The Forest King’s Daughter

27

The sharpest weapon is truth.

—G AXIX, D RACU PHILOSOPHER

E NORA AND T HEA LED C ASSIA THROUGH QUIET hallways. It was a strange experience to walk next to her sisters and have to be mindful of her wings. They didn’t seem to notice, though. Or hid it well.

“It’s so empty,” Cassia said, unnerved by the lack of activity. There were usually any number of Huntsmen and servants passing through. “Did… we lose that many—?”

“No,” Enora assured her, giving her a comforting look. “We didn’t lose anyone. Not yet. Since they attack at night, everyone tries to sleep during the day. Except for the servants and guards on duty.”

A servant passed by, coming to a full stop to stare at Cassia with wide eyes before he bustled on nervously.

Enora looked amused. “No one knows what to make of you.”

“I hardly know what to make of myself,” Cassia admitted. “How is Rozie?”

Enora’s confident stride faltered. “She’s not herself.” They reached the door to the war room, and Enora turned to face her. “None of us have been.” She took a breath. “I’m so happy to see you. But you haven’t even told us what happened.”

“I’m still not sure, exactly,” she admitted. “Selkolla tried to make me into one of her creatures, and somehow it failed.” She still didn’t know how much of her transformation was the ring turning her into a Zerian and how much was Selkolla’s spell. “I’ll tell you the rest later.”

Thea’s frown was forbidding. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not leaving you alone,” Enora said in a warning tone. “If he tries to hurt you, I’m going to defend you.”

“Don’t!” Cassia grabbed her sister’s hands, distress making her pulse race. “I don’t want you to risk yourself for me.” The consequences to Enora could be anything from losing status to losing her life. Their father was unpredictable in his punishments, as she knew better than ever.

“I don’t care.” Enora’s face reminded Cassia of a mother wolf she’d once seen protecting a cub. “This is not negotiable. I’m telling you how things are.”

Enora opened the door to the war room. “Father… someone is here with information about our enemies.”

The Sylvan king’s impatient voice rumbled through the open door. “Let him in.”

“Her,” Enora corrected, holding the door open for Cassia. “She has knowledge of the Seer and her creatures.”

Cassia entered the war room, detecting the familiar scents with a keener nose than she’d had before. She could smell the blood from the old weapons that hung on the walls and wondered if the tarnish she’d always thought was rust was perhaps something else.

Thea had given her a pair of gloves to hide the ring, but she still felt its weight on her hand as she looked at her father.

Tordon stood on the king’s left, his head coming up in surprise as Cassia entered. Tibald, who stood at the king’s right hand, was staring at a map that was laid out on the scarred oaken table between them. The king straightened to his full height, and Tibald looked up and gasped. The next second, his sword was bare, and he was rushing around the table.

“Stop!” Enora shouted. “She’s not dangerous. Tibald, put that away. She’s come to help.”

The king’s gaze moved to Cassia. She swallowed, feeling as if she were staring down her own fate. Without blinking or turning away, the king nodded subtly to Tibald, who sheathed his sword and moved back to his place.

Cassia moved to the edge of the table, her pulse beating in her throat. “The news I bring can’t wait. I doubt Selkolla has brought the full force of her power against you so far, and you need to know this now. Before she strikes.”

Tibald seemed to recover from his initial surprise, his eyes growing watchful. “Are you looking for payment in return?”

“No.” She cleared her throat. “I only want you to listen. You won’t like what I have to say, but I assure you, it’s worth hearing.”

“Don’t presume to tell us what we’ll like and not like,” Tibald said irritably, drawing himself up. “What are you, anyway, an overgrown pixie? I’ve never seen wings like yours.”

Cassia couldn’t help but smile at his typical straightforwardness. “Call me an overgrown pixie. It makes no difference to me.”

The Sylvan king spoke with his usual brusqueness. “Share your information. We have no time to waste.”

She swallowed and met her father’s eyes. Any moment, he would recognize her and order her thrown out. Or killed. And even if he didn’t, what she was about to say could also incite his wrath. But she was going to say it anyway, though her pulse beat in her temples so hard she worried they could see her fear. “Selkolla claims that you were once the Deathringer, and that you killed her moss folk.”

Aside from Enora’s gasp, the silence was so absolute, Cassia could swear she heard a spider scuttling to its web in the far corner of the war room.

“The witch isn’t to be trusted,” said the king in a scathing rumble. A fine vibration went through the floor, his outrage palpable.

“Maybe,” Cassia said, curling her hands into fists under the cover of the table to hide their shaking. She might be in a new form, but she was still scared of her father. “But Selkolla is a Sylvan. She has many sins—I don’t think dishonesty is one of them.”

“She may be a Sylvan by birth,” Tibald said, eyeing her narrowly, “but she has been twisted and warped by her unnatural magic. Who are you, anyway? How do you know the Seer of the Cryptlands?” When she didn’t answer, he turned to Enora. “What were you thinking letting a stranger in here?”

“Listen to her,” Thea said firmly.

And Thea’s word was enough, apparently, to draw all eyes to her. Cassia straightened, her hands clasping together behind her back as if she was giving a report. The weapons master was watching her too closely, the wheels turning in his head. “Long ago, Selkolla made a bargain with the Dracu queen. In return for the queen’s protection and a home in the Cryptlands, she vowed not to harm anyone under the queen’s rule.”

Tibald made a get-on-with-it gesture. “How does that benefit us?”

“Selkolla wants vengeance against the Sylvan king, but it’s possible she won’t stop there. If she successfully takes Scarhamm, she’ll have a stronghold that she can use as a base of power. And from what I’ve heard, the Dracu queen is worried. She wants Selkolla’s creatures to join in the war against the Sylvans, but she fears those same scuccas will be turned on her. That bargain is her only assurance that won’t happen.”

“A bargain sealed in blood?” the king asked, his expression showing interest.

“Yes. But the bargain needn’t apply solely to Azpians in the Cryptlands. It could apply to anyone who vows fealty to the queen.” She looked between them, letting the idea sink in.

“I still don’t see your point,” Tibald said, tapping the table absently with one finger.

Cassia took a breath and forced herself to speak the words that could get her thrown out or worse. “If the Sylvans make a temporary alliance with the Dracu…” She ignored the thunderous look on her father’s face and continued, “… they would be immune from harm from Selkolla and her scuccas.”

“That,” the king said, slowly and succinctly, “will never happen.”

Cassia barely stopped herself from calling him “Father” as she went on. “I say again, when the queen gave Selkolla sanctuary, she forced her to agree to a bargain that forbids the Seer from harming anyone under the queen’s rule. A blood bargain. Unbreakable. You can use that to your advantage. What else do you have?”

“This is clearly an attempt to trick us,” Tibald said, slapping the table. “Did Selkolla send you?”

“No,” she said. “I hate her as much as you do. I want her defeated more than anyone.”

“Not more than we do,” Tordon said, his ageless eyes solemn.

Enora stepped forward as if she wanted to say something. Cassia gave her a quick warning look. If her sisters defended her, it could make her father wonder why. And she didn’t need any more scrutiny. At her speaking look, Enora pressed her lips together.

Cassia turned back to Tordon. “We both want the witch and her scuccas gone. Selkolla’s attacks so far probably haven’t been that serious. She’s been preparing, testing the wards, toying with you. Only your wards protect you. And I hear that your Seer can barely keep them intact.”

“How do you know all this?” Tibald demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.

She ignored his question, focused on saying her piece. “The full moon is tonight. Wards will be weaker, boundaries thinner. If you don’t find a weapon against Selkolla before that, Scarhamm could fall. Tonight.” She checked her father’s reaction and saw a face carved in marble.

“Well,” Tibald said, waving a hand at her as he shook his head. “Now we see your machinations clearly enough. Oh, of course we’ll simply bow down to the Dracu queen. Should we bow to you, too? Why not! Let us all swear allegiance to our greatest enemy and a stranger we have no reason to trust.”

“I’m not lying,” Cassia said, frustration heating her skin.

“You’re not a Sylvan,” the weapons master added, “so I have no way to know that.” He turned to face the king. “My liege, say the word and I’ll get rid of this winged vermin. She doesn’t even look like a pixie, now I think of it. She could be some kind of Azpian who lives in the lowest realms.”

Thea pushed away from the wall, her tone as commanding as if she were in battle. “If she has information, it doesn’t matter where she came from.”

“She is right about one thing,” the king acknowledged, surprising everyone into silence. “If Scarhamm were under the queen’s rule, it would prevent Selkolla from killing our people.”

Cassia swallowed and watched him, waiting.

“But that alliance will never happen,” he finished, meeting her eyes. “Never while I breathe.”

“Selkolla is moving closer,” Cassia persisted, the heat of anger filling her at her father’s stubborn pride. “I heard she has spelled the very ground outside the walls, which means she has already broken the perimeter wards and is probably underground nearby. She’s clearly made it past Thirstwood’s roots. She’s been waiting for the right moment to strike.”

He didn’t argue, but the flames in his eyes told her he was reaching the limit of what he would tolerate.

She pressed on. “I know you’ve used fire on the scuccas, but that’s a temporary solution, not to mention dangerous to the trees. And we can’t assume that fire destroys the creatures. The trapped souls in the scuccas might be able to build themselves new bodies from whatever they find in Thirstwood, for all we know.”

“Then we burn the area of Thirstwood around Scarhamm,” her father said.

Cassia gasped. “And destroy our… yourselves? All your protection, your life force, your food, everything comes from the trees. Burning the forest would be embracing defeat.”

Flames rose in his eyes. “And your plan is to surrender. To submit to an enemy of centuries in the hopes of defeating the threat of the moment.”

She shook her head. “The ‘threat of the moment’ hardly describes what you’re up against. Selkolla must have been harvesting souls for years, perhaps taking fallen soldiers in the wars.” She hadn’t thought about it before, but that made sense. “And if that’s so, then everyone who falls tonight will become one of her foot soldiers. Trapped in a body of sticks and moss forever.”

“Enough,” he said, rattling the table with a blow. “I will not allow my people to swear allegiance to the Dracu queen, even temporarily.”

She kept her hands at her sides, her chin up, and her shoulders squared. “I’m asking you to look at the only option left. The scuccas are deathless and could number in the thousands. But this way, they can’t hurt you. You could cut them down and they wouldn’t be able to fight back. By their master’s own vow.”

“Then what?” Tibald gestured at the map. “Play this game of stratagem to its conclusion. We live forever as subjugates of the Dracu?”

“No,” she said. “The alliance would have clear limits. It would last only until the threat is neutralized. Say, until sunrise.”

He laughed. “And the moment the deal ends, Selkolla would return with her forces. Your plan merely delays the inevitable.”

“Not if they can all be wiped out at once.”

“There are thousands of the things,” said the weapons master. “There’s no way. Not even with your plan.”

Her fisted hands tightened until her nails dug into her palms, drawing blood. She had to convince them. This was the only way. If only she could share that she was willing to help them with the use of her ring. But her father had made that impossible.

“There’s another possibility.” She took a breath, preparing to expose the next ludicrous phase of her plan. “If you agree to the alliance, I think I can get the Dracu queen’s army to fight side by side with you. And Selkolla’s vow already protects the Azpians. If her vow applies in Scarhamm, you’d essentially have invulnerable soldiers fighting side by side with you to defend Scarhamm.”

“Who are you?” Tibald asked again.

But his question was lost as the king spoke. “Dracu within my walls?” His lips drew back from his teeth. “Never.”

“Not even to save your own people?” she asked, her voice rising with anger.

“You have wasted my time.” The Sylvan king looked at Enora. “Get her out of here.”

Cassia stared at her father, knowing this might be the last time she saw him. She could live with that. But she couldn’t live with his pride dooming all the people she loved. “If you let this opportunity pass,” she said with all the scathing condemnation she felt, “at least you won’t live long enough to regret it.” And with as much dignity as she could muster, she moved to the door. Enora stood in the doorway, pale and silent. Thea wore a furious expression. Cassia gave them a quick head shake to remind them not to defend her. That would only draw more attention and put them all in danger. But as she stepped through the door, a sharp command stopped her.

“Hold.”

A single word. An order. Cassia froze. The crackling fire made the only noise in the fraught hush. She turned back to face her father.

“If the queen makes a vow first,” the king said with bruising force, “if she swears not to harm any Sylvan or any forest creature under my rule, and to leave Scarhamm at the next rise of the sun, I will consider.”

Cassia nodded once. As she turned away, she saw her own shock reflected on her sisters’ faces.

She had survived stage one.

As they left the war room, Enora said, “I will never get over what happened in there. Are you sure you’re not a spell caster of some kind?”

Cassia chuckled. “If there was magic used in there, it wasn’t mine.” She stopped her sister before she could take the stairway leading up to their bedchambers. “No time, Enna. I have to go.”

Enora grabbed her hand. “You can’t leave without seeing Rozie. She would kill me. Or her whining about it would make me wish for death.”

Cassia smiled. “Then bring her to Veleda’s workroom. I have one last thing I need to do while I’m here. You can all help me.”

“Veleda’s probably not there,” Enora said with a frown. “She’s been at the walls almost constantly, reinforcing the wards.”

“I don’t need Veleda. Just her supplies.”

Minutes later, Cassia was in the Seer’s dim workroom being squeezed to death by skinny arms, a cloud of ginger hair tickling her chin.

“I missed you I missed you I missed you,” Rozie chanted, finally raising her head, her eyes large and pleading. “Also, the cat peed on your bed while you were gone so I threw the quilt on the rubbish heap because I didn’t want anyone to know.”

Cassia found herself grinning wider than she had in a long time. “I’m not worried about it, Sproutling.” She stepped back and gestured around the room. “But if you want to make it up to me, I could use your help. Actually, you can all help me search.”

Thea leaned against one wall, her expression one of interest. “What for, exactly? Do you need spell ingredients?”

“No. I need you to turn me into an Azpian.”

Thea shook her head wryly. “Already bored with this look?”

Cassia laughed. “Not exactly.”

Rozie looked intrigued. “Like a Skratti or something?”

“Like anything that might get me through the Cryptlands without them knowing I’m a Sylvan.” Cassia surveyed the possibilities: feathers, bones, herbs, animal horns, twine, bottles of unnamed substances. Surely some of this would work. “Tibald thought I was an overgrown pixie. Maybe you can turn me into an overgrown imp.”

“Their wings are different,” Thea pointed out. “Dark and… batty.”

Cassia shrugged. “Then cover my wings with something. I don’t care. Just make me look like something that crawled out of a lower realm.”

“We can do better than that,” Thea said, looking unimpressed with the contents of the room. “I have a dress I can give you. I was saving it for a revel, if we ever have one again, but… I think it’ll be perfect.”

While Thea went to retrieve the dress, Enora brought a bucket of warm water, and Cassia did her best to clean up. She wished she had time for a full bath, but she was aware of Zeru waiting for her in the woods. If he grew impatient enough, she wouldn’t put it past him to try to sneak into Scarhamm again. And it wouldn’t be so easy this time.

“No more excuses, Cass,” Enora said once Thea had returned and Cassia put on the dress, her soft gray eyes serious and worried. “Tell us everything, quickly if you must.”

Cassia sighed, turning so Thea could lace up the back. “As I said in the war room, Selkolla blames our father for the death of her moss folk.” She hesitated. “She claims he was the Deathringer of old and killed innocent forest creatures in the Ancient Wars.”

After a stunned pause, Enora said, “No way to know if that’s true, but if the Seer believes it, she has every reason to want revenge.”

Cassia turned around as Thea finished fussing with the dress. “Selkolla has been planning this for a long time. She’s making more and more of those stick things, the fake moss children. She thinks my ring will resurrect them for real.” She took a steadying breath, her hands curled into fists as she related the rest. “She tried to kill me and bring me back as her creature so she could have control of the ring. But instead of transforming me into one of her obedient puppets, well… I think the ring protected me. Made me into something else that she couldn’t quite control.”

“I’ll kill her,” Thea said, her eyes burning with fury.

“Not if I get to her first,” Enora said, her cold anger somehow more chilling. “I don’t care if she’s an Ancient herself.”

“I’ll help,” Rozie said, her expression fierce.

Cassia’s eyes misted at the way her sisters swore revenge. Pretty much an expression of love in her family. “Anyway,” she went on as Rozie brought a jar of some dark substance and began painting it on her wings, “the Seer cast a spell to make me lose my memory, and that’s why I was gone so long.” She bit her lip. “I hid in the woods for days. I didn’t even remember who I was, let alone… you. I forgot my own sisters.”

“Not your fault,” Thea said simply, gathering a handful of small bones. Cassia wondered what she planned to do with them. “How did you end up remembering?”

“Um.” Cassia glanced down at the floor as if some extra courage was lying there somewhere. “Zeru came to find me. He helped me remember.”

The room went silent.

“Isn’t that the name of the Dracu?” Thea asked, her eyes narrowed to slits. “The one who abducted you?”

Cassia squinted. “It’s complicated.”

“Oh, Cass,” Enora said, her face drawn with rueful sympathy. “Do not tell me you have feelings for your captor.”

“No! Not at the time anyway. I hated him. But he had… another form. How can I even explain?” She spread her hands helplessly. “We need more time. And we don’t have it. I’ll tell you later. For now, please help me get ready.”

“But I want to hear more,” Rozie said, her chin in her hands. “How did the Dracu help you remember?”

As Cassia blushed, Enora seemed horrified but took pity on her. “Enough about that. We have an Azpian to create. Cass, tell us why you’re doing this.”

As her sisters embellished her disguise, Cassia told them her plan. They listened in silence, though she caught them exchanging significant looks. When she was finished, Enora merely said, “Dangerous. Is there a remote possibility I could talk you out of this?”

“It’s the only way we have a chance,” Cassia said. “Trust me. Please.”

Thea nodded. “Of course we trust you.” And to her relief, left it at that.

“Ooh!” Rozie cried, her eyes rounding. “I see eyeballs in a jar! Can I put extra eyeballs on you?”

Cassia laughed. “If you can find a way to attach them.”

A few minutes later, Enora finished smoothing Cassia’s hair with a final stroke of a boar-bristle brush. “You know, Cass, all those times I helped you get ready for revels when you were little, I never quite envisioned this.”

“Well?” she prompted, spreading her arms and turning in a circle. “Am I hideous?”

“Awful,” Thea said, “but also kind of stunning. You fill out my dress better than I do. We’ll have to be careful how we get you out of here because the guards are going to be terrified when they see you.”

“ I’m terrified,” said Enora, grimacing. “I hope this disguise actually works.”

“You look amazing!” Rozie breathed, her eyes shining with admiration. “Promise you’ll come home, Cass.”

Cassia swallowed at the worry in her sister’s eyes. “I’ll do everything I can to come back in one piece. I promise.”