Chapter 8
It is easier to cut out a tongue than a lie that has spread.
—THE SYLVAN KING
Thea stood before her father in the war room, her hands behind her back, her posture straight, chin up.
She had requested this audience, but now she wished she were here for any other reason.
She would rather speak of attacks and stratagems, even poor chances on the battlefield.
Anything but the thing she had come to ask him.
She let her eyes roam, calmed by the familiarity of the space.
The war room was large with scuffed wooden plank floors and stone walls covered in weaponry, each stained and showing signs of wear.
A long oaken table ran down the center of the room, its surface dented from decades, perhaps centuries, of use.
The Sylvan king stood at the head of the table with the great maw of a fireplace at his back.
It gave a rather impressive effect when paired with the fire that lit his eyes when he was angry.
Normally, Thea loved this room. She soaked up its energy when she and the senior Huntsmen pored over maps, planned attacks or counterattacks, or reviewed defenses.
With its scents of battle, its old wood furnishings and broken weapons, its rugged surfaces, this room was symbolic of the history of the Sylvans themselves.
It spoke of the grit of her people surviving against impossible odds, fleeing from humans and then finding themselves threatened by Azpians who outnumbered them by many times. Worn and weary, but still here.
The Sylvan king shifted, bringing her attention back to him.
“What is it, Thea?” her father asked. He sounded more tired than usual, and there were lines under his eyes that Thea had never noticed before.
She wondered why he looked weary now, when the war with the Dracu was over.
Perhaps he didn’t trust this truce, either.
She realized she was scared of his reaction, but instead of fighting it, she allowed it to sharpen her mind the way she did before a battle.
Fear was there, but she didn’t have to be ruled by it.
“I have reason to believe our wards are being tampered with. Veleda has Seen signs of this but hasn’t yet found the source. ”
He gestured sharply as she paused. “Go on.”
Thea assumed from his lack of reaction that he was already aware of the problem. Still, she wasn’t sure if the Court Seer would have shared this next part if she was uncertain of her visions. “Veleda has Seen symbols associated with my mother. I can’t help but wonder if there’s a reason.”
A profound silence followed. For a second, Thea felt as if she were being crushed by it. Her breaths came shorter, her chest aching with dread. The harsh look in her father’s eyes took her straight back to that awful night.
After her mother had disappeared with the handsome stranger, Thea had run home as fast as she could.
Her father had been waiting at the gates, almost as if he’d expected her.
His antlers were stretched wide and pale against the darkness.
His eyes were red with anger in an otherwise expressionless face.
“Call the Hunt!” she’d gasped, out of breath. “Mother disappeared in the woods. A stranger took her—”
Her father looked down at her and said, “Hush!”
At his tone, Thea had gone abruptly silent.
“Your mother has gone into her tree to rest,” he said in a harsh tone. “You saw nothing but that.”
Thea stared at him, shocked that he was so adamant. “No! She didn’t go into her tree—”
“She did.” The Sylvan king’s voice deepened to a bass note of warning. “She is ill. She is in her tree. She has gone there to rest until she is well again. Do you understand?”
Thea had stared up at him, uncomprehending.
“Do you understand?” he’d repeated, more threat than question.
When his meaning became clear, Thea’s mouth had dropped open. The Sylvan king was asking her to lie? Most Sylvans couldn’t. What Thea’s father was asking was unthinkable.
“I can’t lie,” she’d said, her voice barely a breath.
His lip had curled with contempt, one of the few times she’d ever seen it directed at her. Her stomach had contracted with shame. “I said nothing about lying,” he said in a harsh rasp. “Your mother is in her tree. You will say nothing to contradict that.”
Thea nodded, chilled by his implacability. An order from him could not be disobeyed.
The next morning, King Silvanus had told the court that his queen had gone into her tree to rest. It was clear he would brook no questions.
Still, Cassia had timidly asked when their mother was coming home.
The king had stared at his daughter with a dreadful coldness.
Tibald filled the gap with reassurances that the queen would come home once she was well.
From then on, Enora had taken over the role of caregiver to her younger sisters. Soon, it became clear their mother was not going to return any time soon. If ever. Rozie cried at night, her sobs tearing at Thea’s heart.
But Thea couldn’t cry. Everything had stayed locked up inside. Her grief was different from her sisters’ because she knew what they didn’t. Her mother was not in her tree. She had gone off with a man. Willingly. The knowledge made her feel separate and alone.
Over time, it was easier to feel anger than sadness. And why shouldn’t she be angry? Her mother hadn’t cared about the pain and destruction she’d wrought by abandoning them for… a Seer, perhaps? A mage? Thea would never forget the stink of magic in the air that night.
She’d hated magic ever since.
As Thea stood in the war room waiting for her father to reply, she found the heat of impatience growing inside her. But showing it would do no good. She swallowed her frustration and searched for the best way to ask him. “Please, Father. Can you finally tell me what happened to Mother?”
The Sylvan king’s eyes lit with fire. Thea should have stopped there. She knew well when she was in danger of going too far. But this was too important. “I don’t ask for myself,” she said sincerely. “This is a threat that I don’t understand. I’m trying to protect our people.”
The flames in his eyes grew brighter. “You dare imply I don’t have our people’s best interests at heart?”
“No,” Thea said, realizing her mistake. “I only meant—”
“My Huntsmen receive information when I deem it necessary. Are you still one of my loyal Huntsmen?”
“Of course, Father, but—”
“Push me further and you will find yourself removed from patrol. Do you understand, Theodora?”
Thea gasped. He had never spoken to her like this.
“Dismissed,” he said, the flames in his eyes telling her he meant it.
Thea could not feel her fingers as she turned and walked to the war room door. As she opened it, she felt a chill on the back of her neck, and the shadows seemed to dance on the walls.
It almost looked as if they were laughing.