Chapter 010 The Autumn Deal
Nobody tells you that riding a giant bee is mostly just holding on for dear life while your inner thighs turn to hamburger meat.
In the movies, aerial travel is majestic. It's wind in your hair, soaring orchestral scores, and sweeping views of the landscape. In reality-or whatever version of reality Fenwood was currently serving up-it was loud, terrifying, and smelled distinctly of pollen and ozone.
Barnaby, the Northern Humming Bee I was currently strapped to, was a marvel of nature. He was the size of a minivan, fuzzy in a way that made you want to pet him, and possessed of a endurance that would shame a marathon runner. But he didn't have a suspension system. Every time his translucent wings beat, a vibration rattled through my skeleton that threatened to liquefy my molars.
"Lean forward," Thalren shouted over the drone of wings. He was flying parallel to me on a bee that looked like it had seen some things-scarred chitin and a chipped stinger. "You are fighting the movement."
"I am not fighting!" I yelled back, gripping the coarse fur at Barnaby's neck. "I am holding on so I don't plummet to my death!"
"Same thing."
We had been flying for three days. Three days of dodging Crown patrols, sleeping in tree branches that felt safer than the ground, and eating whatever dry rations Xyl and Sylith had packed. My body was a map of aches. My shoulder, where the arrow had grazed me, was a dull, throbbing point of heat, but the golden vines under my skin seemed to be keeping the infection at bay. They hummed, actually. A low, constant vibration that synced with the forest.
It was weird. Like having a cat purring inside your bloodstream.
We banked left, following the curve of a river that flowed uphill. That was another fun thing about Fenwood-geometry here was more of a suggestion than a rule.
Thalren drifted closer. For the first two days, he'd been a statue of tense vigilance, expecting the Crown to pop out of the clouds with net guns. But today, he seemed... looser. The lines around his eyes weren't dug quite so deep. When we stopped for water yesterday, he'd actually handed me his canteen before taking a drink himself. It was a low bar, sure, but for a guy who started this trip by threatening to execute me, it was progress.
"We need to land," Vahr called out from the lead position. His voice carried unnaturally well over the wind, a trick of his shadow-magic. "The canopy is thinning."
We descended into a grove of silver-barked trees. Barnaby hit the ground with a thump that rattled my teeth, adjusting his legs with a skittering sound that triggered every arachnophobia instinct I'd suppressed since childhood. I slid off, my legs refusing to support me for a solid three seconds.
Thalren was there before I hit the moss. He caught my elbow, steadying me. His grip was firm, warm through the leather of his bracer.
"Breathe," he said. Not a command. Just advice.
"I'm fine," I said, straightening up and wincing as my hip popped. "Just need to invent ibuprofen. Whoever does that first in this world is going to be richer than God."
He looked at me, a flicker of amusement touching his mouth. "I do not know this God-merchant, but Vorn has willow-bark tea."
"Hilarity," I muttered. "You're getting funny. I don't like it. It makes me nervous."
"Alert," Vahr said, appearing from the shadows of a fern that was larger than my Honda Civic. He didn't walk; he just sort of coalesced, shedding wisps of darkness like smoke. "The patrols have shifted. The blockade is ahead."
The levity vanished. Thalren released my arm, his hand drifting to the hilt of his sword. "How many?"
"Too many to fight," Vahr said. "And they have brought the Aerocopters. If we fly, they will spot us. If we stay on the ground, the hounds will scent us within the hour."
I looked at Barnaby, who was grooming his antennae with a front leg, completely unbothered by our impending doom. "So we can't fly, and we can't walk. Great. Do we have shovels?"
Vahr looked at me. "Actually, yes."
He pointed to a dark fissure at the base of a massive tree, the roots twisting up like gnarled knuckles to form a cave entrance. It looked like a throat. It breathed like one, too-a damp, cool draft smelling of wet earth and mushrooms came sighing out of it.
"The Root Caves," Sylith whispered, looking pale. "Vahr, no. The time dilation alone..."
"It is the only path," Vahr said. "It cuts under the blockade and emerges near the Weeping Ridge. Unless you prefer to explain your presence to the Luminae's inquisitors?"
Everyone looked at the hole. Then everyone looked at the sky, where the distant, rhythmic thrum of Crown rotors was starting to bleed into the sound of the wind.
"Into the hole," I said. "Awesome."
***
The Root Caves were not just dark. They were aggressively dark. It wasn't the absence of light; it was a heavy, suffocating substance that seemed to eat the glow of the bioluminescent fungi lining the walls.
We had to leave the bees behind. I felt a pang of guilt as I patted Barnaby's fuzzy flank goodbye, but he just buzzed and flew off toward a patch of oversized clover. Lucky bastard.
Inside, the air was thick enough to chew. Sound behaved strangely here-my footsteps sounded like they were coming from ten seconds in the future, and Glimm's nervous murmuring sounded like it was coming from inside my own skull.
"Don't touch the walls," Thalren murmured, his voice right at my ear. "The fungi are... reactive."
"Reactive how? Explode-y reactive or dissolve-y reactive?"
"Yes."
We moved in single file. Vahr took point, his form blending perfectly with the gloom. I was in the middle, with Thalren behind me, basically breathing down my neck. Xyl and Sylith brought up the rear, Xyl munching on a piece of hardtack with a rhythm that was oddly comforting in the silence.
The tunnel widened into a cavern that stretched up into shadow. Massive roots, thick as subway trains, crisscrossed the space, suspended over a drop I couldn't see the bottom of.
"Stop," Vahr hissed.
We froze.
At first, I heard nothing. Then I felt it. A vibration in the soles of my boots.
*Huuuuh. Huuuuh.*
Breathing. Something massive was sleeping in the dark below us. The sound was wet, rattling deep in a chest cavity the size of a house.
"What is that?" I mouthed.
"Do not ask," Thalren whispered, his hand pressing flat against the small of my back to urge me forward. "Just move. Softly."
We crept along a narrow ridge of stone. The breathing continued, a rhythmic pressure wave that made my ears pop. I looked down. I shouldn't have looked down.
Below, in the abyss, bioluminescent spores drifted down like snow, landing on a shape. It was vast, covered in moss and what looked like stone plates. An eye, currently closed, was visible as a slit of paler gray. It twitched.
My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. I focused on Vahr's back. *Left foot, right foot. Don't sneeze. Don't trip. Don't think about the giant underground kaiju.*
We slipped past it. The tunnel narrowed again, squeezing us until my shoulders brushed the damp, spongy walls. I felt a stinging sensation on my arm-where I'd brushed a patch of purple moss-but I bit my tongue.
Time blurred. Had we been walking for an hour? A day? My watch was spinning counter-clockwise, which was helpful.
Finally, the air changed. The damp, moldy smell gave way to something crisp. Wood smoke. Apples. Decay, but the good kind-the smell of leaves turning in October.
Light appeared ahead. Not the sickly green of the fungi, but retreating, golden daylight.
We burst out of the cave mouth, stumbling onto a carpet of red and gold leaves. I inhaled greedy lungfuls of fresh air, bending over with my hands on my knees.
"We made it," Glimm squeaked, popping out of my pocket to shake himself off. "I hated that. I hated every second of that. Zero stars."
"We are clear," Vahr said, checking the perimeter. "The blockade is miles south."
"Thalren," a voice said.
It was smooth, rich, and sounded like it was spoken through a mouthful of honey.
Thalren froze. I saw his spine lock up, the relaxed demeanor of the last few days evaporating instantly. He turned slowly.
Standing by a white-barked aspen was a woman. Or, mostly a woman. Her skin had the texture of birch bark, pale and slightly rough. Her eyes were solid amber, no pupil, no sclera. She wore a dress that wasn't woven so much as grown-layers of shifting autumn leaves that rustled even though there was no breeze.
She was terrifyingly beautiful.
"Thessaly," Thalren said. His voice was flat, hard. "I thought you were dead."
She smiled. It was a sharp expression. "And I thought you were smart enough to stay away from the Hollows, Kael."
*Kael?*
I looked at Thalren. He flinched at the name, a micro-spasm in his jaw.
"We are just passing through," he said. "We need no trouble with the Autumn Court."
"Passing through?" Thessaly stepped away from the tree. She moved with a liquid grace, leaves swirling around her ankles. "You are on the Duchess's lawn, Kael. There is no passing through. There is only tribute."
"We have no tribute," Thalren said, stepping in front of me. Blocking her view. "Let us pass, and we will be gone before sunset."
"Oh, I think you have tribute," she said, leaning to the side to look past him. Her amber eyes locked onto me. I felt a prickle of static run down my spine. "The Human who speaks to roots. The Anomaly."
"She is not for sale," Thalren snarled. His hand was on his sword now, knuckles white.
"Relax, Wolf," Thessaly laughed. "I don't want to buy her. My mother wants to meet her."
Thalren stayed put. "No. The Duchess plays games we cannot afford."
"The Duchess has answers," Thessaly said softly. "About the Convergence. About why the Crown is so terrified of her." She nodded at me. "And we offer sanctuary. One night. Hot food. Beds. Safety from the hunters on your heels."
"We refuse," Thalren said.
"We accept," I said.
Thalren whipped around to look at me, betrayal flashing in his silver eyes. "Aria. No."
"Thalren, look at us," I said, gesturing to the group. Sylith was swaying on her feet. Xyl was bandaging a cut on his leg. Even Vahr looked gray around the edges. "We haven't slept in a bed in a week. We're running on fumes. If they have answers, and they have food, I'm staying."
"You do not understand the Court," he hissed. "Everything has a price."
"Then we haggle," I said, stepping around him to face the birch-woman. "Hi. I'm Aria. We'd love to come for dinner."
Thessaly's smile widened. It was predatory, but amused. "A pleasure, Aria. Follow me."
She turned and walked down a path that hadn't been there a moment ago, lined with lantern-fruit glowing soft orange.
Thalren stood there for a second, radiating fury. Then he exhaled, a sharp, angry sound, and fell into step beside me.
"This is a mistake," he muttered.
"Probably," I admitted. "But I really need a shower."
We walked in silence for a moment. The forest here was manicured, intense. The leaves were too red, the gold too bright. It felt like walking inside a saturation filter.
"Kael?" I asked quietly.
He didn't look at me. "A name from a long time ago."
"She knows you well."
"She knew me," he corrected. "Before I became... this. Before the Bloom rejected me and I took the Crown's coin."
"You were Autumn Court?"
"I was a lot of things," he said. He sounded tired. The old, bitter weariness was back, heavier than before. "None of them good."
"I think she still likes you," Glimm whispered from my shoulder, loud enough for Thalren to hear. "Did you see the way she looked at his arms? Total bedroom eyes."
"Silence, fungus," Thalren growled.
"Just saying," Glimm said. Then he looked at me and smirked. "Jealous?"
"Shut up," I said, too quickly.
"Oh, definitely jealous," Glimm crowed.
I flicked him on the cap. "I am not jealous. I am pragmatic. She has a house. We have a hole in the ground. I'm choosing the house."
But as I watched Thalren watch Thessaly's retreating back, his jaw tight with memories I didn't have access to, I felt a sour little twist in my gut that had nothing to do with the bee ride.
Ahead, the trees parted. A sprawling manor house grew directly out of the massive stump of a sequoia, lit by floating candles and smelling of cinnamon and wood smoke. It looked warm. It looked safe.
It looked like a trap.
"Ready?" I asked Thalren.
He adjusted his bracer, covering the corruption marks on his arm.
"No," he said. "But you never listen to me anyway."
"That's part of my charm."
We walked through the gate, and the smell of apples swallowed us whole.