Chapter 44 Rose
When Wren spotted Tor and Elske, she screamed. She staggered to her feet then froze mid-stride.
‘Wren?’ said Rose, anxiously, but Wren said nothing. She had gone perfectly still. Silent. Her eyes were wide with horror and fresh tears were streaming down her cheeks, but she could no longer speak. Rose knew that Oonagh was controlling her sister once more.
Rose whipped her head around, searching the battlefield for her ancestor. It didn’t take long to find out where she was. A hand fell heavy on Rose’s shoulder, familiar talon-sharp nails digging deep into her skin. She flinched as Oonagh dragged her to her feet then shoved her towards the trees. ‘Move,’ she hissed in Rose’s ear. ‘Or I’ll walk your sister right off that cliff.’
Rose had no choice but to obey. While Oonagh steered her into the forest, Wren trailed behind them, caught once more in a trance. Overhead, the Gevran nighthawks screeched and swooped along the cliffs, searching for Oonagh, but she paid them no mind. It seemed to Rose that she had surrendered all interest in the battle entirely.
The world darkened as they passed the treeline, leaving the war behind. Rose turned around, desperately looking for help. She spied Celeste fighting not far from the edge of the forest and for the briefest moment they locked eyes.
Celeste tried to come after Rose, but Oonagh was quicker. She cast a gust so fierce it bent the entire outer ring of the forest inwards, crushing the trees together until they formed an impenetrable wall. Their canopies became a dome, blocking out the last of the sunlight and sealing the twins – and their ancestor – inside.
They were well and truly trapped.
In the sudden silence, Rose reached for her sister’s hand. It was limp inside her own. Rose hoped Wren could still feel her touch. It was so dark now she could barely see a thing, but Oonagh ripped a branch from a nearby tree and set it alight. She brandished the torch, leading them into the heart of the forest.
Rose tried her best not to look down, knowing the horror she would see, but she couldn’t help it. There were bodies everywhere, soldiers and witches lying in pools of their own blood. The further they went, the more she saw.
Her eyes streamed with fresh grief, her heart aching so badly she could scarcely breathe. When she saw the same tears in her sister’s eyes, she squeezed her hand tighter, sharing in her pain. Rose wished more than anything that Wren would squeeze back.
‘I warned you not to fight,’ said Oonagh, kicking aside the body of a girl as though it were merely an exposed tree root. ‘You should have left your armies at home and surrendered yourselves. Surrendered your thrones. Instead, you chose to waste all these precious lives. These precious witches.’
Rose looked down at the girl’s body as she edged around it, recognizing the mass of sandy curls. It was Rowena. And there – barely a stone’s throw away from her best friend – was Bryony, lying motionless in the mulch. Rose trapped her whimper on the back of her hand. Beside her, Wren began to retch, her very soul revolting at the sight.
Rose was overcome by a burst of anger. ‘You hateful, wretched monster!’ she cried, suddenly remembering the dagger stowed inside her bodice. She reached for Daybreak. ‘You have made a mockery of this kingdom! Of everything the witches stand for!’
Oonagh turned sharply, backhanding Rose across the face. ‘Watch your tongue!’ she hissed, bringing the torch threateningly close. ‘This kingdom was mine long before it was yours.’
Rose spat out a glob of blood, weathering the sting. Oonagh grabbed her wrist, her nails digging in so Rose could not pull her dagger free. She shouted again, hoping to distract her ancestor before she spotted it glinting under the folds of her dress. ‘All this pain and suffering is your fault!’ She wasn’t just speaking for herself, but for Wren, who had lost her voice and her magic all because of Oonagh. ‘No matter what you do to me or my sister, this country will never be yours. Your beasts will tire. Your corpses will rot. Our armies will defeat them and then, when all is said and done, they will come for you, too!’
Oonagh snorted. ‘You foolish child. Don’t you understand? I don’t have to win this battle. I have no use for this kingdom’s cadavers. My soldiers are already dead. They have but one purpose. And that is to fight for as long as they can. I don’t care what happens to them after that.’
Rose glowered at her. ‘If you don’t care to win, then what is the point of all of this bloodshed and terror?’ she demanded. ‘Why kill anyone at all?’
‘Because a little blood sport is good for the soul.’ She turned her torch on Wren, who had grown so pale now she looked like a corpse. ‘Isn’t that right, little bird?’
Wren wasn’t able to respond but the glare she gave Oonagh was answer enough. The simple effort of it made Wren stumble on a branch. Rose caught her before she fell. ‘It’s all right,’ she whispered, even though this was the furthest they had ever been from all right. ‘I’ve got you. Lean on me.’
When they came upon the battle clearing, Rose found herself wishing for the darkness again. This part of the forest was strewn with so many bodies she didn’t know where to look. It was much brighter here, where thousands of spirit seeds had come together to grieve those that had fallen in battle. They floated above the clearing like a beautiful silver mist, casting their mournful glow upon the dead.
As Oonagh prodded the twins through the clearing, Rose heard weeping. The forest was in pain, the sound so real and haunting, it echoed the grief in her heart and the look on her sister’s face. Wren was so stricken by what she saw, she could barely walk, but every time she slowed, Oonagh struck her.
‘I’m here,’ said Rose, pulling her sister close, waiting for the right moment to strike. She only had one chance. ‘No matter what happens now, at least we’re together.’
‘That’s precisely the point,’ crowed Oonagh, stalking ahead to where the trees clustered around them again. ‘You see, the simple truth is, only two people must die today.’ She smirked at them over her shoulder. ‘Can you guess who those two people might be?’
Rose contemplated flinging Daybreak at the back of her head but she couldn’t risk letting go of Wren. Or missing. ‘Where are you taking us?’ she asked instead. The glowing seeds were following them through the trees. Rose sensed they wanted to help but they didn’t know how. Neither did she.
‘Haven’t you figured it out yet?’ taunted Oonagh. ‘We are going back to the very beginning.’
Rose frowned, glancing at Wren. She looked just as confused as Rose was. Oonagh called on her magic, dragging a howling wind through the forest. It drowned out the sound of its grief and scattered the glowing seeds. The trees bent backwards, clearing a pathway for them, and despite Rose’s hesitation, the gust quickened her steps, shoving both of them through the forest.
After what felt like forever, light began to filter through the trees. They had reached the other side of the Weeping Forest, where the setting sun painted the canopies amber and gold.
It was only then that Rose realized where they were going. Back to the beginning. Back to the grave of Ortha Starcrest, Oonagh’s twin sister. Back to the Mother Tree.
As they left the forest, Rose put her arm around Wren’s waist, touching her head lightly against her sister’s. Oonagh shoved them on, until all three of them stood before the Mother Tree. Only it didn’t look as it had before. Its mighty branches were drooping, its beautiful leaves all but shed, as though it had lost the strength to stand. Droplets of what looked like blood dripped from its skeleton and slid down the trunk, pooling on the ground below.
Oonagh tipped her head back, gazing up at the weeping tree. ‘My sister always had a bleeding heart. Some things never change. Even in death.’
Rose’s heart sank. Even the Mother Tree looked hopeless. Oonagh’s dark magic was destroying it, just as she would destroy Eana. She turned to Wren, seeing the same realization dawning in her sister’s eyes.
The Mother Tree was dying.
They had come to the end.