The vision had felt so real, just like the one I’d had the day I left Rhodaire, when I’d touched my mother’s headstone. Were they a result of the magic line we’d shared? Was our power connected?
“My mother,” I said breathlessly to Res. “She was here.”
Res rustled his wings, a thrum of reassurance pulsing down the bond, followed by a sense of urgency. I drew a sharp breath, straightening. He was right. Ericen was in danger. Still, I hesitated at the doorway, knowing I risked myself by doing this. Going after him was a gamble, but leaving him felt like letting Razel win. The only reason Ericen was in this mess was because he’d wanted to help me. If I left him behind, what kind of leader was I?
My mother.
My hands curled into fists at the thought. If I left him behind, I would be no better than her—abandoning the people who trusted her. I would not do the same.
“Let’s go.” I pushed open the door, entering the shrine. The inside was bare, save for a replica of the front door on the far side.
That strange connection that’d tugged at me in Terin materialized again, as if it’d just been waiting for me to remember it. It felt like a rope pulling at the center of my chest, demanding that I follow.
I tried the handle of the door, but it wouldn’t turn. What had Razel told me to do? Above the door, the same symbols had been carved into the wood. I pressed two fingers to the Sella symbol and, feeling foolish, commanded the door open.
The symbol began to glow like trapped moonlight fighting to escape. I stepped back. Then the symbol flashed, the door rocking in its hinges, before fading back to wood.
The door clicked open.
The meaning behind that small sound struck me like a blow. Razel’s letter had said only a Sella could open the door. She’d claimed it would lead me to a road. A lost road that only one with Sella blood could find.
Hearing Ericen say it had been one thing. Seeing the truth of it for myself was another.
Taking a slow, calming breath, I stepped through.
Twenty-Three
Razel had said the door would lead to a road. She hadn’t said it would look like this.
It was like I was still stuck in the vision, the world warping around me as if I were looking at it from underwater. Colors shifted in undefined shapes, occasionally sharpening into something recognizable: a soldier knocking on a door; a group of revelers staggering by, their laughter warped; a tall, dark-leafed tree.
I looked down at the path and immediately wished I hadn’t. What felt like hard stone beneath my feet was nothing but solidified air, like a wind current woven into a walkway barely wide enough for me to cross. And below it, the world twisted and turned, flashing bits of color and images.
Res made a soft sound behind me, and I felt the brush of his beak against my back. This was magic unlike anything I’d ever seen, and yet I knew it. Shadow crows could bend space in ways we didn’t fully understand. It was how they blended into shadows, sliding through them to travel from one location to the next in an instant. The most powerful of them could take their riders along, and Lady Kerova had once described the disorienting rush of images and sound that accompanied the journey.
But she hadn’t mentioned a road.
Was this how Malkin and his mercenaries had reached Eselin?
A door identical to the one back in the shrine waited ahead on a ledge of packed earth. I let out a relieved breath when I reached it and pressed my hand against the Sella symbol, demanding it open. Like before, it came alight, the door shuddering and releasing.
I pushed it open and stepped through.
My apprehension plummeted as the door revealed another small, empty shrine, every bit the same as the one I’d left. The only difference was the temperature, the air here crisper, colder, and…fuller? It felt charged, like the shifting air above a crackling fire.
I shut the door behind Res and approached the one on the far side of the shrine. Pushing it open, I stepped into lush green grass up to my knees. To my right, the field extended to the horizon. To my left—my breath caught, and I fell still.
The Wandering Wood sat before me.
* * *
The colorful forest spilled like dye across the gently sloping hills. A full moon hung heavy in the starlit sky, shining as bright as a gemstone to illuminate my way. A breeze whispered through the grass, the sound of the rustling stalks soft as the slide of smooth silk. I ran my hand through the grass—it felt like brushing air.
“It’s real,” I breathed. “I think—Res, I think we’re in Sellador.”
That passage had been a true Sella road, connecting two locations. And somewhere in the forest before me, Razel held Ericen hostage. Still, I hesitated. According to the stories, I had only until dawn to escape the wood, or I’d be trapped until the next full moon.
I stepped into the wood.
A howl went up, a ghostly sound carried by the wind that sent a shiver running through me. An answering howl followed, nearer than I would have liked.
Res pressed up beside me, tense as marble. He didn’t like this any more than I did.
“This way,” I said, following the pull. The place of light and color that I’d read of was not what lay before me. The pure dark brown of the thick, proud trees in Saints and Sellas looked gray and thin in real life, the leaves crunching underfoot like delicate bones. The air felt stiller and thicker than a humid Rhodairen summer day, yet drier than the desert.
This was a washed-out version of the dreamland I’d seen in the tome.
It felt like it was dying.
Res trilled quietly, the sound a soft rasp yet somehow still too loud for the silent forest.
“I’m aware it’s creepy,” I grumbled back, and the wood swallowed my voice. The uneasy atmosphere made my skin crawl and my muscles tense. Part of me wanted to turn and run. I pressed on.
Finally, the tree line broke, granting me entrance into a large glade. The air here felt thickest of all, each breath an effort to draw in and push out. Fog blanketed the clearing, hanging low and heavy as overripe fruit.
The mist drew together in a shudder, and then all at once, it dispersed, scurrying like shadows before the sun. It revealed a circular pond on the far side. The water was a pale gold, as if lit from below by a thousand candles. At the center sat a small island connected by several thin land bridges, a single tree standing at its center.
Bright silver and gold leaves hung heavy on branches thicker than my torso. Gnarled roots lifted and fell through the earth like the body of a snake, reaching out of the edges of the island into the glow of the lake.
At the base of the tree sat a bound figure, his head drooped.
Ericen.
Shearen stood with a sword to his once friend’s throat.
Razel stepped up to the edge of the island, flanked by five Vykryn in black leather. The queen’s own uniform was lined in gold, her hair woven back in a tight braid. A simple, gilded circlet sat over her brow, the edges of her moonblades reaching up over her shoulders.
Her smile was a sharp knife. “Hello, Thia dear.”
Twin emotions stampeded through my veins: a vicious fury entwined with icy hate. Lightning snapped from Res’s beak, striking the earth a foot from where Razel stood and sending up a shower of dirt. She didn’t so much as blink. Thunder echoed overhead, drowning the hard beating of my heart.
Razel laughed. “Oh, you want to play with magic?”
Figures moved in the shadows of the trees. Tall, lean, and hooded, they emerged from behind the drooping branches all around the clearing, surrounding us.
One stepped up beside Razel, lowering its hood.
Unnatural golden eyes stared out from a gaunt, angular face too sharp and hard to be human, and a strange glow emanated from beneath his pale skin as if moonlight were trapped beneath it. An immeasurable sense of age surrounded him like a cl
oak.
A Sella.
He lifted one long-fingered hand. A flame ignited in his palm.
“No.” The word fell useless from my lips. This was the figure I’d seen on Malkin’s retreating ship. The one who had truly set those strange, all-consuming fires.
Ericen’s words came flooding back.
The Sellas are still alive. Or at least one of them is. He’s been aiding my mother, perhaps since she destroyed the crows.
This was the Sella who had set fire to Aris on Ronoch.
Even with the traitors who had aided Razel, even with the elite Illucian archers and limited targets, Ronoch had still seemed impossible.
Now it made sense.
This was how the fires had erupted into infernos all at once. This was how they’d burned through stone and metal and bone.
Razel had been working with him from the beginning, and now somehow, there were more of them.
The queen spread her hands in a magnanimous gesture. “Allow me to introduce my friend, Valis. I’m sorry to say he wants you and your family dead every bit as much as I do.”
For the war. For locking them away. Everything Estrel had said was true.
“The prison your family trapped them in has been weakening. At first, only Valis was strong enough to emerge, but it’s weak enough now that others have joined him. This is only the beginning.” Razel turned to the strange tree. It pulsed with an unnatural golden light that filled the air with power, making it difficult to breathe. The world swayed, and a dark figure moved in the light.
The tree was the prison. This was where the other Sellas had come from—and there were still more emerging.
“My, how terrified you look,” Razel mused. “I’d almost forgotten how much I enjoyed it.”
My throat had gone dry, my hand seeking my bow. The clearing was big enough for Res to take flight, but escaping would mean leaving Ericen behind to die.
I looked at the prince, his dark hair casting shadows along his face. In sleep, he looked peaceful in a way he never did when he was awake. As if this were the only time he could bring himself to let down his guard.
In sleep and around me.
Ericen was my friend. With the way my heart beat wildly against the idea of leaving him behind, I knew he might be more. Even without that, we needed him. He had vital information on Illucian battle tactics and insights into his mother’s mind the rest of us didn’t.
I wouldn’t leave him.
“You really do have a bad habit of trusting people you shouldn’t,” Razel said with a smile.
I shivered. I’d forgotten how cold that smile could make me feel. How much I hated it.
She looked as comfortable as a queen at court, as if she already owned these woods and the people in it. As if she already owned me.
Her eyes alighted on Res, a hungry, possessive look filling them. “You want to save everyone, and in the end, it’s what will get you killed.” She stepped aside, revealing a ragged-looking man, a scowl on his cracked lips.
Onis.
I stared at the crewman, my mind turning and turning and turning. We’d left him on Samra’s ship. How—?
“That rebel filth’s crew is dead.” Razel’s words struck my thoughts still. “All save this one, who told me a very interesting story.”
Everything inside me went cold. “No,” I whispered, as if that simple word could change the past. They were gone, all of them. Talon, with his joyous laugh. Darya, whose warm voice wove worlds. Luan, who’d saved Kiva’s life.
“I’ve known about the Jin forces gathering outside of Shalron for weeks, but I was content to let them play at rebellion for now. Until Onis told me about the alliance forming against me.” Indignation hardened her words, as if the idea of her conquered people turning against her offended her as much as it infuriated her. She smiled her knifelike smile. “By now, the contingent of soldiers I sent to Ira should have killed every last rebel.”
Pure horror twisted my gut, and I backed into Res’s chest, the urge to run from what she’d said, from what was happening nearly overwhelming me. This couldn’t be true. The Jin forces dead?
“And the most interesting story of all?” The queen ran a finger along the length of one moonblade handle. “That rather than turn my traitorous son aside, rather than kill him as you should have, you kept him with you. You advocated for him. You even seemed to care about him.”
“You promised me a reward,” Onis growled, laying his hand on the queen’s shoulder.
She stilled. My warning died in my throat as Razel spun, freeing a moonblade from her back and slashing it across Onis’s throat in one smooth movement.
He gaped, hands clutching at his neck, trying to stem the flow of blood. But it ran through his fingers in rivulets of red, streaming down his chest and arms and staining the grass a dark, muddy brown. The gurgling noises scratching from his ravaged throat made me gag, and I turned my face away as he collapsed into the earth.
“I won’t come with you,” I said.
She laughed, the sound as cutting as I remembered. “Tell me, what progress have you made with your crow? How fast can his winds push aside a glass arrow?”
One of her archers aimed a translucent arrow at Res’s chest.
“I can make more of him. All I need is you.”
On reflex, my bow was in my hand, an arrow nocked and aimed at the archer’s chest. “Move, and I’ll put an arrow in your heart,” I warned. But it was pointless. The archer didn’t even blink. She would die if it was required of her, and Razel would let her. And that still left the second one.
Be ready to armor up, I warned Res.
“She is meant to be ours,” Valis said in a low voice.
The humor turned to ice in Razel’s eyes. “And she will be, when I’m finished with her. We had a deal.”
“Our deal had an expiration.”
Razel shifted, her bloodied fingers curling tighter about the moonblade. Was that fear in her eyes?
“Let me handle this,” she hissed.
Res let out a low call. Images of lightning and hail flickered through my mind. We’d practiced enough with wind that he might be able to turn the arrow aside fast enough.
My fingers tightened about my bow, the string digging into the leather of my gloves.
Beneath the tree, Ericen stirred. He blinked slowly as he woke. I stepped toward him, then forced myself still.
Razel’s eyes widened with delight at my concern. “Or I can kill the prince.”
“What?” Shearen lurched forward. “You said you’d pardon him. You can’t—” He fell silent at a look from Razel, her expression dangerous.
Ericen had gone still, assessing the situation carefully. “You don’t have to do this, Shearen,” he said carefully. “I know you. I know what you’ve done in pursuit of becoming Valix, and I know it was never what you wanted. Your father’s approval, my mother’s respect—it’s not worth this! I’m not the only one who thinks so. Illucia is tired of this fight. It’s gone too far.”
“Too far?” The words bubbled out of Razel in a laugh. “Oh, Eri. I knew you were weak, but not like this. You’ve betrayed your people, and now you seek to bring them down with you?”
Ericen pulled against the ropes. “You’ve lost your mind,” he snarled. “You’ve thrown our kingdom’s future into this pointless war for what? Revenge?”
“Yes!” The queen rounded on him. “Is that not a good enough reason for you? You think I should let them live happily and peacefully after what they did to me? To my family?”
“You’ve already taken enough from them!”
Razel laughed. “It will never be enough!”
“Mother—”
“Enough!” she screamed. The wood swallowed the word, drowning the air in silence. Razel’s chest heaved, her hands drawn into tight fists. “You weren’
t there! You didn’t see their bodies torn to bloodied ribbons. You weren’t forced to watch!” Her pale skin had turned white as ash. “You didn’t have to listen to the people you loved beg for their lives.”
I thought of the dead mercenary in the dining corridor. Of her quiet, lifeless eyes and the blood on Malkin’s lips. My stomach turned.
“Eri,” Shearen began, but Razel cut him off.
“You aren’t worthy of the Illucian crown,” she said, voice utterly void of emotion. “You never were.” She didn’t look at Shearen as she spoke. “Kill him.”
“No!” I lurched forward.
Valis lifted his hand, spreading the fire between his palms like a string.
Thunder boomed, and the sky split open.
Lightning erupted in the clearing. It struck one of the Vykryn and sent the others scurrying for cover. Where it singed the grass, flames leapt to life in its wake, casting the glade in a deathly orange glow.
My arrow struck the rope binding Ericen to the tree. It snapped, and he leapt to his feet. One of the Vykryn released an arrow, but Res’s wind lashed it away even as his feathers turned metallic. Ericen seized an arrow from the second archer’s quiver and drove it through her neck. He seized her bow, nocking an arrow and aiming at Razel.
“You’ve gone too far.” Razel’s voice trickled out from the darkness. “You’ve betrayed your kingdom.”
Ericen’s face was a cold, rigid mask, the light of the full moon casting sharp shadows across it. “I’m going to save my kingdom. From you.”
Razel’s snarl mixed with the ring of metal as she drew her moonblades. “You’ve let this foolish girl corrupt your mind.”
I expected Ericen to snap back, to defend himself as he always did. Instead, he turned away, his bright gaze falling on me, and his eyes widened. “Thia, behind you!”
I whirled. At Res’s back, a hooded Sella had emerged, daggers of ice in his hands. I caught his first attack with the limb of my bow, dodging the second. As I spun out of the way, Res released a bolt of electricity at the Sella.
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