Chapter 12
Over the following days, Arla had spent every spare moment in Flambriar helping establish a proper school, a proper place for the healers to work, and a proper place for the blacksmiths. It filled her with a satisfaction she hadn’t felt since she’d left Hadalyn.
Kase came with her to the forests. They met in the courtyard at the hall to find Vetta and Eros already saddled and waiting. Arla had spent a lot of time in service to the king travelling across the kingdoms, and she and Vetta had seen their fair share of forests.
None of them felt as ancient as this.
The loamy, rich scent of centuries-old wood filled her senses as they rode through the trees, the horses’ hooves snapping pine needles and leaves and whatever else lay underfoot.
There was magic in the trees – she could feel it in the air, feel the pressure of it looping around her as if it recognised her very blood.
It was magic, and ancient … and she had never felt calmer.
This place was safe, it was hidden, it was—
‘Somewhere the gods watch over, Dragonhart.’
She committed the knowledge to memory. Should they ever be attacked, should they ever need a place to hide, a gods-blessed forest might be the only place in the world that could conceal them.
Grunts filled the air in the distance, and deep voices that even from afar sounded so synchronised that Arla knew these men had perfected the art of harvesting the wood from the forest over years.
‘I should leave the hall more often. This is the most relaxed I’ve been in days,’ Kase said beside her, her leg brushing Arla’s when their horses walked too closely.
‘It’s definitely been a lot.’ Arla sighed.
‘You’ve been busy. The people have been talking about you, you know.’
Arla laughed quietly. ‘I’d be surprised if they hadn’t. They likely think I’ve come and turned their world upside down.’
Kase was silent for a few seconds, reaching an arm above her to feel the branches of a low-hanging oak. ‘Sometimes I think you have to turn the world upside down to do good.’
There it was again, those distant, glassy eyes that spoke of a past perhaps as painful as Arla’s. She shouldn’t ask. She would deserve it if Kase ran her through with a blade for being so nosy.
But she’d never cared about someone threatening her…
‘How did you come to work with Hark?’ she asked softly, already regretting her words when Kase’s shoulders tensed.
‘He freed me from his father’s prison.’
Arla huffed. ‘What did you do, comment on how grey his hair was turning?’
Kase stilled atop Eros, and it was at that point that Arla knew she was treading on ground that was ready to swallow Kase whole. She was quiet. Too quiet. And for long enough that Arla didn’t think she’d answer.
‘I killed my uncle. Hark was sent to Hadalyn not long after I escaped.’
There were some wounds that were not to be pressed, no matter how much time had passed. Arla knew it herself; she still couldn’t stomach the thought of anyone but her speaking of her parents.
‘In time, Dragonhart.’ A wave of warmth travelled down the bond.
Hark was a better man than she could ever hope to be. He’d gone against his father for longer than she had known. He’d risked everything to save a teenage girl locked beneath a castle.
He’d saved her, too.
The sound of the men was louder now, and she could smell the freshly cut wood, the sap seeping into the air.
‘Any joy in the library?’ Kase asked.
It was an odd thing, this relationship between them. When they weren’t actively trying to kill each other with their words over dinner there was a common ground that they were both content to rest upon. If only until the boys came back.
‘Not yet. Jaz is still looking. I know I’m supposed to protect them. I can feel the draw in my blood to keep them safe. But I’ve found nothing about uniting kingdoms. Nothing about ending this deranged hunt of the mages.’
‘You call them mages, now. Hark always said magics.’
‘I call them what they wish to be called. It’s an honour they’ve probably never had.’
Kase straightened in the saddle as a clearing came into view. ‘I’ll make sure everyone keeps it in mind.’
The sight before them stole any words Arla had been contemplating. She had seen magic – and the harm it could do – but she had seen the gentle beauty of it too – the way the healers could close the most gruesome of wounds.
None of it compared to this.
The men stood at random points in the clearing, their hands stretched upwards, their eyes fixed on the towering trees around them. Magic sang in the air, the static of it lifting the hairs on Arla’s neck as she watched the men carry out a task that should have been impossible.
They called to one other, their hands arcing and flicking, and the magic copied the movement in the trees.
Huge branches were cut from sequoia and redwoods and pines, the magic slicing through them with ease and also carrying them softly to the ground, manoeuvring the branches onto the back of a cart pulled by six horses.
She felt like she wasn’t breathing. The control and manipulation it took to master the magic so artfully was beyond impressive. Beside Arla, Kase exhaled and Eros pranced beneath her.
She turned slowly, scanning the rest of the clearing. She couldn’t help but be drawn to the magic. Wherever she turned, she saw the beginnings of new life.
Dozens upon dozens of saplings were sprouting from the earth, the green of their leaves so striking against the dark, muted colours of the forest. Tears filled her eyes. It was beautiful magic.
‘Watch your backs, ladies!’ one of the men called, and they both managed to nudge their horses forwards in time to avoid a giant branch floating down right where they had been standing.
Lovell was there too, across the clearing, helping a younger man master the art of securing the wood to the cart.
Arla didn’t know how it didn’t buckle beneath the weight, but the horses pulling it stood firm, and the cart didn’t so much as creak beneath the wood.
The man who had warned them of their imminent impaling strode forwards, wiping a cloth over his forehead as he came to stand beside them. ‘What can we do for you?’
Arla felt something in her chest pull. It was an old, primal instinct to protect them, something that had been baked into her very blood.
‘We’re here to see if there’s anything we can do for you,’ Kase said, snapping Arla out of her haze.
‘It appears you are more than equipped,’ Arla said lightly.
The man smiled, the corners of his mouth creasing heavily as he wiped the sweat from his forehead again. ‘We were the first to get set up in Flambriar. Someone had to build those houses and that fancy hall. We’ve grown since then.’
Arla could see it in the delicacy and finesse of the magic they wielded. Two years they’d had to perfect the art of it. They’d crafted Claret Hall and the rest of the city, and she didn’t think she’d ever see anything as impressive ever again.
‘I recall you being rather impressed at the body of a sleeping dragon beneath your castle.’
‘I was terrified of you all and you know it,’ Arla sent back.
‘Well please let us know if there’s anything we can do or if there’s any extra help you need,’ Kase said to the man, nudging Eros forwards as the group called her over and offered to show her the wood they had harvested.
Arla was in awe of it all.
But her assassin’s eye never missed a single detail. Which was why, when she saw the threads of red silk tied to the base of one of the saplings a few metres away, she looked into the trees and met the gaze of a girl with auburn hair who held a finger in front of her lips.
She would look back later and wonder why she didn’t shout or fire an arrow at the stranger.
She did neither. All she did was offer the subtlest of nods to the stranger and kept her lips sealed.
‘Kase, we should go. I offered to help the women in the fabric shop.’
It was a lie, but Kase trotted back over to her, a smile parting her serious face as the men shouted their appreciation at the visit Flambriar’s court had made. They rode back in silence, as if the sight of the magic had rendered them mute.
Arla didn’t care. She had other things on her mind. Like why a red-haired woman was spying on the mages in the forest, and why she hadn’t made a move to attack.
It plagued her all evening – until she could finally slip away and disappear into the forest to find out who exactly was watching them, and why.