The Forest King’s Daughter

33

Never trust a Dracu, but especially never trust their queen.

—E XCHARIAS, S YLVAN POET

A FTER THE DARKNESS UNDERGROUND, THE brIGHT moonlight above Welkincaster was blinding. Zeru still lay on his back, Cassia half on top of him, his wings crushed beneath. But now they were in the courtyard where citrus trees grew in clay pots all around. A few were broken, the shards littering the flagstones.

“What in the nine realms of the Netherwhere are you doing?” a voice shrieked. “You broke two… no three… of my pots!”

Cassia put her face against Zeru’s chest, tears streaming from her eyes. “Gutel! We need help!”

Gutel rushed forward, his hands coming to Zeru’s neck. “He’s alive. He’s alive, but just barely. I don’t know… Give him some of your power. Do you have any left?”

Though her heart ached as if it were tearing itself in two, Cassia nodded. Breathing shakily, she sent Zeru everything she could summon from herself. Her own strength was waning, but the ring was more powerful on Welkincaster. If the magic of the Ancients lent her strength, and she gave him everything she had, maybe it would be enough.

When his pulse continued to slow. She gave him more. More.

The power was leaving her body, her life force rushing away. Her eyelids grew heavy. Her pulse slowed. But Zeru’s life meant more to her than anyone’s, and she would do what she must to save it. “Live,” she whispered, her eyes falling shut.

For a time, she floated, flying through a dream. She saw a door made of light, like the one to Welkincaster but brighter. Was it a dream or another place where spirits roamed? She realized she was being given a choice. Much like the choice she had given to the spirits, she could stay or go.

“Sylvan, Sylvan,” she heard a voice call from very far away. “Come back. Please come back.”

Cassia made her choice. Pain returned to her body as she battled the distance, fighting her way back to him. When she finally managed to open her eyes, Zeru was propped against the wall, crushing her to him, stark fear in his eyes as he stared down at her.

She threw her arms around him and felt his shuddering chuckle. “I thought you were dead,” she accused.

“I was worried about you ,” Zeru said hoarsely. “Worried you gave me too much.” But then he smiled so wide, it made her head spin. Cassia turned her body toward him, burrowing into him like a small animal seeking shelter. His face was pale, his eyes standing out even brighter than usual, and his skin was covered with dirt and blood. But he was alive.

She wanted to devour him.

But Gutel would not be ignored. “What happened? It seems you’ve both been in a great deal of trouble, and I want to know everything.”

As they gave a brief version of events, the kobold looked increasingly horrified.

“You should have said something,” Gutel chastised, pacing in front of them while rubbing his forehead, putting creases in his green hat. “You should have yelled, ‘ Help! ’ as you arrived. I had no idea what you’d been through. The Seer, her creatures.” He shook his head. “I guess I don’t mind a few broken pots. Are you back to stay?”

She shook her head, the movement making her dizzy. “I have to go to Scarhamm to make sure everyone is safe. Zeru can stay here to recover.”

“No,” Zeru said, his dark eyebrows gathering like thunderclouds. “If there’s any chance the queen is testing the boundaries of her vow, I want to be there to reason with her.”

Cassia grimaced. “I’m worried, too.”

Thoughts fled as her eyes caught a pointy copper-brown muzzle poking through the arched door in the wall, followed by a pair of golden eyes and large brown ears that twitched. Cassia’s lips parted, her breath catching. It couldn’t be. It had to be a different Vozarra. She was a fool to hope.

“Oh, right, your Vozarra showed up a few days ago,” Gutel said absently. “I think it’s that one you call Voz, though I told you not to name it.” He shook his head. “It came back in rough shape, even for a spirit. I’ve been nursing it back to health.”

Pushing up onto her knees, Cassia threw her arms around the kobold, making him squeak in protest. “Thank you, Gutel. Oh, Magnificent Hearth-Spirit, Generous Fixer of the Broken, Great Healer of Modest Proportions…” She took a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, I’m not very good at this, but I’ll give you a hundred titles, I promise.”

“What… what…” Gutel’s arms flailed. “Unhand me, Sylvan! Zerian! Lady! Don’t make me do violence against a steward. I can’t breathe!”

“I’m sorry.” Cassia wiped her eyes and pulled back, turning her head to the side to catch another glimpse of the winged fox. “Oh, Voz, you are beautiful. The most beautiful creature in the world.”

“Hey,” Zeru said, amused and annoyed at once.

Cassia grinned at him. “Second most.”

“I do like ‘Magnificent,’” Gutel said, dusting off his green jacket. “We’ll work on the rest.”

“How?” She turned shining eyes on him as Voz approached, butting her soft, furry head into Cassia’s hand, making tears spring to her eyes. “How did she come to be here? I watched her die.”

Gutel wrinkled his nose, removing his hat and scratching his head. “She may never be able to materialize in the living world again,” he said. “But this is a place of spirits. Welkincaster has its own rules. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”

Overcome by relief, Cassia grabbed Voz around her torso, careful of her wings, holding on until the fox sent her a clear thought: Let me go . She laughed and released the Vozarra. “Fine, fine, no one wants me to maul them, I guess.”

Zeru cleared his throat. “At your service. I just need a few minutes to recover. It feels like I was struck by lightning.”

Cassia sat back so she could look at him. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“Can’t you?” He lifted a brow. “I knew the amulet would absorb some of the blast.”

“But did you realize it would be too much and you’d get hit with the rest?”

She bit her lip. “You shouldn’t have risked your life for me.”

“I’m a guardian. You’re the steward. There was no question.”

“Is that why you did it?” she asked.

He looked away for a minute, and she realized he wasn’t going to answer. Maybe he saw her disappointment. His fingers came to her chin, lifting her face. His eyes were sun-warmed emeralds as he said, “I heard you say you always find me.”

She swallowed. “I wasn’t lying.”

Gutel jammed his hat back on his head, looking like a grumpy green toadstool. “Well, this has been enough excitement. I’m going to find myself some cider and watch the sun rise.”

Cassia sucked in a breath. “Sunrise. We need to get back to make sure the queen leaves Scarhamm as promised.”

Zeru grasped her chin. “First things first.” He bent his head and kissed her hard, a bruising brand that said things without words.

When they stepped from the portal near the gates of Scarhamm, it was clear the Dracu queen had been busy. Dracu soldiers manned the battlements and guarded the gates.

Not a Sylvan in view.

“Exactly as I feared,” Zeru muttered grimly. The sun hadn’t yet risen, so the Sylvans were still pledged to the Dracu queen. Apparently, she was enjoying her sovereignty while it lasted.

“My sisters,” Cassia said, agitated almost to panic.

“Don’t worry, we’ll reason with her,” Zeru said, but that didn’t calm her fears.

They found the Dracu queen holding court from her perch on the Sylvan king’s throne, her feet dangling off the edge as she spoke to her ministers.

Veleda sat in the Court Seer’s seat, a place she generally avoided. Cassia looked at her with a questioning glance, but she merely shook her head slightly as if to say, not now . Whatever the reason, Cassia was sure the Court Seer had been given no choice in the matter.

Zeru elbowed his way to the front of the throng, pulling Cassia with him. “You seem in good humor, my queen. Do you not care to find out the fate of Selkolla? She is dead. Thanks to the Sylvan king’s daughter.”

The queen’s eyes showed relief that turned quickly to anger. “You lied to me. You told me the girl was from the lower realms. You, disloyal wretch, brought the Sylvan king’s daughter into my throne room. I should order you hanged.”

Zeru inclined his head as if in admission. “I’m sorry for the deception, my queen. I needed her to help me secure the alliance that allowed us to prevail over Selkolla. I should have trusted you with the truth.”

“Yes, you should have.” After a moment of murderous glaring, her eyes glittered with mirth. “But if you’d done that, I might have gutted her, and she wouldn’t have been able to use the Solis Gemma to kill the traitorous Seer.” She motioned to his wings, a slight wrinkle on her brow. “Is this some trend brought up from the lower realms?”

Zeru rolled his shoulders. “They’re… new.” He ignored the chortle of one of the courtiers. “I’ll explain all, my queen. First, we need to know where you’ve put the Sylvan king’s daughters.”

“All I require is the return of the Solis Gemma,” the Dracu queen demanded, her eyes fixed on Cassia. “You have used it to kill my people. If you have used it to save us as well, I will take that into consideration. The Sylvans and Dracu were able to ally for one night. Perhaps a longer peace will follow. But only if you return the ring immediately. I cannot have this weapon in Sylvan hands.”

In the tense pause that followed, Cassia’s heart seemed to shrink in her chest. She wanted peace above all things. But the ring was part of her. She turned to Zeru and thought he understood what she was silently asking. Do you want me to give you the ring? She was certain she could. They had a bond. She trusted him. More than that, she thought he would be a good steward to Welkincaster. He deserved the ring.

But Zeru shook his head, a ferocious certainty in his expression as he stepped in front of her. “The Solis Gemma has bonded with the Sylvan King’s daughter. It can’t be removed. It belongs to Cassia for life.”

As the queen’s nostrils flared, Veleda spoke, reminding Cassia that she had been silently following all this. “Queen Nienke, I don’t believe Cassia will use it to harm your people ever again. I know you have little reason to trust the Court Seer of Scarhamm, but I’m truthful and I’m rarely wrong.” Her eyes met Cassia’s. “At least, not about people.”

Everyone seemed to be holding their breath, waiting for the queen to fly into a temper. Denying her did not seem like something that was done lightly. But after a long look at Veleda, the queen shifted her small frame on the massive throne. “Perhaps some agreement could be made.” Gasps among the courtiers drew a hard stare from their ruler. “Selkolla prophesied the ring’s importance to my people, and look where trusting her led? I could never wear it, anyway. Ugly old thing.”

Cassia gaped at the queen. She had started a war over the ring, and now she acted like it didn’t matter? But maybe this was face-saving. And maybe there were other parts of the prophecy that made it easier for the queen to accept this outcome. Perhaps she would never know. She inclined her head to the queen. “All I want is for both of our peoples to be safe.”

“Will you swear an oath not to use the ring against my people?” the Dracu queen asked, suddenly deadly serious.

“I won’t swear to anything until I see what happens next. But I have no wish for war. I have no desire to be Deathringer unless I have to be.” Though she was barely holding on to her temper. “Where are my sisters?”

After a long pause, the queen seemed to accept her refusal, giving a light shrug. “Here and there.”

“And my father?” she asked.

That drew a satisfied smile. “Generally unharmed.”

Cassia’s felt an urge to wipe off that smug smile with a blast of light. “It’s almost dawn. Release them.”

“Perhaps you would like a bath,” the queen offered. “You seem to have a fair bit of blood splatter about you.” She made a circular motion that encompassed both of them, then turned to one of her waiting women. “Onyx, have a bath drawn for my lieutenant. The Sylvan surely wishes to bathe in the river. Or in a blooming lily filled with morning dew.”

Zeru made an angry noise, but Cassia shook her head at him. “I’m going to find my sisters,” she said, her hands curled into fists. “I assume you locked them in the dungeon?”

The queen put a hand to her chest. “What kind of heartless ruler do you think I am? They’re in the stables.”

Cassia gave one last look at Zeru, her stomach twisting, not knowing when she might see him next. “I have things to sort out here that might… take some time. Will you… would you be able to help your people find their way out of Scarhamm?”

In a heartbeat, Zeru’s demeanor changed. His back straightened, his chin came up, and his eyes took on a glittering quality that made Cassia feel sick. He’d clearly taken her words as a dismissal. No , she wanted to say. It’s not like that! But the queen was watching them with avid curiosity and Cassia was aware of Zeru’s enemies in the court. She didn’t know how he’d be treated if they knew about his attachment to a Sylvan. If he even wanted anyone to know.

“I will do my best, daughter of Silvanus.” He offered her a graceful bow.

“Thank you,” she said, his formality making her chest tighten. “And thank you for… your help.” She put her feelings into her eyes, hoping he could see.

But he’d turned his head to the side, a muscle jumping in his cheek. “It was my great honor to assist you. I wish you good fortune in… whatever future you have planned.”

Her lip trembled, and she knew if she stayed any longer, she would cry. “Goodbye, Zeru.”

She turned to the queen, lifting her chin and reminding herself this was her home.

“I’d like to go with her,” Veleda said.

After a moment, the queen flapped a hand. “Very well. I’ve had ill luck with Sylvan Seers.”

As Veleda fell into step beside her, Cassia turned back for one last look at Zeru and caught him watching her, a look of longing in his eyes that made her want to clutch her chest. She forced herself to turn away. Veleda said nothing as they turned into the quiet halls of Scarhamm.

It wasn’t until they reached the open air that Cassia found her voice. “I have so many questions, I don’t know where to start.”

Veleda’s steps slowed. “Since when have you hesitated to ask me for anything?”

“That was before,” Cassia said, realizing she had never known Veleda as well as she’d thought. “Why did you first come here? To Scarhamm?”

“Among the forest folk, doesn’t every Seer aspire to a place next to the Sylvan king’s throne?”

Cassia shook her head. “That’s not an answer.”

“No,” Veleda admitted. “It’s not.” She came to a halt. They were about halfway across the training yard, where flowering shrubs had started to grow along its edges. The Seer looked around at the plants and pointed. “See that rosebush? Its thorns and flowers? Roses might seem strong,” she continued, “but they need tending to thrive. They can get a blight. They can be over trimmed and die. A plant might grow twisted and refuse to bloom. So much can go wrong.”

“I know that better than ever,” Cassia said. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying that your mother was gone. There was no one to tend you, no one who understood your nature. Your father was trying to prune you into his own image, and when that didn’t work, his answer was to cut you down more. And more.”

Cassia nodded, the familiar ache in her chest easing at the sense that Veleda saw her clearly. “But how did you know that? From a spirit?”

“Many signs telling me to come here before it was too late. That the Sylvan king’s daughter would save or doom the land folk. I knew it was vital for me to come here.”

“Were you truly helping me become Deathringer?” Cassia asked bluntly.

A hint of amusement came into the Seer’s dark brown eyes. “What do you think?”

“I think,” Cassia said slowly, recalling the years of experiments, the modest steps forward, the tiny improvements that never amounted to much, “that you helped me make small gains that would satisfy my father, however briefly, but not enough for me to be what he wanted.”

“Well,” said Veleda, her smile widening, “I guess you were paying attention.”

Cassia looked away, angry at the Seer and herself for not suspecting that she was undermining her use of the ring. Even if Veleda’s intentions were pure, she’d deceived her.

“I’m sorry,” Veleda said, putting a gentle hand on Cassia’s shoulder. “I was trying to help you, just not the way your father wanted. If you’d used that ring the way he had, disaster would have followed. Not just for the Sylvans but for all land folk. The signs are clear on this point, Cassia. I tried in small ways to help you see that wasn’t your path, but you were so set on gaining his approval.”

Cassia nodded, swallowing. Veleda was right about that. But she couldn’t wrap her mind around the scope of this. That what she did with the ring affected so much of the future. Her thoughts went to the mystery Zeru had never solved. How did the ring, which his mother had guarded for so long, end up where he could find it?

“Did…” Cassia almost stopped herself from asking. It seemed so outlandish. But then she recalled Veleda admitting she had witnessed Selkolla’s vow to the Dracu queen. “Did you have something to do with Zeru finding the ring? Giving it to me when we were children?”

“How powerful do you think I am?” Veleda said with a chuckle that wasn’t entirely convincing. “But I will say, if it had been Thea who wore that ring, the outcome would have been very different. One of you was meant to find it, and… it was better that it was you.”

Cassia blinked, imagining someone as relentless in battle as Thea using the ring. She shook her head. “We have more to talk about. Much more. And you’ll have to answer to my father.”

“You should go find your sisters,” Veleda said, her tone making it clear she was done sharing confidences. “Your bond with one another is the greatest defense against the coming upheaval.”

“What do you mean?” Cassia asked, her head snapping toward Veleda. “What upheaval?”

The Court Seer watched a bank of gray clouds scudding overhead, her eyes narrowing as if she saw something Cassia couldn’t. “It’s all too vague and too soon to tell. But you and your sisters are in the middle of it.” Her brows came together as her gaze shifted to Cassia. “One of you is going to be more powerful than the Sylvan king.” Her voice lowered. “It scares me to think what might happen if someone gains that much power and isn’t ready for it.”

As Cassia reached the stables, four Skratti guards stood watch. Enora sat serenely on a three-legged stool looking like a soldier-turned-milkmaid. Thea leaned against a wall chewing on a piece of straw, apparently unconcerned with the scucca gore that covered her leathern breastplate and green tunic. Rozie sat on the ground weaving something.

As her sisters caught sight of her, their faces lit with relieved smiles. Enora bounced to her feet and grinned.

Rozie threw down her handful of straw and leaped to her feet. “Cass!”

Cassia opened her arms, bracing her legs as Rozie crashed into her. A protective feeling came over her, and she kissed the top of the ginger curls. “Are you weaving a basket?” she asked.

Rozie lifted her face to whisper in Cassia’s ear. “It’s a garrote to kill Skrattis.”

Cassia couldn’t help but laugh, drawing the stares of the Skratti guards. “Move aside,” she ordered, placing Rozie behind her. “My sisters are to be released immediately.”

“Not our orders,” one of them growled. “Queen said the king’s antlers make it clear he’s an animal, and he belongs with the pigs.”

The other nodded. “And throw his daughters in with him, she said.”

“See that light over there?” She pointed to the east. “I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen sunrise, but unless I’m greatly mistaken, you’re going to be very uncomfortable in a few minutes.”

“We’ve taken Scarhamm,” the first Skratti said, licking one of his tusks in a way that made Cassia wince. “We’ll get used to the sun.”

“Will you get used to being pummeled by the Sylvan king?” Thea asked, buffing her nails against her dirty shirt. “Because I think he’s waking.”

The Skrattis looked at one another. “Maybe we’d better check in with our queen.” They weren’t as fast as Dracu, but they hustled away in due haste.

“We could have killed them,” Thea said, smiling as she watched them go. “If it weren’t for that pact. At dawn, things would have been interesting.” She sounded regretful at the lost opportunity for bloodshed. Cassia remembered Veleda’s assertion that if Thea had worn the ring, things would have gone differently, and couldn’t help a small shiver.

“Where is he?” Cassia asked, steeling herself.

Enora nodded to the shadows inside the stable. “Selkolla’s lightning had quite the effect. He fell asleep right after you disappeared into the ground.” Her expression tightened, her eyes showing worry. “Oh, Cass. I was scared to death.”

Cassia knew Enora didn’t scare easily. “I’m glad to be home.”

“What happened?” Rozie demanded. “Tell us every detail.”

“The Seer is dead. We’re safe, Sproutling. I’ll tell you everything, but first, I want to have a word with our father.”

Enora’s expression sobered. “We’ll go with you.”

Cassia shook her head. “I can handle him now.” And she realized that was true.

With a deep breath, Cassia moved into the stable, her heart beating thickly. She found her father sitting on the floor, his back resting against a bit of wall between stalls. His breathing was shallow, his eyes glassy as he looked up at her. She wanted to ask if he would recover but knew he wouldn’t appreciate her pointing out any weakness.

“What of the Seer?” he asked, his voice rougher than usual.

“Dead.”

“The scuccas?”

“Released from her power. Some of them are peaceful. Others aren’t. We’ll have to deal with them as we come across them in Thirstwood.”

The Sylvan king stared into the middle distance. “I felt the influx of life. But for a moment”—he looked up at her—“you commanded the forest.”

She gave a single nod. She’d felt it in that moment, the entire forest listening to her. Her, and no one else.

Silence fell. Cassia waited for her father to say something, anything. Even threats would be welcome.

“You have nothing to say to me?” she asked.

His eyes shifted. “Words have never been my battlefield of choice.”

She drew a breath. “Words don’t have to be a battlefield. There are other ways to talk.”

“None that I know,” her father said.

When he said nothing more, she asked, “Am I still banished?”

“No.” The answer was firm but stiff, angry.

Her teeth ground together. He wouldn’t apologize. Never. Even for nearly killing her.

“Because of the power I have now?” she asked.

He said, equally firm and angry, “Because you are my daughter.”

Cassia looked away. She couldn’t help but swallow. It was as close to an admission of wrongdoing as she’d get. Though he’d never say it, he regretted banishing her. He’d known who she was even in the war room. But he hadn’t acknowledged her. The Sylvan king did not admit to mistakes.

He was inscrutable, so beyond understanding. She sensed that emotion lived somewhere behind those cold eyes, the same way she could understand the trees. And she knew beyond doubt that her father was the loneliest person she had ever known. Maybe that was partly why she’d always longed to be closer to him. For his sake.

She had to accept that she would never understand him. And that there were others who would welcome her love and give it back.

“I know why you forbade the younger Sylvans from finding our trees,” she said. “I used to think it was because you were worried we’d go into a long slumber, the way my mother did. But now I know. You didn’t want anyone else to have a connection to the forest. You didn’t want to risk any rivalry to your supremacy.”

His eyes met hers, but he said nothing.

“And I know what you did to the forest,” she said, her voice low and fervent. “I met the Seer you hired. Xoden.” She waited, but he still said nothing. “He told me you had him trap hostile spirits in some of the trees to make them bloodthirsty. To gain power and control.”

The king’s nostrils flared. He didn’t admit or deny it.

“And my mother?” she demanded, afraid to ask, terrified how he might answer. “Was her spirit one of the ones sacrificed to your greater cause?”

“No,” he said succinctly. “I did nothing to harm her. That is one line I would never cross.”

She felt the truth in his words, and something in her eased. “If you ever do think to cross those lines, or to sacrifice any more Sylvan spirits, know this: I will battle you for Thirstwood if I have to.”

He lifted his chin. “You plan to fight me for control?”

“It depends. You should think about this war and whether it’s necessary. The queen seems to have accepted the loss of the ring. That’s a start to brokering peace. If you don’t, you might find the roots of Thirstwood less than willing to do your bidding.”

“Threats?”

His sneer made her stomach clench, but she wouldn’t back down. “Enough war, Father. Enough.”