THIRTEEN THAROS
THIRTEEN
THAROS
We emerge from the bone hollows into a forest that feels tense, watchful.
The trees have drawn in on themselves, branches curled tight like fists waiting to strike.
The constant creaking of living wood has taken on a different quality—not the slow breathing I’ve grown accustomed to, but faster. More urgent.
A frightened forest is a dangerous one.
“This way.” I lead her through a gap in the undergrowth that only exists because I will it to exist. The briars open reluctantly, closing behind us with thorns that glisten dark in the filtered light.
“We need to circle around to the east. The Consortium will be focused on the main approach to the Heartgrove. They won’t expect an attack from behind. ”
“How do you know which direction they’re coming from?”
“I feel them.” I pause, reaching for the forest’s awareness. The King’s presence lurks at the edges, but the forest itself is still mine to read. “A mass of heartbeats, moving in formation. The siege engine is in the center, protected by a ring of hunters. They’re burning everything in their path.”
She makes a sound of disgust. “Scorched earth.”
“It’s effective. The forest can regenerate from most damage, but fire...” I press my hand against a nearby trunk, feel the tree shudder under my touch. “Fire leaves scars that don’t heal. The King feeds on the forest’s pain just as much as it feeds on human suffering.”
“Then we need to move faster.”
She does just that—picking up her pace, moving through the forest with a confidence that surprises me.
She’s adapting. Learning the rhythm of the thornpaths, the way to step without triggering the roots that want to trip her.
I’ve seen hunters spend days in Briargrave without learning what she’s grasped in hours.
“You’re getting better at this,” I say.
“I’m a fast learner.” She ducks beneath a reaching vine without slowing. “When I have to be.”
We travel in silence after that. The forest presses close around us, but it doesn’t attack—not while I’m directing it, channeling its fear into watchfulness instead of aggression. I can feel Xela’s presence like a second heartbeat, moving in sync with mine as we navigate the treacherous paths.
It’s strange. After so long alone, after moving through Briargrave with only the forest and the King for company, having another person at my side feels like wearing clothes that don’t fit.
But I don’t push. Don’t pull ahead or let her fall behind. I match my pace to hers, and when she stumbles on a hidden root, my hand shoots out to steady her without thought.
“Thanks.” She doesn’t pull away from my grip immediately. Her arm is warm under my fingers, her muscles taut beneath the leather of her armor.
“Watch the ground.” My voice comes out rougher than I intend. “The forest is testing you.”
“Then I’ll pass.” She straightens, and I let her go. “How much further?”
“Not far. There’s a clearing ahead—one of the outer graves. We can observe the Consortium’s position from there.”
The clearing opens before us like a wound in the forest’s flesh. I’ve been here before, many times. Walked among these bones, these bodies frozen in their final moments. The Briarbound Dead watch us enter with hollow eyes, their skulls turning slightly to track our movement.
“There are so many.” Xela’s voice is quiet. Controlled. But I can hear an undercurrent—not horror, exactly. Recognition. “All of them claimed by the forest?”
“Over centuries. Some were enemies who came to destroy Briargrave. Others were victims who wandered in by accident.” I move through the clearing, careful not to disturb the bones. “The forest doesn’t distinguish between them. It just takes.”
She follows, her gaze moving from body to body. I watch her stop before a skeleton that’s been absorbed into a tree trunk, its spine curved around the bark in an embrace that looks almost willing.
“Does it hurt?” Her hand hovers over the skull but doesn’t touch. “When the forest takes them?”
“Some of the Briarbound Dead can still communicate, in a way. They remember what they were. What happened to them.” I stop beside her, looking at the same skeleton.
“Most of them beg for release. But I can’t give it to them.
They’re part of Briargrave now, as much as the trees or the roots.
Destroying them would destroy pieces of the forest itself. ”
“So they just... exist. Trapped in wood and bone. Aware.”
“The ones the forest valued enough to keep conscious.” I turn to face her, finding her harder to read than usual.
“This is what Briargrave does to trespassers. This is what I’ve let it do since I took the binding.
Every body in this clearing, every face frozen in the bark—I could have stopped it.
Could have pushed the forest to kill them quickly, cleanly, instead of absorbing them. But I didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because the forest needed them. The Briarbound Dead serve as sensors, warning systems, extensions of Briargrave’s awareness. Without them, I’d be blind to half the threats that enter this territory.” I force her to see what I am. What I’ve become.
“I’ve seen monsters.” Her voice is fierce now, cutting.
“I’ve hunted them, killed them, collected bounties on creatures that committed atrocities I won’t describe.
And if that’s the worst thing you have to show me—” She gestures at the Briarbound Dead, at the clearing full of absorbed bodies.
“Then you’re going to have to try harder to scare me away. ”
I stare at her. This woman who should be running. Who should be horrified, disgusted, desperate to escape the forest and the creature who guards it. Instead, she’s standing among the bones of my victims, telling me I’m not as terrible as I believe.
A barrier gives way inside me. One that’s been locked tight for so long I’d forgotten it existed.
“You’re either very brave,” I say, “or very foolish.”
“Probably both.” She turns back toward the clearing’s edge, toward the glow of firelight visible through the trees. “Now. Are we going to stand here discussing my character flaws, or are we going to stop an army?”
The fire is closer than it was. I can feel the Consortium’s advance through the forest’s pain, each burned tree a spike of agony in my awareness. They’re moving fast. Faster than I expected.
“Stay close,” I say, moving toward the firelight. “And remember—these hunters came to wake an entity that’s been dreaming of destruction for eight centuries. Whatever happens next, whatever we have to do to stop them... don’t hesitate.”
She falls into step beside me, blades ready, jaw set with determination.
“I never do.”
The forest shudders around us. Somewhere ahead, the Consortium’s siege engine roars, its runes tearing at the fabric of the binding that holds the King in check.