20
A Dracu, once dispatched, is best forgotten.
—E XCHARIAS, S YLVAN POET
M INUTES LATER, C ASSIA TOOK A DEEP brEATH , willing her nerves to settle. She stood tall, head up, the center of attention among a group of Huntsmen, and around them, their assembled guests filling every corner of the garden. They lolled on the edges of the fountain, sat atop shrubs, and stood on the bases of statues. The Huntsmen were somber. They’d seen her fail before and knew how much their success depended on this. By contrast, the forest-dweller guests watched with festive anticipation, as if they were there for the spectacle alone. Maybe they didn’t realize the Sylvan king’s daughter could decide the outcome of the next attack.
Cassia was excruciatingly aware of her father’s expectant regard. He stood head and shoulders above everyone else, his dark stare watchful. Closing her eyes, she took a breath.
Solis help me , she prayed. Don’t let me fail this time.
She thought of sunlight, water, the seeking of roots, the pulse of nutrients through veins in leaves, the sprouting of seeds, anything that made her feel powerful and alive. But then her mind drifted to the image of Zeru’s green eyes, their verdant color and the frenetic, restless life behind them, which he seemed barely able to contain. Strangely, the ring glowed brighter. So instead of tearing her thoughts away, she thought of dancing with him, the feel of his arms around her, his breath warm on her neck. She thought of him risking his life by entering the Sylvan stronghold to warn her about a threat. To insist they had a bond that was not broken by time or distance or the cut of a blade.
The ring glowed as emotion built in her chest, feeling upon feeling, wave upon wave until she felt like an overfilled container. She opened her eyes, preparing to set the light free. As she was about to let go, she spotted Rozie sitting atop a statue. No doubt she’d scrambled up to get a prime view. Her copper hair was wild, her grin wide. She lifted a hand to wave, lost her balance, and nearly toppled. In an ungainly scramble, she saved herself at the last moment. While Cassia breathed a sigh of relief, Rozie gave her a wide-eyed look as if to say, “Wouldn’t that have been embarrassing?” Cassia grinned as amusement bubbled up, overflowing her internal well.
The Solis Gemma set the magic free.
Her gasp was lost in shouts of surprise. The pain in her chest was minimal. Opening her eyes, she found her sight already returning, though it took a second to realize it. What she saw made her jaw drop. Scarhamm’s gardens were lit with the radiance of a thousand lamps, brighter than a cloudless day. The forest-dwellers squinted or shielded their eyes, some of them shrieking in delight or terror. The pulsing glow extended even over the walls, painting the treetops of Thirstwood. Cassia wondered whether Zeru had seen it. Then again, she hoped he was underground, safe, not suddenly visible in the brightness she had created.
As the light faded and night slipped back over Scarhamm like the drawing of heavy curtains, the forest-dwellers laughed, some of them taking up a spontaneous dance in celebration. Her breath locked in her throat, Cassia looked up at her father.
What she saw etched on the harsh lines of his face stunned her. Pride. Unmistakable pride.
In his deep rumble of a voice, he said, “Good.”
And dipped his chin to her.
Frozen by shock, she managed a single nod, her mind reeling with the magnitude of this moment.
The blast was everything she could have hoped for.
She was, finally, finally, enough.
Good.
The word rang in her ears as she made her way to the war room.
After so many years of hope and failure, it was almost more than Cassia could bear. Elation and relief fizzed through her veins like strong wine or the sparkle of sunlight on water. She felt as if she were walking on a cloud. She almost laughed at the thought that she had actually walked on a cloud. And that had led her here, to this glorious place of finally being enough.
Enora came to walk beside her, speaking softly so only she could hear. “Are you all right, Cass?”
Cassia grinned. “Never better.”
Her eldest sister looked at her skeptically. “You pulled off that incredible display, and all you got was a ‘good’?”
A little of the effervescence left her. Enora wouldn’t understand. She had always had their father’s approval. But this had been the first time Cassia had seen it. Directed at her . “It’s more than enough for me.”
Enora shook her head. “Our father doesn’t know how to give a compliment.”
As they reached the war room, Cassia took a moment to look around. The room was still large, shadowy, with weapons on the walls and the long, scarred oaken table running down the center. But it appeared darker and grimmer to her eyes. She longed for windows. She missed the cheery brightness of Welkincaster.
Frustrated with herself for wanting what she couldn’t have right when she was on the cusp of becoming everything she’d always longed to be, she stood arrow-straight as the king took his spot at the head of the table, glad he couldn’t see her ungrateful thoughts. His antlers were lit by the flames from the fireplace behind him, his eyes serious as he regarded the small assemblage of Huntsmen. To his right stood his First Huntsman, Alof. Then Burke, who watched Cassia with an avid expression. Next to him was Tibald, and then Tordon, the Third Huntsman. On the Sylvan king’s left, Enora, then Thea, who gave her a wink. Cassia didn’t respond, not wanting to do anything that would jeopardize her father’s approval.
“Cassia,” he said, gesturing with one of his massive hands. “Your place is here.” He indicated the spot where… where Enora stood next to him. Her eldest sister’s expression registered shock before she inclined her head obediently and shifted closer to Thea.
Cassia couldn’t breathe, completely thrown off balance. Her pulse beat in her temples and her throat felt tight. Take Enora’s place? Was it a temporary or a permanent change? She glanced at Enora’s face as she moved farther down the table, her stomach twisting. She hadn’t wanted to supplant anyone. She’d never imagined trying to compete with or outdo her eldest sister.
But you didn’t say no to the king. Her palms damp, Cassia moved to the now-empty place and tried not to look as out of place as she felt.
“Alof,” the king said with a brief nod.
The First Huntsman didn’t waste time. “We’ve scouted the area. There is little sign of activity. But we don’t know how many Dracu could be guarding the entrance on the inside.”
“We believe their presence is minimal,” Burke said as he unfurled a map and held it open with both hands. He turned a look on Cassia. “We’ll need the Deathringer to be near the front as we enter the Cryptlands in case we need to make use of the ring.”
Enter the Cryptlands? Cassia looked to her father, hoping for an explanation.
“You are to use the ring for protection of our forces only,” her father said, his usual sternness offset by a new respect in his voice. “If possible, save your energy for the night of the Dracu attack.”
More confused still, she fought not to quail under his iron gaze. Though his manner wasn’t harsh, it made her feel small looking up at him. “Aren’t we planning for the Dracu attack we expect on the night of the full moon?”
“We still expect that to happen,” he said, determination burning in his dark eyes. “But tomorrow, we carry out our own strike against the Dracu.”
Blood rushed in Cassia’s ears, and the ring seemed to pinch more tightly. She was so shocked she could form no reply. In the meantime, the First and Second Huntsmen resumed their discussion. It was clear this had been planned at length. Thea was staring down at the map showing no sign she thought this was reckless or impossible or… complete and utter nonsense.
Alof pointed to a spot on the map. “Here is our entrance point in Thirstwood. A hill with a hidden door into their tunnels.”
Her skin prickled. The thought of going back into that dark, labyrinthine place made all the muscles in her back tense. “How did you find a way in?”
“The Court Seer,” Alof said simply. “Veleda drew a map of the tunnels leading from that doorway to the nearby settlements.”
Burke must have seen Cassia’s confusion. “Veleda has been helping us plan this ever since your capture,” he explained. “Her Seeing, her use of spirits, has been vital. It was unfortunate she could find no trace of where you’d been taken by the Dracu, though as she focused her efforts on the Cryptlands, she came up with other useful information about the enemy’s lair.”
Cassia nodded, sifting through this new information. It made sense that Veleda hadn’t been able to scry her whereabouts in another realm. She wished she’d had time to talk to Veleda, but she’d been so busy reinforcing the wards, Cassia hadn’t wanted to bother her.
Waiting until Alof completed his briefing, she gathered her courage to ask, “Why are we invading?”
After a thick silence, the Sylvan king answered, his tone implacable. “A Dracu abducted my daughter. If I allow that to stand without retribution, what further insults will I have to endure?”
Unable to bear the fire in his eyes, Cassia bowed her head. Retribution? Was that what this was about? She noticed he made no mention of what insults she had endured. Or what she wanted as recompense for them. Even as she stood in Enora’s place at the table, her feelings didn’t matter to him. Was she foolish for thinking they ever would?
The conversation moved on to specifics: who would lead, who would guard the passage ensuring safe egress. Enora and Thea would be left to guard Scarhamm while a group of two dozen Huntsmen went on the mission, with more nearby in the woods. The plan was straightforward: They would enter through the hill and travel a short distance through the tunnels to a settlement. The Dracu homes there would be burned.
“Is this a civilian settlement?” Enora asked in her measured voice as she examined the map. “That is unusual.”
“This is not random,” Alof said. “The settlement is connected to the Dracu who abducted your sister.”
Cassia shivered. Zeru.
They were going after Zeru’s family.
She almost betrayed herself then. She wanted to shout that they couldn’t do this! Killing Zeru’s parents for something their son had done was wrong.
But that would destroy the newfound approval she had worked so hard to earn. And she had the feeling that if she spoke, if she said anything at all, her voice would shake, and everyone would know her secret: that she had let herself care for a Dracu.
But could she go along with this? Could she live with herself if Zeru’s parents were killed and she could have prevented it?
While she wrestled with herself in agonized silence, Thea spoke with her usual clear confidence. “We’ve never taken a force into the Cryptlands. Not only is it dark and more airless the deeper we go, it presents challenges to the movement of our troops.” She pointed to a spot on the map. “The distance between our front line and our rear guard will lengthen as the tunnels narrow to single file. Do we have a plan for this?”
“That’s precisely why it’s a small force,” Alof said. “We strike fast and get out. Veleda assures us the distance is minimal.”
“There’s also the question of the Seer Cassia encountered in the Cryptlands,” Enora added.
Alof had an answer for that, too. “Veleda will be there to counter any magical attacks.”
Cassia found her voice, remembering the vital piece of information Zeru had given her. “Selkolla had a kind of creature constructed of sticks and moss. I heard it called a scucca. I have reason to believe she’s made many more, perhaps hundreds or thousands.”
Silence fell over the table.
“Hundreds or thousands,” the king said critically. “Have you seen this for yourself?”
She held his eyes. “I… no. I’ve seen one. The Dracu mentioned more.”
“Dracu lie,” the Sylvan king reminded her, venom dripping from the words. “Or have you forgotten?”
She shook her head. To redirect his attention, she asked, “What is a scucca?”
When the Sylvan king said nothing, Tordon, the Third Huntsman, answered. He was one of the oldest Sylvans in Scarhamm, with a lined face and dark, tight curls worn short against his scalp. “Creating scuccas is an abomination of the natural order,” he said. “It requires taking life force from nature and merging it with trapped spirits. Sunlight weakens the magic.” His eyes shifted to his king. “Underground, they would be at full power.”
The king’s eyes burned with defiance. “A few hastily constructed puppets don’t concern me. Slay the mage controlling them, and they all fall at once. We have no reason to delay. Be ready to leave at dawn.”
Cassia felt a deep conviction it wouldn’t be so easy to kill Selkolla. She’d felt an aura of staggering power in the Seer’s presence. But how could she convince her father, who was so certain of his victory?
Before she could think of what to say, he’d left the room.
“Let’s get on with it, then!” Tibald said, slapping the table in his exuberant way. “Rest, Deathringer, while you can. We’ve celebrated your return. Now we put you to work!” He grinned at her good-naturedly, and she forced a smile.
Tordon’s own smile lifted his craggy face. “An impressive blast, Deathringer. Well done!”
Cassia wished she could enjoy their pride. Tibald had always believed in her, even when she’d shown no signs of ever being able to master the ring. But now that she’d finally achieved her aim, things were not going as she’d thought they would.
As everyone filed out, Cassia stopped Enora with a hand on her arm. “I’m sorry Father made me take your spot at the table. I didn’t want to.”
Enora’s face stiffened, and Cassia realized her mistake. Her sister was proud, and the apology was like rubbing salt on a fresh wound.
“You’ve earned your place,” Enora said woodenly. “Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted? Don’t back down now, Deathringer.”
Cassia bent her head, fighting tears. She had rarely been at odds with Enora, who was fair and even-tempered in the worst situations. And she hated her sister calling her by the title. She wanted Enora to call her “Cass” as she always had.
When everyone else was gone, Thea remained. She put a hand on Cassia’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “She’ll adjust. As will you. She understands it’s not your choice. We might not always want to do what our father requires, but it’s for the greater good. Don’t be so hard on yourself, Cass. You should be proud. You’ve never let us down. Not in your heart.”
“Thank you, Thea,” she said thickly, glad her sister couldn’t see the betrayal happening in her heart at that moment.
Stupid. Pointless. A fool’s errand.
Cassia berated herself as she followed the familiar paths of Thirstwood. There was no way Zeru would be nearby. There was no way she could summon him. She was not in Welkincaster. He was not, as it turned out, a spirit of the Netherwhere. And even if he were, she was not a Seer with spells to commune with the spirits, living or dead. She should be in bed resting before the planned attack. This was a waste of time.
On the other hand, Zeru was a guardian, and she was the steward of Welkincaster. He’d said they had a bond, and she could no longer deny it. No matter how foolish it made her feel, she had to try.
She had come to the unshakable conclusion that she could not live with herself if Zeru’s parents were killed. Not without at least trying to stop it.
She paced the worn paths for hours, all the places where they used to meet as children, repeating variations of the same message. “Summon Zeru. Tell Zeru to meet me in our old spot. By the power of the Solis Gemma, summon Zeru, the guardian of Welkincaster.”
At some point in the wee hours, she heard a chuckle. “I knew you liked that ring, but I never thought I’d feel jealous of it.”
She froze, the gemstone still touching her lips. Slowly, she lowered her hand. “It worked, though.”
“I don’t know if you can claim that.” Zeru’s voice came from somewhere in the boughs above.
“You’re here, aren’t you?” she pointed out, trying to locate the origin of the sound.
“I had a sudden, inexplicable urge to come here. Were you talking to yourself this whole time?”
“To you through the ring.” She refused to feel embarrassed. “And again, let me emphasize, Dracu, that it worked. You are here. Where I wanted you to be.”
A rustle of branches, then a soft thud. The shadows moved and a winged figure came into view. “You admit you want me, then? My dreams realized.”
Her heart jumped as she peered up at his shadowy form. She crossed her arms, assessing him as he halted a couple of feet away. “You still don’t have your horns.”
Zeru ran a hand through his hair. “Did you bring me here to insult me?”
“No.” She couldn’t help but smile that he saw that as a grievous insult. “But I like that you admit I invited you, and that you accepted my invitation. That’s a good start.”
His teeth flashed white in the dim light. “Start to what?” When she didn’t answer, he went on. “Reminds me of a Sylvan girl I met once in these woods. She liked to give me orders.”
Time went backward, and suddenly, Cassia was that young girl full of curiosity and determination to find her tree. Maybe some of that reckless child remained a part of her. “I need to warn you.”
“Yes?” He moved closer, his hand coming up to her hair. Her breath caught in her chest, everything suspended as she waited for him to touch her. He pulled a twig out and showed it to her before dropping it to the ground.
“Oh… thank you.” She shook her head to clear it, willing her pulse to calm. “There’s an invasion planned for tomorrow. I mean today.” It was almost morning.
“What are you talking about?” he asked, his tone growing serious.
“Your family. We’re going after them.” She didn’t want him to think she had anything to do with it. “My father found out where your family lives in the Cryptlands and plans revenge for my abduction. Today.”
Zeru was silent for a few moments, but she felt his tension like a living thing wrapped around her.
“I’m sorry,” she said, wondering if he blamed her.
“No, no, it makes sense. I should have anticipated.” His voice was rough with emotion, making him sound even more like the Aril she’d first met in the Welkinwood. Though his voice at night was rougher, he no longer sounded to her like anyone but himself. “Revenge must be taken. I merely thought your people would be too busy preparing for our attack.”
“Which you’ll be part of?” she asked, seized by a sudden tightness in her throat and chest.
“Of course.”
She closed her eyes. “So, nothing has changed. We are enemies.”
He moved close, his hands coming to her shoulders. His grip was firm and warm and reassuring. “If we were enemies, would you have come here to warn me? You are not my enemy. I’m not yours. If we’re thrown against each other by no will of our own, we’re not to blame.”
His words were cold comfort. “Who cares about blame if I have to kill you, or you me?” She swallowed, trying to calm herself as she waited for his answer. Why was she so upset, anyway? This is how it had always been. How it always would be.
“I saw your blast,” he said, his tone inscrutable. “To call it impressive is an understatement. Was the Sylvan king pleased?”
She recalled the look of pride on her father’s face, and still felt awed by it. “I think I could even say it… surprised him.”
Zeru sighed, his hold loosening. “It seems you have everything you’ve always wanted.”
“Yes. I do.”
He paused. “Does it feel as good as you thought it would?”
Something about the darkness, her fears about the raid, and the knowledge that this might be her last chance to talk to Zeru made her open up. “Everything is… different than I imagined. My father made me take Enora’s place in the war room. This invasion… feels… wrong.” She shook her head, frustrated. “I haven’t felt so unsure of myself in years. And that’s saying something.” She closed her eyes, shame warming her cheeks. “I wish I hadn’t said any of that.”
Zeru’s reply was soft and hoarse. “I’m glad you did.” His hands tightened, and for a second, she thought he might pull her closer. But he didn’t. “Thank you for the warning. I am in your debt.”
His hands slipped away. She regretted their loss instantly. “You risked your life to warn me about the scuccas. We’re even. Did you have a chance to find out anything else?”
“I was barely back in the Cryptlands when I felt your call,” he reminded her.
She smiled at his familiar grousing tone. “Like I said. It worked.”
“But I did find out a few things. It seems Selkolla came to the Cryptlands after betraying one of the Ancients during their wars. The Dracu queen didn’t want to take in a Sylvan, but Selkolla offered her powers as Seer. Apparently, even that wasn’t enough. The Dracu queen extracted a vow not to harm anyone under her rule in exchange for sanctuary. If I find out more… I don’t know how I’ll be able to tell you. Your patrols will be on full alert.”
She nodded. “You can’t come here again.”
His voice took on a grim note. “Cassia, listen. We might be pitted against each other soon, but I will not harm you.”
She felt hollow, shaky. She wished she could sleep until all this was over. “You might not have a choice.”
“I know. But I can’t hurt you. It would be like hurting myself. Worse.”
She closed her eyes, her temples aching, her throat tight. He had talked of bonds. She knew as Aril he’d become attached to her. But this was beyond what she’d suspected he felt. Was it real, though? Could this have something to do with his becoming a guardian, and she the caretaker? Maybe it was the magic at work. When she tried to examine her own feelings, confusion fogged her mind. Would she be able to hurt him if it came down to it? She knew she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to hurt him, ever.
“Why do you even have to join in the attack?” she asked, knowing the dark didn’t hide the moisture in her eyes. While she could see nothing more than silhouettes and shapes, his softly glowing green eyes could see so much more. “Go to Welkincaster now while you still have wings. Keep away from it altogether.”
“Still trying to order me around.” His light tone teased, the affection in it making Cassia’s chest ache. “I have to get my parents to safety. And I need to find out more about what Selkolla is planning. I have as much responsibility to my people as you do to yours.”
A lump had formed in her throat. She looked down at the ground, afraid of what he might see in her eyes. Regret. Worry. Need. Things she shouldn’t feel for him. She took a breath and lifted her chin. “I understand.”
He paused, and his teeth flashed. “Besides, battle is the only place I’ll get to see you.”
She knew that was supposed to draw a smile, but she couldn’t. Sadness was like iron flowing through her veins, weighing down her heart.
An owl hooted in the distance. They both looked up, tensing.
Zeru whispered, “One of your patrols is coming this way. I have to go.”
She reached out and found his hand, even in the dark. “Be safe, Zeru.”
He squeezed her hand, reassuring her with his warm, firm grip for too brief a moment. “Be safe, Cassia.”
His lips brushed her cheek before he vaulted into the air and was gone.