Chapter 27
Tristan disappears for hours at a time, only to resurface with dead rabbits in tow, like he’s simply gone to the market. We roast his catch over whatever measly fire we can manage to make from the damp sticks and logs of the forest.
When we eat, hot juices drip down our chins and all sense of propriety vanishes as if the wilds are turning us into one of their own. As if the storied fae have already claimed us, we just don’t know it yet.
“Just stay on the path that heads north,” Tristan says, before he vanishes into the trees again. “I’ll catch up with you.” He seems at ease in this place of mystery, somehow always finding his way back to us.
But I’m not like Tristan, at ease beneath the looming arch of the trees.
This forest unsettles me. There’s magic here, but I can’t understand it, either because it’s ancient and we’ve forgotten the language, or because it was never meant for people at all.
It’s a magic left behind by the creatures from old stories—the fae who once roamed and ruled these lands thousands of years ago.
The forest feels infinite, the trees endless, the landscape unbroken.
Autumn leaves fall steadily around us, raining down like gentle fire in shades of crimson, gold, and rust. Not for the first time, I wonder if we’ve wandered into an enchanted wood, the kind that curses its visitors to walk its paths forever.
Up ahead, the sound of trickling water dances through the trees. I pause, listening closely.
Hunter stops too. “I hear it.” His face breaks into a wide grin. “We can refill our water stores.” He taps his near-empty waterskin where it hangs over one shoulder. “And I wouldn’t say no to a bath.” He side-eyes me, his face twinkling with mischief.
“I’ve nearly forgotten what it’s like to feel clean.”
A fine layer of road dust clings to every inch of me, mingling with the grime of travel.
I haven’t washed my dress since the palace, but we don’t have time to dry clothes on a line—and walking in soaked fabric would surely lead to hypothermia.
Still, it would be nice to rinse the parts of me exposed to the elements.
I’m suddenly overcome by the urge to scoop water over my face.
“Let’s go.” I lead the way off the path, toward the sound of water.
Just off the road, we find a break in the trees. A small pool glistens there, ringed with mossy boulders and a pebbled shore. A narrow fountain trickles from a crack between two stones, cascading into the still water below.
Hunter wastes no time. He shrugs off his cloak and jerkin, just like we used to at the river as children. Then his shirt. I try not to stare as he lifts it over his head, the lean muscles of his stomach tightening with the motion.
“What are you doing?” I try not to laugh.
His skin is covered in gooseflesh as he rubs his arms for warmth. “What does it look like?” He grins, hopping on one foot as he pulls off a shoe.
I think he’s joking until he drops his breeches. A tiny squeak escapes me as I cover my eyes, laughing outright now.
“Oh, please. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” His voice is light with amusement.
“There’s a big difference between swimming together as children and you stripping naked as a fully grown man.”
I peek between my fingers.
He has a wicked grin on his face. “A big difference, huh?” He winks.
I grab one of his shoes and chuck it at him. He dodges and takes off toward the water, giving me a full view of his—admittedly—gorgeous rear. Then he leaps from the nearest boulder and disappears into the pool.
I’m so surprised I run up to the rocky shore, my mouth hanging open. When he resurfaces and sees my expression, he laughs so hard I worry he might drown.
“It’s not funny, Hunter! You’ll catch your death!” Even as I say it, an autumn breeze blows open my red cloak, making me shiver.
“The water’s warm!” He splashes in the pool like a puppy in a lake. “There must be an underground spring feeding it.” Then he dives back under.
I kneel on a flat boulder and reach forward to test the water.
He’s right, it’s not exactly warm, but it’s certainly not cold.
I cup my hands and splash my face. The sigh that escapes me is genuine.
I unbuckle my cloak and lay it over a stone, then roll up my sleeves and start scrubbing my skin in earnest.
Hunter paddles over to me, then folds his arms on top of the stone to hold himself in place. “You really should get in here with me, Sienna. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity. When will you ever get the chance to swim in a warm pond in Korrigan Forest again?”
“I think I can live without it.” I flick water in his direction. “I’d rather not freeze to death when I inevitably have to get out again.”
Hunter grimaces at the reminder and sinks a little lower into the pool. “You know, I always knew you were smarter than me.”
I laugh. “Smarter, no. More cautious, definitely.”
He leans toward me and whispers, “Also more stinky.” He pushes off the stone and tries to swim away, but I splash water in his face before he gets too far.
“Even without a bath, I’m half as smelly as you!” I yell after him.
He sticks out his tongue and continues paddling in circles around the pool. For one glorious moment, I let myself pretend that we are just two people playing in a forest pond. I forget that we’re journeying north with a Wolf. That we’re fugitives from the king. That we’re being hunted.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch movement on the far side of the pool. Lily pads sway in the ripples Hunter leaves as he swims in slow circles, the white flowers bobbing with each small wave.
But there’s something else.
Farther out, beneath the shifting surface and drifting weeds, something pale flickers just below the waterline. I squint, then rise, stepping carefully from stone to stone as I make my way around the edge of the pool.
There, tangled in the reeds, something moves.
For a moment, I think it’s silk—just fabric caught among the water lilies.
But then I see the curve of a shoulder and the sweep of long hair, fanned out like spilled ink.
The rocks keep me from getting closer, but as I lean forward and the light shifts, I see it clearly.
A body floats among the reeds.
“Hunter!” I yell.
He pivots, looking toward me in alarm. “What is it?”
“A woman.” I point. “In the lily pads.”
She floats face-up. Her pink gown billows around her like she died in the midst of a graceful dance.
Her face is peaceful, serene. There’s no sign of bloating or decay, so she can’t have died long ago.
But what was she doing this deep in Korrigan Forest, presumably alone?
And how did she drown in such a small pool?
Hunter swims toward us. Within moments, he finds her.
He pulls her gently from the reeds, the water lilies tugging at her hair as if reluctant to let her go.
He carries her to the shallows, where I splash forward, all thoughts of staying dry forgotten.
I kneel in the water, pebbles pressing into my knees.
“Is she alive?” Hunter asks, his brow furrowed in confusion. “She doesn’t look dead.”
He’s right. Her skin still holds a flush, her cheeks frozen in a delicate blush. When I glance at her hands, her fingers aren’t blue from death or cold. They’re just pale and slender, like crescent moons.
A horrible thought crosses my mind.
“Enchanted?” I ask, like a child lost in one of the library’s storybooks.
Thankfully, Hunter doesn’t scoff. He spent enough time reading those stories with me when we were young.
“I don’t know.” The upper half of his body is exposed to the chill air and he shivers. “We can’t leave her in here. It’s not decent.”
He looks over my shoulder, back toward the shore. “Would you …?”
I look back at his pile of clothes. He’s still completely naked under the water.
“Right. Of course.” I run back to the large rock and toss Hunter his breeches.
He catches them in one hand, then puts them on under the surface of the water. They’ll be soaked for hours, but there’s not much to be done about that.
Partially clothed, he grabs one of the woman’s arms. I reach for the other and we start to pull her out of the water. She’s heavy with her water-logged dress, heavier than she should be. I look down to see if she’s caught on something.
Open eyes stare back at me.
The dead woman is grinning. Only, it’s not the grin of a beautiful maiden. Her teeth are far too sharp, and there are far too many of them. As water runs off her skin, her flesh begins to change, turning gray and scaly.
She’s a fae. Here, in Llwyn.
I scream and drop her arm. Hunter turns to me in alarm, but it’s too late.
The creature has fully transformed. The long golden hair and pink dress are gone, replaced by a monstrous body that’s not quite human and not quite fish.
Her long, scaled tail thrashes the water where her legs used to be, and her once-delicate hands have become webbed fingers tipped with filthy claws.
She grabs Hunter’s arm and twists toward the pool with terrifying strength, dragging him toward the deep. He loses his footing and crashes onto the stones. The creature clings to him with an iron grip as he struggles to break free.
“Let him go!” I scream, leaping into the water. “Hunter!”
His words are garbled as the creature pulls him under the water.
I grab the knife from my boot and dive in after them. The pool is much deeper than I expected, its bottom lost in murky green darkness. There’s just enough light to make out the creature thrashing as it drags Hunter deeper.
Something hard knocks into my thigh as I swim toward them. My heart lurches and I turn, afraid it’s another monster. It isn’t, but my relief is short-lived. A human skull drifts past, its mouth gaping in a silent scream. This isn’t just an enchanted pool, it’s a hidden grave.