He closed his eyes for a minute. Finally, he opened them with a sigh. “I can’t refuse you.”

Relief coursed through her. She reached out and gripped his arm. “Thank you.”

He looked down at her hand, placing his own over hers. “When?”

“Tomorrow night.” She made the decision at that moment, knowing it was right, not only because she’d been away from her sisters too long and worried almost constantly about them. To stay any longer would be unfair to Aril. And to herself. She had no energy for the internal battle she was fighting. She had to save her strength for the battles in the real world below.

As she let her hand fall, she looked up at him. His eyes glittered as they shifted in thought. “You’ll come back.”

The pain in her chest grew until she pressed a hand there to ease it. She doubted she’d return. For one thing, she didn’t have the amulet to create the doorway. “Maybe.”

His voice dropped lower, but the force of will behind the words was as clear as an order. “You will come back.”

She reached up and put her palms on either side of his face, feeling the new growth of facial hair. “I wish you could remember who you are,” she said. “You feel lost because you don’t know. You think you need me. But you don’t.”

His eyes closed as his palms came to rest over the backs of her hands. “If I remember, will you stay?”

Her chest ached as if a thorn were stuck somewhere deep inside. She had left herself too open to him. Vulnerable when she had to be strong. She forced herself to pull her hands from his face, tugging when he held on. “Let me go, Aril. You said you don’t belong here. Neither do I.”

“You’re happy here,” he said, a hard note entering his voice, though he released her hands. “Happier than when you talk about your home.”

She had no answer for that, so she shook her head.

He stared at her, his shoulders rising and falling in agitation.

She almost stepped toward him. Almost took his hand. But she had no words of reassurance. And she could not afford to let her resolve weaken. “Tomorrow, Aril. You agreed.”

He inclined his head formally. Something about the movement made her stomach twist. She wanted to change her mind and stay. But before she could weaken, with a leap, Aril shot toward the sky, opening his wings once he’d cleared the canopy.

She looked down at the ring and saw that it pulsed. Her chest hurt, but she didn’t know if it was the magic that pained her or her own weak heart.