by K.N. Lee
"Where did you get the fur from?" I muttered, not liking where the conversation had gone. His cloak lay by the fire beside mine, sodden and heavy.
Silence greeted my question.
And I remembered what I'd heard of wolvren. They were kin to selkies, and became wolf only when they zipped themselves inside their furs. To steal a wolvren's fur was to doom him to a half-life. He must have kept it rolled in his pack.
I could almost feel the heat of the fur, as if something warmed it from within. Magic, maybe. "Thank you."
He merely rubbed his hands by the flames. "We need you to find the firebird, hence we need you alive. I wouldn't just give my fur to anyone."
And for the first time, I was certain he'd lied to me.
I don't know what woke me.
But between one blink and the next, my vision slowly focused, and there were a pair of eyes staring at me from the woods.
I sat up with a sharp intake of breath. There was no sign of Casimir, and the fire burned as heartily as it ever had. Scrambling for the knife in my pack, my hand curled around the hilt and then I faced the creature in the trees.
"Your iron cannot hurt me here, child." The old woman in the velvet cloak stepped out of the woods.
"You," I said.
Cas? Where was he? The last I could remember, he'd offered to take the first watch.
"He's not here," said the old woman, reading my intentions. She walked through the fire, and I took a step back as its flames parted around her. "This is not real."
"I'm dreaming?" It certainly felt real. The knife hilt in my hand was solid, and the snow beneath my bare feet felt cold.
But as I looked around, I realized there were no shadows cast here. And the flames felt distant, as though a pane of glass separated me from the heat. "Who are you?"
Her bare feet whispered over the snow, melting little footprints in it. She pressed a hand to a mighty oak, stroking it as one would stroke a cat. "They called me Galina. Once upon a time." She glanced back, her silvery tangled and snarled down her back. "Are you coming child? I can only tell you more if you follow me away from here. Your wolf-man is caught between two worlds. He might sense me and wake to the dream."
Leaving the safety of the fire seemed less than prudent, but... I was already in her power it seemed. How could I escape from a world she ruled?
"You will not be harmed," she said, seeming to sense my reticence. "May Vashta strike me down if you are."
"You said the last time we met you'd tell me what you meant about waiting for me to come here," I pointed out. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me."
Her smile dawned, bright and cruel. "So I did. And I am bound by my word." Her gaze drifted to the fire. "I see you have the feather your father was given."
Given? "He found it."
"Did he?" Another smile. "A long time ago we met, he and I. He was lost in the woods, near starving, bleeding, and hunted by a pack of draugur. I saved his life."
"Why?" A life saved meant a debt owed.
"Because I saw his future, and I needed him to live it." Galina's eyes glittered black in the firelight, the flames reflecting back off her pupils. "I allowed him to keep the feather he'd found, as a reminder of the price he owed me."
"What price?"
"A child," she whispered. "A daughter, one of three."
Instantly, I held the knife toward her, my nostrils flaring.
"Oh, child." She rolled her eyes. "I cannot take what is not freely given. I only wished to meet you, to see if you would be a worthy successor. He agreed to only that. I don't see the entire future, only possibilities. You are a possibility. And I've been waiting for you for nearly twenty years."
What? "You want me to be a witch? Like you?"
"I want you to be my successor."
"Then here is my answer: no."
Witches were cruel, solitary creatures who roamed dark woods, and lured the unsuspecting to their deaths. The malicious spells they cast ate away at their souls, leaving behind nothing human.
Galina didn't flinch. She merely smiled, and held a finger to her lips. "The moment of the choice is not upon us. Therefore, you can't deny me, not yet."
"I will keep saying no for a month, if I have to. No, no, no."
"All I wish is for you to listen to me," she said. "You will have your chance to say no, and you will know when the moment arrives. Come, walk with me."
I stared at her. "Why?"
"Will you not listen to what I have to say?"
My eyes narrowed. She'd sworn not to harm me. "If I come with you and hear you out, will you return me to my own world?"
"Of course."
"By the end of an hour?" Only a fool didn't specify limits when dealing with a creature like this.
"Within the hour," she said, and set off through the trees, casting me one last smile.
No reason to panic, I told myself as I followed her through the trees. My father made a deal for me to meet with her. Nothing more. And she wanted something from me. She wasn't going to hurt me until she had it—or knew I wouldn't give it to her. My bare feet crunched on the soft snow. I could barely feel it. For such an old woman, she moved with the kind of grace I'd never seen before. Despite my skill in the forest, she had to wait for me several times.
"You hunt the firebird," Galina finally said, when the trees began to thin.
Something compelled me to say: "The king wants its heart. He's dying, and he needs it to survive."
Her black eyes locked upon me, stark in her gaunt face. Suddenly I was aware of a dangerous presence within her. A predator, its fangs bared. Or a monster, inhumane and lovely. Then it was gone, but I couldn't forget its presence. "Mortal men...." She snorted. "Always seeking to avoid their fate, no matter the cost. His son rides with you. Perhaps I will take his life as payment for his trespass here, and to send this king a message."
"No." I lurched forward, hand held out helplessly. "The prince doesn't— He's a better man than his father. I think if he had a choice in the matter then he would not be here."
"And what do you want?" she asked. "Would you kill the firebird for your king?"
The thought troubled me more than it should have. "The king... they say he's a ruthless man and it's not wise to naysay him when he wants something. He'd have my head."
Or burn me alive.
"I know another word for that."
So did I. Tyrant. "He burned three villages far to the west of here two years ago. They'd refused to pay their taxes, claiming they had no money to give him."
"If his men cannot find you, then they cannot harm you," she said. "The forest would welcome you. You have Old Blood flowing through your veins, and you know how to avoid the king's men."
Ha, nice try. "Become a witch, you mean?"
A smile. I was growing heartily sick of them.
"I don't have a choice. I have sisters. A father. They would force my father to guide them into the woods, and he's far too ill. I can't just run and hide and leave my family and friends to my fate."
The trees ended, and then we were standing in a glade, looking down upon the waterfall that had been both savior and peril. Silver light washed over the world, the moon pregnant and heavy in the sky, its reflection splayed upon the black waters of the pool we'd tumbled into. Water tumbled mercilessly over the falls, sending the reflection dancing in constant ripples.
"These are my woods," said Galina, turning her weathered face to the sky as if to soak up the light of the moon too. "I would like you to see them as they truly are."
"Thanks, but I think I took the extended tour today."
"You crossed the barrier," she murmured, "but you weren't paying attention. You're in the Heart of Gravenwold now."
Night-flowers began to gleam phosphorescent in the darkness, turning their silken faces up toward the sky. My breath caught. Little glittering fireflies danced from flower to flower. It was incredible, and nothing like the darkness of Gravenwold had led me to expect.
"These woods once stretched across the entire north," she said, continuing past the waterfall.
"Do you think we should keep going? There's a volgur out there somewhere."
"I know," she picked up her skirts, and continued on. "Who do you think sent it?"
She sent it? "At least two men died because of that thing. Maybe more."
"You didn't heed the warning," she replied. "You didn't even share the warning, did you? Their lives are on your hands."
My blood ran cold. "You put that skull there for us."
"No. The draugur did that," she said. "To mark their territory. You encroach upon it at your own risk. They guard the Heart. And they only give one warning. Continue on at your own risk, Neva."
Draugur. I shivered. Monsters made from trees, and twisted with animal flesh.
"I unleashed the volgur to drive your men friends out. They should not be here."
"Why? What are you hiding here?"
"I will show you."
We picked our way through the forest, our steps blurring with each stride, as if we covered more than a yard.
"There was an empire to the north of us once," she murmured, moving through the trees at an unhurried pace.
"The Empire of Velide," I said. "Darkness crept out of the woods and tore it apart."
"Darkness?" she looked at me sharply, then gave a rough-edged chuckle. "Is that what they teach in your world of men?"
I shut my mouth, stung a little. "Nobody knows what truly happened. It was centuries ago."
Galina summoned a ball of pure light into her hands, like an oversized soap bubble. "I know."
Then she blew upon it, and the bubble enveloped us, sending me blinking into a new world.
We stood in a place drenched in sunlight, though it all seemed somewhat hazy. A mountain of stone loomed in front of us, and there were strange runes carved into the stone. When I turned around, I could see the river in the distance, sunlight winking off it, and the waterfall a mere trickle of its current rage. It was miles away.
Heavy stone lintels leaned against each other, carved with a twisted language I'd never seen before. My heart skipped a beat. Ruins of the empire? I'd thought them further north. Before us stretched the canopies of thousands of young trees.
A chill ran down my spine. We were in the past. What sort of magic was this?
"Gravenwold is not just a forest, it's a prison," Galina explained. "Long ago, the ancient gods fought the Darkness and trapped it deep within the ground beneath Gravenwold. They planted a thousand trees, the roots of which twined around the Darkness, and kept it secure. As long as the Heart of the Forest stands—the original thousand trees—the Darkness cannot escape.
"And to protect the trees, they created five guardians in Gravenwold; the unicorn, pure of spirit; the dragon with its almighty strength; the white hart, whispering dreams of destiny; the courageous griffin; and the firebird, symbol of sacrifice and rebirth."
As she spoke, shadows swirled out of the mist. A unicorn formed, gleaming so brightly beneath the sunlight I could barely see her. An enormous jumble of boulders began to take a sinuous shape, an unblinking amber eye opening and locking upon me. The hart darted through the trees. And a shadow rippled over us, turning my eye to the sky where an enormous set of wings flapped lazily past.
"Men hunted the unicorn for her horn."
The vision changed. Suddenly the unicorn was galloping through the forest, pursued by men with nets and spears. Blood smeared her flanks, and finally, finally they dragged her down, trapping her beneath nets made from the hair of virgins. One man raised his bloody spear, and I flinched away from the scene, screwing my eyes tight as it plunged....
"The griffin guarded the north of the woods, and when the empire began to cut down its trees so they could build their roads and forts, he was forced to fight back. They killed him too."
I saw a thousand tree stumps stretching across the horizon, and a creature collapsed among them, brought down by a mighty ballista. The light slowly faded from those eagle eyes, and then it was still.
"But in killing him, they weakened the balance. There were only three remaining guardians in Gravenwold, and the trees... They began to chop their way into the Heart. Darkness crept out of its prison, like a vaporous mist. Not the full force of the evil we guard against, but enough to bring ruin to the empire.
"The Darkness is Death, Neva. It is death that whispers through the night, a long-buried shadow trapped by the magic upon Gravenwold, and released only when its shackles are compromised. If not for the courage of the trinity—Ermady, Rior and Vashta—there would be no world left to walk upon. They were of the Old Blood—the people who lived in the forest's shadow and served the Guardians. When they went to fight the Darkness, they turned to the Old Ways to protect them. Vashta painted the symbol of purity upon her forehead in the unicorn's blood; Ermady ate the heart of the griffin, so he would have its sight and courage; and Rior... Rior was given the dragon's shadow, so he would have it watching over him as he fought. Only the hart, the firebird, and the dragon remained, to guard the heart.
"Together they rode north to the ruins of the empire, seeking the Darkness. They wounded it with spears cut from the branches of the Heart of the Forest, until it fled from them in fear. Wounded by battle, they drove it back to the forest. Rior fell, and where he lay, the dragon's shadow blighted the ground so no grass grows there. Crippled by the blow, the dragon turned to stone and you can hear the rumble of his growl beneath the earth at times, even now.
"Weakened by the loss of her lover, Vashta was driven to her knees. Forced to face the Darkness alone, Ermady was tricked by its illusions, and fell to despair. Only Vashta, with the purity of the unicorn's blood upon her forehead, was able to see through the Darkness's illusions. But she was weak, and she was injured, and she had lost her heart. The firebird found her and let her drink of its blood, so she would not feel her wounds. Knowing she was dying, Vashta made one last stand, and fought the Darkness back into its prison. And then she fell, right here where we stand, and the firebird wept over her body, grieving the loss of its fellow guardians, and the loss of three brave souls. And where those tears fell, water pooled, covering Vashta's body."
I released the breath I'd been holding, feeling the weight of the story on my shoulders. "The Well of Tears," I whispered, seeing it form before me, as though illusions had guarded it from my eyes. "It's real."
I sank to my knees beside the stone lip of the well, reaching for the shimmering waters—
"If you touch those waters, your choice is made," Galina's voice sounded like a whip crack.
I jerked my hand back. "Doesn't that suit your purpose?"
Then I'd be bound to serve her as a successor, whatever that meant.
"No. I would have you choose freely—or not at all. There are others who can bear my burden. Those with Vashta's blood in their veins... like the blood that flows through yours."
I looked up sharply.
"Her courage flows in you, Neva, gifted through your father's bloodline, which can be traced all the way back to the child Vashta left behind. Why do you think I spared his life? Only those of Vashta's line can guard Gravenwold, and I need someone to replace me when I'm gone. Someone who loves the forest as much as I do."
Vashta's blood flowed in my veins? I looked at my palms, slightly paler than my skin. All my life she'd been a myth. A legend. A saint of the forest.
"Unless you wish to drink," Galina whispered, filled her cupped hands with water and lifting it to my lips. "Drink to rouse the Old Blood in your veins, Neva. Be a hero. Fulfill your legacy."
Cheers echoed in my ears, and suddenly I could see the bloodied forest floor where Vashta fell. Men and women gathered to salute her, tears streaming down their faces as they turned her from a mere human who'd done what she had to, to a saint, revered and worshipped.
Alarms sounded, the same aching echo within me that had resisted the call of the White Hart. I didn't want to be a hero. No matter how
much the thought of glory tempted me.
I shook my head. "I can't."
I didn't want to be a witch either.
Galina let the water run through her fingers. "Second test passed," she said softly. "This is a burden I ask of you. Not glory. When they kill the firebird, you must come here," she said. "Only the waters will save you. Promise me you will come here to pass your third test."
Kill? I started to my feet. "There's nothing to say we will find her."
"You will. She is old and weary, and sees her death coming for her."
"But she... she will be reborn, yes?" Every story I'd ever heard told of the firebird erupting into flames that would die down, only to reveal a chick within.
"She will be reborn," Galina said sadly, capturing my face in both hands. "You cannot stop them from killing her, but you must promise me one thing, Neva Bane."
I nodded shortly.
"Do not let them take the new firebird to the city. She must belong here, in Gravenwold. The White Hart has forgotten what it once was. The dragon is asleep. Only the firebird remains vigilant. She must protect the forest and the waters from those who would take them. Don't let them take the firebird. Don't let them take the waters. Immortality is not a gift men should own. Or a new Darkness will rise, a conqueror who will stop at nothing to destroy the world."
Bubbles rose within the Well of Tears as if something was surfacing beneath its calm waters. I couldn't tear my gaze away. "I won't let them take the firebird," I said softly. "I swear on Vashta's well I shall do all in my power to stop them."
"And when she rises, you will come here," she repeated. "To the waters and drink."
Lost in the mesmerizing swirl of water, something about that tugged at me as wrong. "I don't want to drink the waters. I just want to go home."
"Neva," someone called.
"The choice will be yours, of course," said her voice, far too close to my ear.
"Neva!"
I blinked awake, lying in the furs, my heart hammering like a trapped animal in my chest. Casimir leaned over me, his fingers curled around my shoulders. "It's all right, Neva," he murmured. "You're safe, you're safe. Nothing can harm you now."