Chapter 4
What we call magic is the power of the Old Ones harvested by the Ancients, left behind by their footsteps when they retreated from our lands.
It lingers in the air we breathe, the water we drink, and the fire that warms us.
If we sit quietly and listen, sometimes we can hear the whisper of their words.
—THE LITTLE BOOK OF SPELLS
Thea inhaled sharply, turning to call Enora, but when she looked back at the chair in front of the fire, it was empty.
Her eyes darted from the chair to the bar to every shadowy corner. Could he have slid out of the tavern without her noticing?
Suddenly, a strange image appeared all around her. Several thin, metallic trunks and delicate branches floated into view. For a moment, the room was filled with silver trees.
Her feet rooted in place, Thea watched the vision fade, the jerk of her heart slamming as wildly as if she were in a fight.
She blinked as her mind suddenly went fuzzy.
Why was her pulse racing? Had the interaction with the pixies upset her that badly?
She looked at the chair in front of the fire.
Hadn’t someone been sitting there a moment before?
Confusion coursed through her as Enora approached. “What’s wrong?”
“I…” Thea cleared her throat, searching for a reason for her turbulent emotions. “I offended the pixies.”
“Oh, is that all?” Enora’s posture relaxed. “I knew you would.”
“Excuse me?” Thea asked, irritation providing a welcome change in focus.
Enora smirked, but her eyes asked forgiveness. “Don’t be mad. I only wanted you to keep them busy so I could talk to my friends without them overhearing. I could tell something was wrong from the look on Kaiya’s face.”
“Did you learn anything?” Thea asked, still unsettled at the feeling that she’d lost track of what was going on around her.
Enora nodded, her expression worried. “Let’s rescue Burke and get going. I’d rather tell you closer to home.”
Burke wasted no time in saying goodbye to Fen.
Thea nodded to Wick, who grinned and waved before setting two more thimbles in front of the pixies.
The pale-haired pixie, Winter, raised a brow at Thea, but Autumn didn’t spare them a glance.
Burke opened the door, and the three Huntsmen left the warmth of the tavern.
The brisk air sharpened Thea’s senses, making her aware of her surroundings.
Patrol always required vigilance, but she had a lingering sense of unease that seemed out of proportion to the night’s encounters.
Enora had something to share, but that wasn’t unusual.
They often heard warnings from the forest folk, and whatever the threat, they would deal with it.
She ran over the conversation with the pixies in her mind but could find no cause for concern, aside from her own mistakes, which in retrospect were minor.
The pixies had been ready to find fault, as they always were.
Lost in her thoughts, Thea hardly noticed the silence of her companions until an hour had passed.
Enora didn’t speak until the sky started to lighten as they neared Scarhamm.
“The naiads are on edge,” she said, her voice pitched low.
“I know this will sound odd, but Kaiya said they’ve caught glimpses of silver trees in the woods, like nothing they’ve ever seen before. ”
Thea’s head jerked up, a vague memory flitting through her mind, there and gone. “Nearby?” If she, Enora, and Burke were the closest patrol, they should head there immediately.
“No, you don’t understand,” Enora replied. “They’re not real. They appear in the forest, but when the naiads go near, the trees are not actually there. It’s like they’re figments.”
Burke’s voice lacked its usual lightness as he added his own report. “Fen has seen them, too. He thinks they’re somehow coming into our world from the land of spirits.”
Thea considered that. “Trees from the land of the dead?”
Enora made a doubtful sound. “It doesn’t seem likely. Noctua keeps ephemeral beings bound in the Netherwhere. And Father’s protections on the forest keep out anything that shouldn’t be here. Veleda even adds her own wards around Scarhamm.”
“But how strong can those wards be?” Burke asked. “The Skrattis have been entering Thirstwood.” He lowered his voice as if he were afraid someone might overhear. “Even when it’s not a full moon.”
Thea had wondered about this, too. All the Huntsmen probably had. She assumed the elders were aware of the threats and were doing something to handle it. Because if strange things were appearing in the woods, that was a direct threat to the safety of the Sylvans.
Thea would not take any threat lightly.
After a few hours of much needed sleep, Thea dressed in her practice gear. Though she’d spent the night on patrol, she would still be expected to put in time on the training grounds. Not that she minded. Sparring was always a good way to work out her frustrations.
But first, she wanted to speak to Tordon about the sightings of silver trees.
Given his age, he knew all the old history.
She checked the war room, the kitchen, and great hall before trying the library, a modest room crammed with dusty codices and scrolls.
Orange rays of sunrise streamed in from leaded windows high on the paneled walls, drawing rectangles of light on a long, scarred pine table where Tordon was leaning over a map, his hand absently running over his short dark curls.
He looked up as she entered, his eyes brightening as he saw her.
“Ah, Thea. I’m planning the patrols for tonight.
Your father and I have been trying to discern a pattern to the Skratti attacks.
Maybe you can help me.” He motioned to the map, which he’d covered with small wooden carvings of soldiers.
“I’ve marked all the previous skirmishes.
I’m hoping your young eyes will pick up something I’m missing. ”
Thea stared at the map for a few minutes, lingering on each location, trying to see any connection. Some areas were boggy, some dry, some populated with forest creatures, some relatively empty.
“I’m at a loss,” she finally admitted. “It used to be they’d find burial mounds or other places where the ground was disturbed. Now they seem to be able to come up anywhere.”
Tordon rubbed the bridge of his nose. “None of these areas have openings to the Cryptlands. I thought at first it could be the work of the Dracu, but Cassia’s friend Zeru verified that his queen is holding to her side. The Skrattis are ignoring her edicts, and she isn’t happy about it.”
“Maybe the Dracu is wrong,” Thea suggested, not willing to trust the word of a longtime enemy.
Tordon’s eyes met hers. “You don’t like him.”
She couldn’t rightly say that, so she shrugged. “Don’t know him.”
Tordon leaned against the table. “I remember a time when the Dracu and Sylvans were not at war, nor even at odds. Yes, I am that old, child. And yes, you are a child to me, so stop scowling. I get a sense that Zeru—he does have a name, you know—truly cares about Cassia. And he helped us greatly with negotiating the truce.”
Thea felt chastised. She hated admitting she was wrong. “I suppose.”
He chuckled. “You’d do well to listen to me. Take your allies where you can find them.”
“Speaking of allies,” Thea said, seizing the opportunity for a change of subject, “some of the forest folk are worried. They’ve seen something strange.” Briefly, she told him about the reports of silver trees in the forest.
Tordon listened attentively until she’d finished, his brow furrowed over serious eyes. “But the trees weren’t truly there?”
She nodded. “When the folk moved toward them, they disappeared.” The groove that appeared between Tordon’s brows did not look promising. Perhaps he was as confused as she and Enora and Burke had been. “You don’t know what they could be?” she prompted finally.
Tordon sighed, his eyes settling on the map. “For all we know, it could have been a trick of the moonlight.”
Thea lifted her brows in surprise. “But the naiads have seen the trees, as well as Fen, the swamp dweller.”
Tordon pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, Thea. I don’t have the answers.” As if realizing he sounded abrupt, he looked up and gave her a genuine, if tired, smile. “But let me think on it some more.”
Thea nodded. “Thank you.” But as she left the library, her mind whirred with questions.
Tordon’s phrasing was too careful. I don’t have the answers was different from saying he didn’t know. She found her chest tightening with an unusual restlessness. If something dangerous was coming, didn’t they all need to know what was going on?
As Thea arrived at the training yard, both Burke and Enora were already there with a group of Huntsmen.
Enora was facing off with young Cedric, going easy on him from the looks of it.
Cassia was there, too, practicing knife-throwing at a target on the far end of the yard, her golden wings catching the sun with every movement.
Rozie was sitting on the sidelines as a spectator, her coppery hair making the training yard brighter.
Tibald sat on a rock, his hands crossed loosely over his belly, watching it all.
“Face off with me?” Thea asked Burke.
He gave a quick nod. “Gladly.”
Soon, they were sparring, and the wooden swords made a satisfying sound with every contact, which relieved some of her tension. Burke seemed to appreciate her frenzied pace, matching her vigor.
“Can’t stop thinking about what Fen said.” His eyes looked haunted, though his movements were as sharp and clean as always. “What are those silver trees? I don’t like an enemy I can’t see.”
Thea nodded. Her stomach was tied in knots, the sweat cold on her skin.
Not only were silver trees appearing in the forest, a dress that stank of magic had appeared in her bedchamber.
Inside the walls of Scarhamm, where Veleda’s wards shouldn’t let anything in.
She’d tried to put it out of her mind as some kind of joke, but the coincidence was too telling.
Distracted by her thoughts, Thea mistimed her parry and took a blow on her shoulder. It caught her off balance and sent her down on one knee. Rozie shouted in surprise as some of the Huntsmen gasped. Thea saw a glint of gold as Cassia rushed closer.
Tibald stood up, his expression concerned. “It’s been years since you let your guard down like that.” When she gave him an angry look, he put his palms up. “It’s only the truth. Maybe your night patrols are catching up to you. Rest and try again tomorrow.”
Tibald’s kind tone only made it worse. She stood and brushed herself off, hoping her braids hid the worst of her blush.
When she looked up, Burke was staring at her with a mixture of triumph and disbelief.
Her hand twitched, ready to hit the smug smile off his face, but that would only make her look like a sore loser.
Maybe Tibald was right that she needed rest. She had no stomach to continue sparring now.
She felt the weight of her sisters’ and fellow Huntsmen’s stares as she turned to leave. She wasn’t used to being seen as weak. She wanted to snarl at them all that she was fine. But it would be a lie.
Rozie trotted along beside her as she headed toward the fortress with long strides. “I’ve never seen you get hit, Thea! Is something wrong?”
Thea slowed her steps to match Rozie’s pace. “It’ll never happen again.”
Cassia caught up, concern in her hazel eyes. “You’re not hurt?”
Enora joined a moment later, her chin jutting at a determined angle, her eyes narrowed on Thea. “Care to explain that unprecedented show of inattention?”
Thea shrugged. She didn’t want to mention the silver trees in front of Rozie, and though Enora was clearly worried, no one was more disturbed by the lapse than Thea. “Something is off,” she said finally.
“I know what you mean,” Cassia said, lifting her head and sniffing the air, reminding Thea that her sister’s senses were keener now. “I feel it lately, too. I wish I knew what was causing it.”
The four sisters walked in silence for a few moments.
Rozie broke the hush.
“If you’re not on patrol tonight, I’ll give you Mr. Himmy to sleep in your bedchamber,” she offered, naming a black-and-gray cat who was one of her favorites. “He hogs my pillow, but he’s so mean he’d rip anyone to shreds if they tried to hurt you. He always helps me sleep.”
“Thanks for the offer,” Thea replied, “but I don’t want to take him from you.” More importantly, she didn’t want Rozie’s notoriously grumpy cat anywhere near her.
“Rozie, who are you expecting him to rip to shreds while you sleep in your own bedchamber in Scarhamm?” Enora asked, alarmed.
Rozie shrugged her slight shoulders. “Who knows? We didn’t expect shrubs to try to kill us until a few months ago.”
Though Enora laughed, a coil of tension wound tighter in Thea’s chest.
“Well, murderous plants aside,” Cassia said, “we all need sleep. We should get some rest before the revel tonight.”
“Another one?” Thea asked.
Enora turned to her in surprise. “There was a time we longed for revels again. What’s wrong with you?”
“Maybe I don’t trust this truce.” And the fact that there were new threats: silver trees in the forest that weren’t really there and a dress that had mysteriously appeared on her hearth.
How could she make merry when she didn’t know what was going on?
When she was starting to feel like she couldn’t protect her sisters?
“Veleda says Sylvans need bright, happy things to flourish,” Rozie pointed out.
Thea scoffed. “Veleda spends her days in a dark workroom in the cellars. What does she know about bright, happy things?”
“Well,” Cassia said, “if it’s brightness you need, I keep inviting you to sunny Welkincaster and you keep refusing me.” She raised a pale brow. “Unless you’ve changed your mind…?”
Thea hated to disappoint her gentle sister, so she smiled as she said, “Someday, maybe.”
But not right now. Her gut told her some dark threat was growing, unseen. And her instincts were rarely wrong.