THIRTY-FOUR #3
“I won’t be long,” I tell him. I want to know what he thinks of the queen’s summons.
Although, honestly, there are more important things on my mind.
I still need to decide what I’m going to say to Kieren tonight.
There are so many things I never got the chance to tell him.
So many things have happened since he died.
Isidore is quiet, fidgeting with her skirt as we stroll through the yard. “So,” she says, finally breaking the silence, “what’s going on between you two?”
I raise an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m not a child.” She rolls her eyes. “He can’t stop looking at you.”
So much for hiding it. “He feels a duty to protect me.”
“Maybe I can find someone here interested in protecting me.” She scans a group of soldiers playing a round of Liar’s Hand near the barracks.
I grab her sleeve and steer her away. “Try again.”
“I really came to see you,” she says as we edge closer to the watchtower.
I snort. “And the plethora of soldiers has nothing to do with it?”
“Okay. I mostly came to see you,” she admits with a sheepish smile. “It’s just nice to get out of the house. Broderic says we shouldn’t go into the village.”
“There’s always the fields.” And plenty of work to do.
“He says it’s not appropriate for patrons to lower themselves,” she explains.
I slow to a stop. “He said what? That doesn’t sound like Broderic.”
“It’s her,” Isidore says glumly, her shoulders sagging. “He hasn’t been the same since we came back from Wintour. Then he met her, and it got worse.”
But it started with me. Guilt twists in my gut. I chose not to come home. I left Isidore to clean up the mess here. It might have kept my family safe, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt them.
“That’s why he doesn’t want me to come here. He’s worried I’ll meet a soldier and marry him.” Her gaze skips back to where the soldiers are laughing over their cards. He might have a point.
“Is that what you want?”
She sighs. “Part of me. Just to get away from this place like you did.”
“You can’t get married before your Kindling,” I remind her.
“Why? Because I might be marked by Ravenell?” She spins to face me. “I wouldn’t mind, you know. It gave you a way out.”
I want to tell her about the poisoning. About the assassins. But I change the subject. “How …” I take a steadying breath and force myself to ask about what really matters. “How is Andry handling it?”
Isidore’s throat slides, her eyes suddenly watery. “Not well. I don’t think any of us are.”
“Even Broderic?” I can’t hide my surprise after his behavior this morning. Not with his new fiancée and the clock ticking down toward a wedding.
“He gave all your things away. All the things Kieren left behind,” Isidore whispers, glancing around to make sure no one is near. “He wouldn’t let Andry keep anything.”
Somehow that doesn’t surprise me, considering Broderic is acting like I betrayed him. Like I had no right to come back here, especially for Kieren.
“I wish Kieren would have taken me with him,” Isidore admits, and my heart stops.
“That didn’t end well,” I say in a soft voice. She wasn’t there. She didn’t watch Kieren’s blood seep into the dirt.
Isidore toys with something in her pocket. “Maybe it would have ended differently if I’d been there.”
“You can ruin your life with maybes,” I warn her.
Her head drops, black hair spilling over her shoulders. She finally looks up with tears in her eyes. “He never told me.” She pulls her hand out of her pocket. Kieren’s letter is clenched in her fist. “If he had … I know Broderic would never allow it.”
“Void Broderic.” I wrap an arm around her as if I can shield her from this, even as my heart breaks, too.
She collapses against my shoulder. “I knew he cared. I think I might have, too.” Each word comes out as a sob. “But I was so, so stupid and silly …”
“I can’t stop thinking about everything he had left to do. To see. He had plans,” I say, holding her. So many plans. All gone.
She lifts her head from my shoulder, her cheeks wet. “I want to come to his Evensong, Arden. But Broderic won’t let me.”
I grit my teeth before muttering, “Void Broderic twice.”
Isidore lets out a shaky laugh, and we hug again. Leave it to our starsforsaken asshole of a brother to make us closer than we’ve been in years.
I’m about to step back when a low growl rolls through the trees, close enough that I swear the ground vibrates beneath my feet. Isidore stiffens in my arms, but I look toward the sound and find we’re only steps from the forest. My head snaps back to look at the watchtower, and I find trees.
“Shit.” We’ve wandered too far. The area is more like a small copse than the actual Cinderwald, the new trees planted at the edge bursting with spring buds, but my pulse hammers like it’s trying to warn me as another growl, deeper this time, answers me. Something is coming after us.
Isidore trembles violently, pulling away like she might bolt in blind panic.
“Don’t move,” I warn her. When the next growl rumbles through the trees, there’s no mistaking the direction. “When I say, run. Don’t stop until you see someone with a sword.”
Isidore nods frantically, though I’m not sure she actually hears me.
My eyes fix where a shifting shadow moves between the tree trunks, and a branch snaps, the sound like a bone splitting.
“Run,” I whisper and shove my sister in the direction of the outpost behind us, reaching for the sword sheathed at my back.
She stumbles, her eyes widening with fear as she sees where we are.
I draw my blade, stepping between her and the belly of the forest. Two eyes glow blue in the dark, and the shadow of an enormous wolf steps out from the trees.
Isidore screams and bolts toward the outpost, branches clawing at her dress as she pushes through them.
I plant my feet, raising the sword between the creature and my sister.
The ground trembles as it pads slowly toward me, like it knows I can’t afford to run.
Not if I want her to escape. Its shoulders nearly reach my waist, thick muscles rippling beneath its silver fur and curved horns sweeping back from its skull.
The wolf is a lot bigger than the ones mounted on the wall at Miradores.
Panic shoots through me, but I push it away, gripping the hilt of my sword to steady myself.
“Easy,” I murmur, feeling ridiculous as the word leaves my mouth. But I don’t want to kill it.
If I even can …
The wolf’s ears flick forward like it understands me.
“That’s right,” I breathe. “I’m not a threat.”
A warning bell rings out through the yard, and the wolf hesitates.
But I don’t lower my sword. For one reckless second, I see what I’m leaving behind me.
Bishop’s rare smiles. Taliesin running his mouth with a grin.
Vessica’s reluctant laughs. The way Hadrian snorts when I break him with a joke.
How Shea and Breccan giggle, encouraged by Lenora.
My life in Vennaro. The one I didn’t plan on having, full of so much joy.
I took it for granted, and now I might lose it.
I shove the longing down and grit my teeth.
Squaring my shoulders, I raise my sword.
The fear burns off, leaving anger in its place.
Anger at my brother for being a dick and this fucking giant wolf determined to eat me for dinner.
And more than a bit of rage aimed at myself for wandering too close to the forest in the first place.
“I won’t hurt you,” I say evenly, determination threading the words, “if you don’t hurt me.”
“Arden!” Bishop’s shout cuts across the clearing.
I ignore the surge of relief. I can’t afford to think I’m safe.
“Little busy right now!” I shout back.
The massive horned wolf crouches, preparing to spring, as if it senses time is running out.
Seven hells.
I grit my teeth, bracing for the pounce as wind rushes overhead. Wings brush my hair, and something lands on my shoulder with a loud screech.
The oscen’s claws dig into my skin. It followed me from Vennaro. Naturally.
I freeze. So does the wolf.
For a moment, nothing moves.
Then … the wolf lowers its head.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
And sinks to the ground, ears flattening in submission, its giant, curved horns grazing the grass.
“What are you?” I whisper to the bird as the wolf lies before me, its eyes fixed on where the oscen rests perched on my shoulder.
Bishop skids to a stop a few paces away, then stares.
He steps closer to me, and the beast growls softly.
Bishop’s lips curl like he might snarl back.
But the oscen angles its body, spreading its wings, and launches into the air with an echoing cry.
It soars deeper into the heart of the Cinderwald, and Bishop brings his sword up as the wolf rises.
At least we’ll be ripped to shreds together.
But it doesn’t even look at us as it turns and bounds back into the trees after the oscen. The forest swallows both, and my knees buckle.
Next to me, Bishop slowly lowers his sword. “What the fuck just happened?”
I stare at the place where the wolf disappeared.
“I have absolutely no idea.”
I turn to check on Isidore and go cold. The little copse of saplings is black as ash now, fused into the Cinderwald like the boundary between the two never existed at all. Right where I stood and let my anger take me.
The magic that’s ruined the forest didn’t do this.
I did.