Chapter 12
Under a canopy of glittering ruby instead of gold, we climbed the Skotos Mountains at a harsh pace that left little room to question what had happened to the trees of Aios.
Not that either Casteel or Naill had an answer.
I could feel their shock and unease just as strongly as I felt the same emotions radiating from the wolven as red instead of gold glistened from the bark of the magnificent, sweeping trees.
We split into groups as before, even though there were only faint wisps of mist seeping through prickly shrubs and curling along the thick moss covering the forest floor on the mountain.
Kieran and Delano stayed with us as we moved steadily up.
There were no sounds of birds or any animals, and while the branches, heavy with gleaming crimson leaves, swayed above us, there was no echo of wind, either.
No one spoke beyond Casteel asking if I was hungry or Naill offering his flask, claiming the whiskey would help keep us warm the farther we traveled.
Hours into the journey, we stopped long enough to take care of personal needs, feed the horses, and for both Naill and Casteel to don their cloaks.
Once I was basically swaddled in the blanket Casteel had brought from the cabin, we continued on in the mountains that were still beautiful in a quiet, unsettling way.
I couldn’t stop staring at the leaves above me and the deep red ones that had fallen to the ground, peeking out from behind rocks and shrubs.
It was as if the entire mountain had turned into one massive Blood Forest—one absent of the Craven.
What had changed the golden trees that had grown through the foothills and the entire mountain range after the goddess Aios had gone to sleep somewhere in the mountain?
That question haunted me with each hour that passed.
I may enjoy dabbling in denial every now and again, but there could be no coincidence between the change that had occurred here and what had happened to me.
Three times now, a tree had grown rapidly where my blood had fallen, and in the ruins of Castle Bauer, the roots of that tree had seemed to gather around me—around Casteel and I both, as if the tree had tried to pull us into the ground or shield us.
I didn’t know, but I clearly remembered Kieran tearing through the slick, dark gray roots.
Roots that had been identical to the ones that had wrapped around the bone chains.
Had my near-death done this to the trees here?
And the deformed woods outside of the hunting cabin?
Had the potential loss of my mortality been the storm that swept through the woods and changed the trees of Aios to blood trees?
How, though? And why? And had it impacted the goddess who slept here somehow?
The one who Casteel and Kieran believed had awoken to stop me from plummeting to my death?
I hoped not.
Despite the uneasy nature of the mountains and the brutal pace, exhaustion dogged me, and I began to sink farther and farther into Casteel’s embrace. Each time I blinked, it became harder to reopen my eyes to the beams of sunlight streaking through the gaps in the leaves overhead.
Under the blanket, I curled my fingers loosely around Casteel’s arm as I shifted my gaze to where Kieran and Delano ran side by side ahead of us.
My thoughts wandered as my eyes started to drift closed.
I had no idea how long I’d slept after Casteel gave me his blood and we arrived at the cabin.
I hadn’t thought to ask, but it felt like I’d slept for a while.
But that sleep hadn’t been deep. Not all of it anyway because I had dreamed.
I remembered that now. I had dreamt of the night my parents died, and those dreams had been different than the ones before.
My mother had pulled something from her boot—something long, slender, and black.
I couldn’t see it now, no matter how hard I tried to remember, but someone else had also been there—someone she’d spoken to, who had sounded nothing like the voice I’d heard in the past—the one who had spoken with my father that I now knew belonged to Alastir.
This had been a figure in black. I knew I had dreamed more, but it kept slipping out of reach within my tired mind.
Was whatever I dreamed old memories that were finally revealing themselves?
Or had they been implanted there, becoming a part of my imagination because of what Alastir had claimed about the Dark One?
But what hadn’t felt like a dream, what had felt real, was the woman I’d seen.
The one with the long, silvery-blonde hair, who’d filled my mind when I was in the Chambers of Nyktos.
She had appeared when I was no longer a body, without substance or thought, floating in the nothingness.
She had looked like me a little. She had more freckles, her hair was different, and her eyes were odd—a fractured green and silver, reminding me of how the wolven’s eyes had looked when they came to me in the Chambers.
A bloody tear had slid down her cheek. That meant she had to be a god, but I knew of no female gods who were depicted with such hair or features.
A weary frown pulled at my lips as I tried to sit up straighter.
She had said something to me, too—something that had been a shock.
I could almost hear her voice in my mind now, but just like with the dreams of the night at the inn, clarity frustratingly existed on the fringes of my consciousness.
Casteel shifted me so my head rested more fully against his chest. “Rest,” he urged in a soft voice. “I’ve got you. You can rest.”
It didn’t seem right for me to do so when no one else could, but I couldn’t fight the lure. It wasn’t the deepest of sleep. Things I wanted to forget followed me. I found myself back in the crypts, chained to the wall. Bile crept up my throat as I turned my head to the side.
Oh, gods.
I came face to face with one of the corpses, its empty eye sockets tunnels of nothingness as it shuddered .
Dust sifted through the air as its jaw loosened, and a raspy, dry voice came out of the lipless mouth. “You’re just like us.” Teeth fell from its jaws, crumbling apart as they did. “You will end up just like us.”
I pressed back as far as I could go, feeling the bindings tighten on my wrists and my legs. “This isn’t real—”
“You’re just like us,” another echoed as its head jerked toward me. “You’ll end up just like us.”
“No. No.” I struggled against the bindings, feeling the bones cut through my skin. “I’m not a monster. I’m not.”
“You’re not ,” a soft voice intruded, coming from everywhere and nowhere as the corpses along the wall continued shuddering and moving, their bones rubbing and grinding together. The voice sounded like… Delano? “ You are meyaah Liessa. Wake up.”
The thing beside me’s mouth fell open in a scream that started silently but turned into a long, keening howl—-
“Wake up. Poppy. You can wake up. I’ve got you.
” Casteel . His arm was tight around me as he gathered me as close as he could to his chest while Setti’s powerful muscles moved under us.
“You’re safe. No one is going to hurt you.
” His mouth pressed against my temple, warm and comforting. “Never again.”
Heart thumping erratically, I dragged in deep breaths.
Had I screamed? I blinked rapidly as I struggled to free my hands from where they were tucked between Casteel’s arms and the blanket.
I managed to pull one free and hastily wipe at my cool cheeks as my eyes adjusted to the faint traces of pale sunlight and the dark, almost-black leaves above us.
Swallowing hard, I glanced to where Naill rode, facing straight ahead, and then before us.
The white wolven ran beside the fawn-colored one, turning his head to look back at us, his ears perked.
For a brief second, our gazes connected, and I felt his concern.
The buzz in my chest hummed as a singular pathway opened along the connection to the wolven’s emotions, a clearer cord that fed something other than feeling.
A springy, featherlight sense that had nothing to do with relief.
It was almost like a brand—an imprint of Delano, of who he was at his core—unique only to him.
The wolven broke eye contact as he loped over a boulder, moving ahead of Kieran. I let out a ragged breath.
“Poppy?” Casteel’s fingers brushed my chin and then the side of my neck. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low.
Pulling my gaze from Delano, I nodded. “I’m fine.”
His fingers stilled, and then he lowered his hand, picking up the strands. “What were you dreaming about?”
“The crypts,” I admitted, clearing my throat. “Did I…did I scream? Or speak?”
“No,” he said, and I silently thanked the gods. “You started to squirm around a bit. You were flinching.” He paused. “Want to talk about it?”
I shook my head.
He was silent for a few moments and then he said, “They felt you. Felt whatever you were dreaming. Both Kieran and Delano. They kept looking back here,” he told me as my gaze tracked back to the two wolven.
They raced over the ground—ground that was no longer as mossy.
“Delano started howling. That’s when I woke you. ”
“I…do you think it’s the Primal thing?” I asked, wondering if I had really heard Delano’s voice. That didn’t make sense because he had answered what I’d said in my dream.
“The Primal notam ? I imagine so.”
Leaning into Casteel, I looked up. The trees were thinning, and I could see patches of the sky now painted intense shades of pink and deep blue. “Have we crossed the Skotos?”
“We have,” he confirmed. The air wasn’t nearly as cold as it had been before I’d fallen asleep.