26
Never fall into the hands of a Sylvan.
They will never let you go.
—G AXIX, D RACU PHILOSOPHER
Y OU’RE NOT COMING WITH ME,” C ASSIA SAID IN HER steeliest voice.
Her back was to Zeru, her toes curled into the reeds at the edge of the riverbank. One last moment of calm before the storm. He stood a few feet away, leaning his back against a tree as he waited. She needed a minute in the place that had been a haven to her after the worst days of her life. She hadn’t noticed before, but there were fewer blood trees in this area of Thirstwood, as if whatever magic that had turned the ones near Scarhamm hadn’t reached this far. Maybe that was why she’d found it so peaceful.
“I am going with you,” Zeru said, his tone amused but implacable. “I appreciate your attempt to sound stern, though.”
When she turned to look at him, his arms were folded over his chest, and he wore a smirk that should have made her angry. Instead, a rush of feelings tightened her chest, and she wanted to go back into his arms.
“When we get there,” she said, stepping away from the rushing river, “you’ll have to hide nearby. If you fly too close to the fortress, the archers will take you down.”
He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Give me some credit, Sylvan.”
“Don’t underestimate them,” she warned.
“I never do.” His jaw hardened as he straightened from his lounging posture. “Your archers have killed too many of my people.”
She turned away, a sting in her chest. All the old animosities were still there between them. She couldn’t forget that.
A heartbeat later, Zeru grabbed her hand, sending a pulse of warmth through her veins. “I’m sorry. That’s the old bitterness. I don’t blame you for their deaths, any more than I want you to blame me for the Huntsmen I’ve killed.”
She nodded, the ache in her chest easing. “I understand.”
He stepped closer, putting his hands on her shoulders as he looked her up and down, an inscrutable expression on his lean face. “What about you? You look… different now. What if the archers don’t recognize you?”
“That might be all for the better,” she said, taking a breath, her jaw feeling tight as she spoke the words. “My father banished me. He told me never to set foot in Scarhamm again.”
His eyelids fluttered, and he shook his head. “What do you mean? Why?”
She forced herself to tell him. “He asked the Court Seer for the name of the person who had warned the Dracu about our attack.”
Zeru’s skin lost some of its sun-kissed tone. “You were banished because of me?”
“No,” she corrected, “because I betrayed my father’s trust. I don’t regret it. He would have killed your parents, and their whole settlement besides.” She hesitated. “I also told him I would never use the ring to hurt anyone again. Probably worse than the other betrayal in his eyes.”
“Did you vow it?” Zeru asked, his face ashen.
She shook her head. “No.”
He let out a breath and his shoulders relaxed. “Good. You need to be able to use the ring to defend yourself. It might be the only thing that can harm Selkolla’s scuccas. That could be why she sent you to Welkincaster, out of the way.”
Cassia realized she hadn’t explained that part to Zeru. “That could be part of it. But she also hoped you’d figure out how to take the ring. Then she was going to steal it from you.”
Zeru’s face darkened. “I should never have trusted her.”
“What matters is stopping her now.” With one last look around to memorize this haven in Thirstwood, she said, “We should go.”
In moments, they were airborne, Zeru with his dark, clawed wings and Cassia with hers covered in velvety gold feathers. The sun was in the west as they flew side by side over the forest, the prevailing wind at their backs helping speed their flight. Zeru knew the way, which was good because she’d been in no state to pay attention to direction when she’d fled. During her first flight, she’d taken breaks, stopping to rest whenever she needed. Now her wings ached, but she didn’t want to waste a moment. She needed to get to Scarhamm. She tried not to let herself think about how bad things could be.
As they flew, Zeru shared what had happened after he’d taken his parents to safety. He had been able to see Cassia when Veleda had scried their location in the Cryptlands, a hazy image but clear enough to suspect she was near. Later, he’d heard her call for help, but by the time he’d reached Selkolla’s room, she’d been gone. After tracking the Seer in the woods, he’d found her and a legion of her scuccas attacking the Sylvan forces as they tried to retreat toward Scarhamm. He’d flown ahead to warn the Huntsmen guards, but the archers fired on him, and he didn’t know if they’d heard his warning. That’s when he’d left to search for Cassia.
“I found that if I concentrated, I could sense you in some way—I somehow knew which direction you’d gone. And when I touched the amulet, the feeling was stronger. I could only fly at night, though, so it took a few days to find you.
“What about you?” he asked, a hardness to his voice. “I want to know what happened to you, Cassia.”
Where to start? Taking a fortifying breath, she said, “My father killed Voz.”
There was a tense silence before Zeru said, “I didn’t think that was possible. The Vozarra are spirits.”
She shook her head, telling him what had happened to Voz.
Zeru’s face was a stiff mask as he listened. “I know the king is your father,” he said with rough loathing, “but if it were anyone else, I would swear vengeance against him for destroying that loyal creature.”
“I know.” She wanted vengeance herself. The thought of what her father had taken from her made her want to put a torch to his entire fortress, leaving his throne on a pile of ashes. But that would only hurt her people.
“What about the Seer?” he asked softly. “Did she take your memory?”
“She used a spell and ordered me to forget. She wanted to use me to bring her moss creatures back to life. She thinks the Solis Gemma is the key to doing that.” Her voice grew choked as she told him about Selkolla’s attempt to kill her so she could make her obedient.
“She put a knife… in your heart ?” Zeru demanded, his voice more wrathful and hate-filled than she’d ever heard it.
Cassia glanced over at him to see a face she would never want to encounter in battle, the very image of a violent killer. Rather than disturbing her, his protectiveness warmed her.
“She had to stop my heart to gain control,” she explained. “It worked. I obeyed her until she ordered me to kill my father.” She paused to swallow, not wanting to think about what could have happened. “Even though I didn’t know who I was, even though I wanted to follow her orders, I couldn’t do it.” She could still feel the bitterness of the shame she’d tasted in that moment when she’d thought she’d failed her master.
“Of course not,” Zeru said in a scoffing tone. “You wouldn’t.”
Contrarily, she found herself irritated. “No one thinks I can be ruthless.”
His low chuckle was insulting. “Not if they know you.”
She glared down at the endless sea of trees below. “I don’t think you realize how much that annoys me.”
“What?” He looked over at her in surprise. “I’m not saying you wouldn’t be able to defend yourself. But to take the life of someone you love? Never. It goes against your nature. You would never take a life without the absolute need to do so. And even then, I don’t know if you could.”
How his opinion of her had changed.
“I did take lives,” she reminded him. “I used my ring, and Azpians died because of me.” A surge of sick shame hollowed out her chest. So much death and loss. And it might not have been necessary if her father had been at all interested in seeking peace. If only someone had stood up to him, questioned his decisions. But no one questioned the Sylvan king.
“I know you did,” Zeru said in a somber tone. “But I also know how much you hated the role your father forced on you. And that you won’t be his Deathringer anymore.” He paused. “What are we going to do about Selkolla?”
“I’ve been thinking about it,” she said. “I suspect the ring will work against the scuccas. But how many at once? Once I use the ring, I can’t use it again right away.”
“We may need to try something less expected.” Zeru looked thoughtful. “What about the bargain that binds Selkolla: a safe haven in return for her vow not to harm anyone in the Cryptlands? It was made with blood, powerful and binding. Selkolla can’t harm anyone who is under the queen’s rule.”
“Hmm.” Cassia considered this. “So, the Seer can’t go after Azpians.” She paused, thinking back to what the Seer had told her before she’d tried to transform her, then shook her head. “She says my father killed her moss folk in the Ancient Wars. She’s out for revenge on him and his people.”
“I don’t think that’s all she wants,” Zeru said, the intensity of his gaze sharpened with suspicion. “She has too many of those creatures if she’s only after Scarhamm, though the queen won’t move against her without proof. After all, the scuccas could win her the war against the Sylvans.”
“There’s something to this,” Cassia said, her mind working at the problem. “We have to find the right way to use it.”
They flew in silence for a while, Zeru’s hand reaching out for hers. She smiled, clasped his fingers. Seeing him as she did now, getting used to the connection between them, was both exhilarating and overwhelming. Feelings kept rushing up to twist her stomach or grab her heart. She could sense by the way he kept looking at her that he was absorbing it, too.
Night fell, but with the moon so bright and her improved vision, Cassia could see as well as if it were day. When they stopped to rest, Zeru took her by the shoulders and stared.
“You are so beautiful, Cassia,” he said.
“Zeru,” she said simply, and slid her arms around his waist, gasping when his lips came to her neck.
“No time,” she said, more to convince herself than him.
He sighed, pressed her lips with his, and nodded. As she followed him into the sky once more, she wondered if they would ever have the time together that they craved.
As the wind caressed her face and Zeru’s wings kept time with hers, plans started to form in Cassia’s mind. Plans that would turn her father’s world upside down as effectively as anything an enemy would devise, but that would also benefit her people.
“I have an idea,” she said finally. She wondered if Zeru would think she’d lost her senses. “It involves your queen.”
His brows rose. “How?”
“It will take negotiation. And your influence.” She felt a spark of mischievous satisfaction as she added, “And… well… lying.”
His lips curved up, his eyes sparkling. “You have my attention. How do you propose to lie?”
She smiled at him, struck by how much she enjoyed seeing him happy. “I won’t. You will.”
“Ah.” He grinned. “Far less complicated.”
“You haven’t heard my plan yet.”
She told him as the sun rose over the trees, painting the canopy a fiery orange, much like the small flame that had been ignited in her mind. Someone had to stand up to the Sylvan king. It might as well be her.
When she was finished, Zeru flew beside her in silence for several minutes. “I’m trying to decide if you are brave or just very, very naive. I confess I’m leaning toward the latter.”
“You’re probably right.” She looked up at the clouds, wondering if any might be welkins. “But I don’t see any other way.”
“Neither do I,” he replied soberly. “But I’ll be surprised if we make it to step two.”
“One at a time,” she said. “First, I have to face my father.”
When they drew close to Scarhamm, Cassia chose a spot she deemed safe for Zeru, finding a break in the trees large enough for them both to land. As he touched ground beside her, she said, “This is as close as you can go before you risk being met with one of the regular patrols.”
He looked like he wanted to argue, but then seemed to think better of it. Stepping close, he squeezed her hands and kissed her forehead. “Tread carefully, katra .”
She gave him a quizzical look. “What does that mean?”
“It’s an Old Azpian word,” he said, looking away, his jaw tense. “I’ll tell you what it means if we survive step three.”
“Step one,” she negotiated. “Or tell me now.”
His eyes met hers with amusement. “Two, then.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” When she went to kiss his cheek, he turned his head and met her lips, making her dizzy for a minute. His hand stayed on her back, a desperate pressure, as if he couldn’t get close enough to her. It wasn’t easy to pull away, but she did.
“Stay safe, Dracu.” Before she could be tempted to linger, she launched herself up, and didn’t look back as she gained air.
As she flew closer to the fortress, she found the perimeter changed beyond recognition. The earth was scorched and the trees blackened, their burned branches like bones in an ossuary. Zeru had described things as he’d last seen them, a panicked clash with scuccas in the forest nearby. The stone walls were intact, but there was no sign of the creatures. What if Scarhamm had already fallen, and Selkolla was inside its walls? But at that moment, one of the Huntsman archers came into view, and Cassia breathed again.
It was odd to see her home from a new vantage point, her view encompassing the fortress, walls, and trees that grew in the garden. It all looked so much smaller from the air, reminding her that there weren’t so very many Sylvans left. Aside from Scarhamm, there were only a smattering of villages. If Selkolla won this fight, the forest folk would be effectively wiped from the land.
It was beyond strange to see the Huntsmen archers aiming at her. She was careful to stay outside their range.
“Identify yourself,” one of the Huntsmen shouted from a watchtower. With a quick glance, she saw that none of them had been part of the Cryptlands raid, so none of them would have seen her in this form.
“A friend,” she called back. “I seek an audience with the king.” When no reply came, she added, “I have valuable information about your enemies.”
“Who are you and where do you come from?” another demanded. “I’ve never seen your kind.”
She considered how to answer. She could say she was a Zerian, but the word wouldn’t mean anything to them. She couldn’t admit her true identity. Many of the other Huntsmen had heard her father banish her, and the order must have circulated by now. Thankfully, her lighter hair, the gold flecks on her skin, and her wings must make her look different.
“I’ve come from far away,” she said, which was more or less true. “I’ve come to help. I will make vows not to harm you. If you let me come closer, we can speak more.”
The First Huntsman, Alof, appeared at the top of the ladder, with Burke following him. Cassia’s shoulders relaxed a fraction seeing they’d survived the scucca attack. They halted and stared for half a heartbeat before Alof drew his weapon.
“She’s Selkolla’s creature,” he said, using his sword to point. “She attacked the king. If she comes any closer, fire.”
Cassia stared at the fortress. How could she talk to her father if they wouldn’t even let her come close?
Just then, a silvery head appeared at the top of the watchtower steps. Enora was dressed for battle in her leather armor, with knives strapped in a line that bisected her chest.
Her gasp was loud enough to hear at a distance. “Cassia!”
Even as the Huntsmen kept their bows trained on her, Cassia had to smile. Of course her sister would recognize her no matter what form she was in.
“Any of you fires on my sister,” Enora said, “be prepared to put an arrow through me, too. And Thea. And even Rozie. Those who harm one of us earns the vengeance of all. So unless you want to sleep with one eye open the rest of your lives, I suggest you stand down.”
Cassia felt tears rise behind her eyes at her sister’s protectiveness. “I think they get it, Enna.” A nickname she hadn’t used for her sister since childhood.
The bows were lowered, and Alof nodded his assent. Cassia remained watchful as she approached, but none of the Huntsmen dared defy Enora’s threatening order. Alighting on the watchtower, she furled her wings and looked at the familiar faces of people she had known her whole life.
Enora rushed to embrace her, then pulled back to look at her wings. “What in the nine realms of the Netherwhere did you do to yourself?” Without letting go, she turned an angry face on the Huntsmen. “Keep your weapons down!”
“Your father’s orders were clear,” Alof said, though he didn’t look pleased about it. “If Cassia returns, she is to be turned away by force, if necessary.” He looked at her, his eyes regretful.
Cassia’s heart turned to stone. She’d made the mistake of neglecting to extract a bargain from the Huntsmen not to harm her. They could slaughter her right now.
Enora put herself in front of Cassia, her lean, muscular arms spread to make her body as large a barrier as possible.
“Enna, give me a chance to explain,” she said, laying her hand on her sister’s shoulder. “Let them decide.”
“As long as they decide correctly,” Enora said, clear menace in her tone.
Cassia turned and met their eyes, each in turn. How could she explain that she’d been under the Seer’s control but no longer? “When you saw me before, the witch had stolen my memory,” she said. “She tried to make me into one of her scuccas, but somehow it didn’t work, and I was transformed into… this. I didn’t want to hurt any of you. I escaped her, and my memories have returned. Under the dirt and blood and some strange new wings, I’m the same person you knew.”
As they hesitated, Burke cleared his throat. “If she were still Selkolla’s creature, I don’t think she’d be asking us to trust her. She’d been trying to tear our heads off with those claws. Scuccas are mindless. They no longer know who they are. Cassia seems like herself to me.”
Alof’s lips curved up in a barely perceptible smile.
Cassia looked at Burke with gratitude for coming to her aid.
Alof stepped closer. “We still can’t let you inside the walls. It’ll be our heads if we do.”
“He won’t know it’s me if you don’t tell him,” Cassia said, realizing she had gained an inch or two of height in her new form and could now see over her sister’s shoulder. “None of you recognized me, after all. Let me talk to him briefly and I’ll go.” Her lips curved up, hoping they could see it was her, the same person they’d always known. “If he asks you later, say you didn’t recognize me. It’s not a lie.”
“It’s a bent truth,” Enora said, her eyebrows raised as she turned her head to level a side-eye. “Not like you to be dishonest, Cass.” She huffed a laugh. “Not like any of us.”
“Well, maybe it’s like me, now.”
“How do you know he won’t recognize you?” Burke asked, his eyes wide as he looked her over. “Different as you are, you are his daughter.”
Her smile soured. “But he never really saw me.”
“If you’re wrong, it’ll be your death,” he replied, his eyes boring into hers. “And none of us want that.” His jaw tightened. “Despite what you’ve done.”
She dipped her chin in understanding. “I’ll take the risk. This is my chance to atone.” After Selkolla hadn’t been able to make her hurt her father, she should have turned on the Seer and fought. Instead, she’d run. For that, she had to make things right.
Burke took a step closer. “It wasn’t right what you did. Warning the Dracu about our attack.”
Enora tensed, but Alof put up a hand to stay them both. “We hope you had good reasons for what you did, Cassia.”
She blinked, a little shocked at Alof considering that she might have. “I did. Though I don’t know if you’d agree with them.” She looked at each Huntsman in turn, willing them to listen. “Burke, Alof. All of you. This has to stop. The war with the Dracu, with the Azpians, has to end now. We have no chance if we fight each other. Selkolla is the bigger threat. If we can’t accept that, we’ve lost.”
The Huntsmen were silent for a minute. Uncertainty wound in Cassia’s belly like a coiling root.
Finally, Alof spoke. “What you’re saying is hard to accept, and we have good reason not to trust you.”
Cassia’s chest tightened, expecting them to dismiss her the way her father always had. But Alof added, “But my gut tells me that you believe in what you’re saying. If I dismiss it, we could all pay the price. And since you are the one with the most knowledge of the scucca threat, that’s worth considering.”
Relief poured through her, leaving her lightheaded. First Burke, now Alof. They were listening. “Before I go to my father, tell me what’s happened over the past few days. I know Selkolla brought her scuccas to attack.”
“They’re gone during the day,” Alof said, “and come back at nightfall.” He cleared his throat. “It might look safe now, but don’t step outside the walls. I’m glad you didn’t have to approach on foot.”
“Why?”
He indicated the perimeter with a jerk of his chin. “Selkolla spelled the ground to be soft when a Sylvan steps on it. It… swallows anyone who tries to leave. We sent out scouts and almost lost two men. The wards are the only thing keeping us safe. Veleda is refreshing the magic constantly. She’s barely slept.”
“I assume you used fire on the scuccas.” Cassia gazed sadly at the blackened area of forest. She could imagine the horrifying scene: burning arrows setting the scuccas ablaze and the trees catching fire.
“We had no choice,” Alof said, anger and regret clear in his voice. “There had to be a thousand of them. We cut them apart and they”—he made a gesture in the air—“simply knit themselves back together.”
Burke grunted in disgust. “Those things are just… wrong .”
“Unnatural,” Alof agreed. “Fire was the only way to keep them off. But we hated having to use it. The trees…” He stared at the forest with a shake of his head. “They gave their lives for Scarhamm.”
Sylvans grieved when a single healthy tree was lost, let alone hundreds. “You stopped the spread of the fire, though,” she pointed out.
Burke’s eyes warmed. “The river nixies came to our aid, using water from the Scar to put out the flames. But what about next time? We can’t keep burning our forest. And Veleda is worried about the full moon. She’s not sure her spells can hold the wards.”
“What can you tell us that will help us fight these creatures?” Alof asked.
She held up her hand to show the ring. “I have reason to believe the Solis Gemma could work on them. Sunlight weakens them, which is probably why they don’t attack by day.”
“Hope you’re correct,” he said. “Because the full moon is tonight.”