Chapter 14 #2
Winter sighed. “Autumn says that all the time lately. I can’t tell you. It’s irritating, but I know she’s been bothered by visions of the silver trees, and this is where most folk have seen them. I thought maybe if I came to the shadow king’s tree, I’d see one myself.”
Thea stopped and spun to face him. “Are you referring to that walnut tree?”
Winter floated up and down, almost like a nod. “Of course.”
Thea gasped. “You know about… him?” The magic wouldn’t let her say his name.
He looked perplexed. “Don’t you?”
“Not until recently. None of my tutors ever mentioned him.”
The pixie gave her a sour look. “Your father likes to keep control of what is known in his stronghold. But the rest of the forest folk have ways of passing on history that are not tied to parchment or vellum. We speak of these stories to protect one another. You see, there are places here that do not belong to the Sylvan king.”
“Everything in Thirstwood belongs to him,” she said, voicing a truth she’d been told her whole life and wondering why her mouth felt tight when she spoke it. “We all have our own tree that gives us strength and life force.” Even if she didn’t know where hers was.
Winter flapped a hand. “Yes, yes, we all know the pride you Sylvans take in your connection with the forest. But other folk live here, too, outside the safety of Scarhamm’s walls. We have to know the truth of things to survive.”
Thea tried not to chafe at the pixie’s implication that Sylvans did not. “Then tell me this truth: Who does this tree belong to?” she asked. “What does he look like?”
Winter shook his head, as if she were being obtuse. “They say the shadow king is more beautiful than the stars and as cruel as the void that holds them.”
Thea’s heart raced. Damon fit that description—the beautiful part, anyway. And he had to be cruel to invite those folk to his dance where they became enchanted. The question was, what did he do to them, ultimately?
“Your patrol is near,” Winter said, his head cocked to one side. “I have to get home to check on Autumn.” He flew off, his light hair visible for a minute before he was concealed by trees.
The baying of her father’s hounds interrupted Thea’s thoughts.
They must have caught her scent. The howls changed to excited yips as they spied her, bursting through the underbrush to jump on her.
Bracing her legs so she wouldn’t be bowled over, she laughed as she patted their heads and scratched behind their ears. She loved the hounds, always had.
Enora appeared on the path, running full out. “Where in the nine realms of the Netherwhere have you been?” she asked breathlessly. “After the battle, we couldn’t find you.” She came to a halt, grabbing her sister in a tight embrace and letting her go to look her over. “I feared the worst.”
“I’m sorry,” Thea said, hating that she’d worried anyone.
“Were you injured?” Enora demanded, looking her over.
“Not unless you count some cuts and bruises.”
Enora’s eyes snapped to hers. “Where did you go?” When Thea said nothing, her voice hardened. “We were worried half into our graves. Cassia has been flying for hours. Curse it, where is she?” She looked up at the canopy. “Someone needs to flag her down.”
Thea’s guilt intensified. “She wouldn’t have found me no matter where she searched.”
Enora rounded on her. “Thea, what is going on?”
“I can’t tell you.” She winced, remembering Winter saying how annoying that line was.
To escape Enora’s clear anger, Thea started walking, mindful of the hounds as they wove a haphazard trajectory, crossing back and forth to sniff in the grasses at the edge of the path.
Burke and Cedric appeared around a bend, jogging toward them.
At the same time, a whooshing overhead told her of Cassia’s arrival just before she gracefully landed in front of them, sweeping her wings to her back.
“Thea.” Cassia rushed forward, her eyes wide with worry. “Are you hurt?”
“She’s fine,” Enora said sourly, still clearly furious.
Thea smiled at Cassia and embraced her. “Were you going to heal me if I was?”
Cassia bit her lip, holding up the hand that wore the yellow gemstone. “The ring works best with plants, but of course I’d do my best.”
“The way you make things grow, I’d worry you’d make me taller,” Thea said, managing a smile. “The Ancients know I don’t need any more height.”
“Glad we found you,” Burke interrupted. “Strange things are happening to you lately. What’s going on with you, Thea?”
She pressed her lips together, annoyed at his blunt question. But then she remembered how she’d drawn her knife on him, completely overreacting to his getting the better of her.
“Didn’t mean to threaten you in the training yard,” she said, her eyes falling for a second before she forced herself to look up at him. “I’m sorry.”
“I accept your apology,” he said, inclining his head graciously. A little dramatically, in her opinion.
But she was grateful. She didn’t need to make enemies right now.
As Thea returned to Scarhamm with the search party, the Sylvan king stood in the open gates, Tibald and Tordon on either side of him. Tordon nodded politely in her direction, but Tibald wore an expression she couldn’t read.
Thea halted, feeling as though she’d been caught out.
“You disappeared during a battle,” the king said without preamble. “Were you injured?”
Thea swallowed, her mouth dust dry. She couldn’t tell them a shadow stranger had taken her to dance in another realm. Even if she’d been able to, it would sound so ludicrous they might think she was lying, which would be more shocking than her disappearance.
“No.” That was all she could say that was truthful.
Tibald’s voice was confused. “If you weren’t injured, what happened to you? Was it something to do with those birds that appeared? Still can’t figure out where they came from.” When she merely grimaced, he added, “We searched the whole area. For hours. You have no explanation?”
Thea shook her head.
The king took a step forward, his chin tilting down so that his antlers looked like curved swords about to fall. “Where did you go, Theodora?”
His harsh tone made her wince. But she had said as much as she could. Even at the thought of telling her father the truth, her mouth tightened. “I didn’t run off,” she managed, realizing a defensive answer only made her sound worse. “I…”
Thea met her father’s eyes. “I have no excuse,” she admitted, unable to think of any explanation that wouldn’t make her throat close up, whether from a lie or from speaking of Damon.
She hated this. She couldn’t even truthfully promise it wouldn’t happen again. Everyone must think she had run off or hidden during a battle. A sick churn started deep in her stomach, bringing the taste of bile.
“Unacceptable,” her father said, his deep voice rumbling with disapproval.
Thea tried to keep her face impassive. She didn’t know how to make this right.
“I wish I could explain it.” She met her father’s eyes again, waiting, hoping he would remember that she had always been ready to put herself at risk to defend her fellow Sylvans, and that she had never before shied from a fight.
But she could see the distrust in his eyes and knew she had lost something important.
Tordon stepped forward, his calm voice breaking the tension.
“We were all worried, but it sounds as if you are not sure what happened, either. Perhaps some enemy magic was at fault here. There are strange things afoot. Scuccas still roam the forest, though they have no master. The Skrattis no longer wait for a full moon. We must stand together against this threat.”
Thea nodded, grateful that he’d stuck his neck out for her.
Her father directed his next words at the rest of the assembled Huntsmen. “These attacks are escalating. It all points to a potential strike at Scarhamm. I need everyone on duty tonight.” His eyes met Thea’s, his voice lowering to a near whisper. “Consider this your last chance to redeem yourself.”
Tibald’s tone was pragmatic. “We will need everyone to be out in the forest tonight.”
Cassia stepped forward, her wings catching sunlight. “I can scout by air.”
“Cass,” Enora said, pausing a moment before adding, “you should invite Zeru to patrol with us.”
“What?” Thea blurted, turning to her sister in shock. “Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Enora said, her expression making it clear she was still angry at Thea. “He has wings! And the Dracu have a talent for stealth.”
“I don’t think we need him,” Thea replied, her back stiffening. Though Zeru had given her no reason to dislike him, she didn’t trust him. Everyone else seemed willing to overlook how he’d abducted Cassia to steal her ring, and when he couldn’t take it from her, he had found a way into her heart.
“You can take your hand off your sword, Thea,” Cassia said, her expression annoyed.
Thea relaxed a fraction. “We have many talented Huntsmen who can move with great stealth,” she said.
“Burke will be with you,” the king added, as if Thea was worried about being protected rather than the whole patrol being betrayed by an Azpian. She couldn’t believe their father agreed this was a good idea. Her eyes went to Burke, who gave her a shiny grin.
Tibald frowned. “Get some sleep. We meet here after the evening meal. And for Noctua’s sake, wear your darkest gear and quietest footwear. Burke, I can hear the squeak of your new leather boots a mile away. You’re going to alert the Skrattis the moment you step outside the gates.”
“Not that bad,” Burke muttered, but he dipped his head and stalked off, presumably to spend a few hours softening the leather.
Enora turned to Thea, her expression unreadable.
“I’ll see you tonight. Don’t run off this time, hmm?
” Before Thea could reply, she had turned and was striding toward the fortress.
A mixture of regret and anger stabbed Thea in the chest, her sister’s disdain unfair but understandable since Thea could explain nothing about her disappearance during the fight.
Cassia stayed behind, waiting until Thea finally sighed and looked at her. “You know you can tell us anything, don’t you, Thea?”
Thea tried to smile. “Thank you, Cass.”
But her stomach twisted at the knowledge that she couldn’t. And that even Cassia would likely be angry when Thea abandoned her patrol again tonight to go to Damon’s dance.