Chapter 29
Twenty-Nine
The first hours were quiet. The mare’s hooves crunched rhythmically against the leaf-riddled forest bed, and the drums that sounded like the forest’s heartbeat accompanied us as we made our way deeper into the wild woods. Thankfully, Darcke’s measured breaths against my back kept me steady.
Every once in a while we needed to duck under branches reaching for us like skeletal claws wanting to rip into our flesh, and I jerked whenever I thought I heard tapping steps, but each time the woods swallowed the sound.
The silence that followed wasn’t peaceful, more like someone holding their breath right before battle, a quiet heart in a terrified chest, or the moment right before a cry of pain.
It was thick and haunting, and it felt as if it closed in on us, trapping us in this realm of watching trees and ghosts and danger.
When a ripple of fear went through me, Darcke’s arms brushed my waist. I shifted, moving so that my back lined up with his chest. There was a second of hesitation, but then the warrior secured me there, holding me against him as we turned our heads at every strange rustle.
“There are no animals in this part of the woods.” Darcke’s voice was hoarse as it brushed my ear.
“It’s like it’s dead,” I whispered, grateful for the warmth surrounding me when a howling wind ripped through the air, making the blackened branches around us seem even more like ghostly husks.
“My father told me the opposite about his experience here. That the woods were full of life and predators and traps.”
“It shows us what it wants to.” Darcke hooked a finger under my chin and tilted my face up. “Look.”
As we passed them, the trees turned, their trunks twisting and their crowns tangled in each other’s, building a thick roof that hid what little of the sky we’d been able to make out. Air struggled into my lungs at the sight of it—and the sense that the woods were looking back.
One of Darcke’s hands moved to press against my waist, his fingers drumming a slow beat that distracted me enough that I could take a breath.
“They’re watching us,” I whispered.
His stubble brushed against my shoulder as he nodded. “They are.”
Something moved within the tree crowns, a sliver of silver hair coming into view before it disappeared again behind dark leaves. I blinked, thinking I’d imagined it, when it showed up again, peeking over thick branches before moving on, keeping our pace.
“What is that?” My voice wasn’t more than a puff of air.
“The warden of the forest,” Darcke replied as he pulled on the reins, making the mare slow as he steered us on the narrow path. “The huldra.”
“She’s real?” I kept looking for her, my muscles coiling each time a pair of glittering blue eyes twinkled my way between the branches.
“I’d say so.”
A giggle layered over us, echoed by the rustle of wood and fueled by howling wind.
The sound filled my mind first, then moved into my limbs, making my bones ache.
Darcke shifted again, his body caging mine when the sound burrowed through the trunks, making the trees vibrate like they were joining her in laughter.
“She’s lonely,” I said as something pulled deep in my gut.
“No, she’s not.” Darcke’s fingers tapped my side again.
“She wants us to stay so she can rip our veins out of our bodies and plant them like roots so we continue to grow her forest.” His chin dug into my shoulder, and I kept my head turned forward as his hot breath trickled over my skin. “You see those trees over there?”
Standing amongst the ash and pine were crimson oak—the trees that rose from warriors who’d fallen on sacred land like Morkskog. Their crowns looked like hands reaching for Valhalla, and sap the color of bright blood dripped along their trunks, feeding the rich soil beneath.
“That’s other heirs,” I replied.
Darcke nodded. “And their seconds.”
A woman’s face peeked from one of those crowns, her smile so bright it took more power than I wanted to admit to turn away, but finally I was able to twist my body until I could focus on Darcke instead.
“What do you think we’ll face out here?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Nothing good.”
I frowned at the sliver of awareness filling him, but before I could ask, that giggle sounded again, too pure and childish to belong in these dark woods. The wind mimicked her, whispering through the trees until each one woke, their leaves drifting in the opposite direction of the breeze.
“I don’t like this,” I muttered. “She’s creepy.”
“She’s a protector,” Darcke said as the huldra jumped from one tree to another, her eyes always on us, as if she was patrolling her border. “She is the reason these woods have survived for millennia. She does what she needs to do to keep it that way. Whatever sacrifice it requires.”
“Sounds like you’re impressed by her,” I replied, my head whipping back and forth as the warden of the forest followed us, her laugh continuing to shatter the thick silence.
“I understand her.” Darcke pulled on the reins. “There’s a difference.”
As the mare slowed, I met the huldra’s eyes once more. There was a determination in the pale blue—a fierceness, a will to do whatever was needed. The woman gave me a slow smile before she spun, revealing a backside that looked like a hollowed rotten tree trunk.
“A pretty lie with a dark shadow,” I whispered, my stomach clenching.
Perhaps I understood her as well.
An hour passed, then another. We kept riding, and the spirit of the woods kept following.
“What do you think she wants?” I asked.
The huldra threw herself from tree to tree, not once letting us out of sight. The forest turned as well, trailing her wherever she went, like warriors following their commander.
“To test us,” Darcke replied, something within him steadying as he turned his head from side to side.
My chest fluttered, my nerves igniting as I followed his gaze. There was nothing but trees and trees and trees. Ash and pine and crimson oak standing in neat rows, as if the huldra tended to them like my sisters did the vegetable garden back home.
After we remained quiet for more long moments, a thicker darkness fell, like evening had arrived even though barely any light had found its way into this overgrown forest. The shadows continued creeping in, settling over my skin and then seeking their way through my limbs.
A yawn overtook me, and I loosened my shoulders.
“You can rest if you want,” Darcke said, his arms moving to hold me steady. “I’ll keep us on track.”
“I’m fine,” I said, blinking against the tiredness.
“You’re making me tired.” He nudged me so I fell back against him, and the additional heat did nothing to help my exhaustion. “You can take the first watch when we stop.”
“All right,” I agreed when his conviction found its way into me. “Wake me when you need a break.”
A warm breeze made leaves whirl before us, and I bowed my head when the forest spirit showed her face again. More warmth danced over my skin, and I closed my eyes, listening to Darcke’s low whistle and letting his chest and the horse rock me into half slumber.
A voice pulled me awake. “We should find somewhere to stop.”
My brows pulled. “Why?”
“Because I’m tired?” the man replied.
More confusion filled me, and my thoughts refused to clear.
Clouds floated within my mind like a white mist that covered everything I needed to sort through.
Faces eluded me, going in and out, and I blinked at the dark forest that was nothing like the warm beach I should be headed to—nothing like my home.
The blanket of white was alluring—welcoming—but I still fought it. Something within me tried to burrow through, but it was as if the mist solidified, keeping anything clear at bay.
“But it’s daytime?” I asked, turning around on the horse.
“No. We’ve been here for hours.” A terrifyingly handsome man stared back at me, his hair strangely short, lying in messy waves atop his head.
Even with the war paint dabbed across his eyes and the ridge of his nose, two tattoos peeked through: three dots forming a triangle beneath his right eye, and below his other one, three waves rising above his sharp cheekbone.
Before I could stop myself, I lifted a hand and traced a finger over the black markings. “These are pretty.”
“Very funny,” he replied, his eyes narrowing. “We should find shelter. I don’t want us or the horse out in the open. Who knows what else is hiding behind these trees.”
“I wasn’t trying to be funny,” I replied. “I meant it.”
The man shook his head. “Great. Still, shelter.”
“What do they mean?” I poked the three waves. “This is for the three great seas, but what are the dots?”
“Focus,” the man said.
I tilted my head when a strange brush of anger went over my chest. “Tell me and I’ll focus.”
“It’s a reminder that we only need wind, current, and will to find a way out of anything,” he said. “It’s the mark of my people.”
“I love that.” I cupped his cheek, letting my thumb brush over his hot skin, smudging his war paint. His dark eyes flashed, making them even more alluring—like reflective pools of water drawing you in only to drown you. “Do I have any marks for my people?”
His back went stiff under my touch. “What?”
I waved a hand over my face. “Do I have any tattoos?”
“You know you don’t, heir.”
I brushed my fingers over the crease between his brows. “Am I the heir?”
Something I didn’t like as much flashed in the man’s eyes. “Do you know who I am?”
“No,” I said. “Should I?”
I wanted to get to know him. He was beautiful. I liked the way his lips curved, like they were always holding back a smile, and his face was all sharp angles that I wouldn’t mind risking cutting myself on.
“You don’t think it’s weird you’re riding with me on a horse in this cursed forest?” he asked.
I twisted my mouth. “Not really. It feels like where I should be. You feel like who I should be with.”
At least something within me was trying to tell me that was true. I tried to focus on what that was, but the feeling slipped like sand between my fingers each time.