Queen of Wands (The Tree of Ages Series Book 4)

by Sara C. Roethle

  What kind of queen would she be if she couldn’t?

  A few hours passed as they traveled on foot, leading the two horses with the supplies behind them. Iseult would have preferred Finn ride, but she seemed to value his opinion less and less. Still, despite his foul mood, he couldn’t help but feel moderately impressed with the distant fortress ahead, even though he still believed Sormyr their best choice. He gazed up at the high walls in the distance, noting that they seemed structurally sound, despite being speckled green with moss and vines.

  The fortress stood on the border of the marshes. By his estimation, the boglands likely butted up against the unseen back portion of the fortress wall. The part they could currently see circled the courtyard and single structure within.

  Eywen’s Aos Sí had scouted ahead to ensure there were no enemies lurking. The three warriors came their way, their glistening black hair floating in the breeze. Eywen stepped forward as they arrived. The tallest of the warriors with eyes nearly black in color announced, “There is little danger, save a few marshland creatures lurking about.”

  Iseult began to assess what they would need in his mind. Candles or lamp oil, fresh water, and more food than they could likely hunt in the marshes, unless everyone was keen to survive off stringy swamp rodents.

  As if he knew Iseult’s thoughts, Eywen commented, “We can send the lesser Faie to search for supplies. There are enough abandoned farms along the Sand Road that most things should not be difficult to come by, though food may need to be purchased.”

  “With what coin?” Kai muttered, approaching them from behind with the supply bearing mounts. “I know I ran out long ago.”

  Ignoring Kai, Iseult turned back toward the fortress. “You speak as if we’ll be enduring here for months.”

  “Some of us may,” Eywen explained, “especially if we intend to move on to Sormyr. My men can disguise themselves well enough, but the other Faie will need a place to gather. This is as good as any. Better than most, really, as humans in these parts tend to keep to themselves.”

  “And it is far from Oighear’s domain,” one of his nearby men added.

  Iseult’s mind flashed on the days he’d spent with the Snow Queen, glad to be far from that place. At least that was a positive.

  “Let’s go inside,” Finn decided. “We can make further plans once everyone has had a chance to rest. If the Pixies find Sormyr in ruins like Migris, this may be the only respite we’ll find.”

  She walked toward the fortress walls, giving Iseult no choice but to follow. He noticed she seemed somehow more resolute now, less frightened. What had changed? Had their late night conversation actually made a difference in her way of thinking? If so, was it a positive one?

  He stalked after her, his hand hovering near the pommel of his sword just in case the Aos Sí had missed spotting any hidden dangers. His boots sunk into the moist, loamy ground with every step. It was no wonder the fortress had turned half-green.

  They reached the space where the gates had once stood, though now the iron was rusted, and one half of the gate hung askew. That would need to be remedied if they truly intended on staying there for any length of time.

  Finn wove her way around the fallen gate to enter the overgrown courtyard. Iseult followed closely after, observing the remnants of statues that still remained, along with the faint carvings on some of the stones that comprised the walls. The carvings seemed strange to him, swirling in odd patterns uncommon to any architecture he’d ever seen.

  Upon closer observation, the statues, once human figures, were just as unusual, made from smooth stone carved into ornate clothing interwoven with flowers and leaves. He passed a decapitated statue head, once a woman with long flowing hair, bedecked with a crown of holly. He continued to put the fallen shapes together in his mind. They were all nature deities.

  “To whom did this fortress belong?” he questioned, glancing back at Eywen and his men.

  “To the Druids,” Eywen explained, stopping to gaze up at the castle. “No one else would desire a fortress so remote.”

  Iseult took a step away from the nearest statue. The Druids had remained after the Faie faded away, only to be slaughtered by those who feared magic, and more so the Faie’s return.

  “We should not stay here,” he muttered, peering down at one of the toppled statues, likely broken by humans intent on destroying their fears. “Dark deeds tend to leave stains on places such as this.”

  Eywen continued walking. “The Oak Queen has nothing to fear from the spirits of Druids, I assure you.”

  Iseult glared at his back, then continued walking since Finn had already reached the fortress entrance. He was not sure if spirits truly remained, but could only hope Eywen was right.

  He watched as Finn pushed against the massive door, composed of heavy, moisture-rotted wood studded through with iron. She continued pushing until Kai and two of the Aos Sí moved to help her.

  Slowly, it creaked open, revealing the leaf-strewn stone floor leading inward.

  Iseult stole a final glance toward the gates, outside of which most of the Faie had decided to wait, then strode forward to enter the structure alongside the others.

  They were in the Great Room, dimly lit by rectangular windows set high up in the walls. Moss had crept inside, along with curling vines, creeping up walls scorched black by a fire long in the past. A few burnt remnants of furniture remained, but the room was otherwise vacant.

  The smell of smoke became prevalent as the tallest Aos Sí entered the castle with a crudely-made torch in hand.

  “See if there are any Henkies among the gathered Faie,” Eywen muttered to one of his men.

  “Henkies?” Finn questioned, staring up at the impossibly tall ceiling in awe.

  “The folk that live in the knolls,” Eywen explained. “They’re prone to gambling and mischief, but also quite good at cleaning.”

  Iseult couldn’t help his smirk. Here they were, on the run from Dark Faie and the Cavari, and Eywen was worried about rounding up Faieries to clean the ancient Druid castle.

  Two of his men turned back toward the exit, presumably to round up the Henkies.

  While Finn and Eywen walked toward the nearest hall to explore more of the abandoned castle, Kai moved to Iseult’s side.

  He cleared his throat, then whispered, “Please tell me I’m not the only one horribly unnerved to exploring a Druid fortress with scores of Faie waiting for us outside.”

  “You are not the only one,” Iseult replied, then increased his pace to catch up with Finn and Eywen, leaving Kai to take up the rear with Anna.

  As he neared Finn, concern pervaded his mind. The Faie might be useful when it came to scouting, and perhaps to cleaning, but that didn’t mean they were safe to be around. Perhaps they feared Finn enough to behave, but there was no saying what they might do if they got Kai, Anna, or himself alone.

  Bedelia and Àed led their horses on foot through the muck. It was too risky to ride, lest the extra weight cause one of the horses to slip and become stuck . . . though there wasn’t much they could do for Sativola’s horse, with Sativola’s belly draped over its back with arms and legs anchored with spare shirts on either side. It wasn’t a comfortable position, but it was all they could manage, and barely that. He had never regained consciousness, and he might be dead soon anyway, if he wasn’t already. Bedelia had been too afraid to check his pulse since they’d started traveling that morning. Àed held the reins of Sativola’s horse along with his, not seeming to care one way or another about his unconscious ward.

  “Is there nothing we can do for him?” Bedelia asked, even though she already knew the answer.

  Àed scowled, then paused to spit in the mud at their feet before ambling on. “Lad will be dead soon, then it will be yer choice whether we carry his body out for the proper rites.”

  Bedelia shook her head, then nearly slipped as she hopped over a puddle, misjudging the footing on the other side.

  “I hope Finn doesn’t blame
me for his death,” she sighed.

  Àed chuckled, surprising her. “Finn could never be angry at ye fer long, whether it’s yer fault or no. If it helps, ye can tell her ye valiantly rescued us both from the swamps.”

  She hung her head, not feeling valiant in the slightest. She’d only been spared harsh treatment because Keiren wanted something from her, and had only escaped because Niklas helped them through Keiren’s wards. Then once they’d entered the swamps, Àed had proven himself the savior, not her.

  Sativola groaned, the first sound he’d made since the previous night.

  They abruptly stopped walking. Handing her horse’s reins to Àed, she hurried toward the right side of Sativola’s horse, where his head dangled. She moved his curls out of his face, then recoiled. Skin that should have been flushed from his position was mottled and pale, showing every blue vein beneath the surface between patches of purple bruising.

  “What in Tirn Ail am I doin’ strapped to a horse?” Sativola groaned.

  Fighting a wave of guilt at transporting him like a sack of supplies, Bedelia hurried to untie the shirts holding him in place. His top half free, she hurried around Àed to the horse’s other side, released the final binding, then held Sativola steady as he slid down to his feet.

  Suprisingly, Sativola stepped away from her and stretched his arms, remaining erect while hitting her with a foul whiff of his rotting odor. He stretched his neck from side to side, then lifted his gaze. Pure, milky white eyes gazed back at her.

  “Step back, lass,” Àed commanded, grabbing her arm to pull her toward his side.

  She stumbled backward, her gaze riveted to Sativola’s mottled face.

  “He’s not himself any longer,” Àed hissed, pulling her further away with one hand, while struggling to manage the three horses with the other.

  As two of the horses started to panic, Bedelia took their reins from Àed, leaving him with his calmer horse.

  Sativola took a staggering step toward them as they retreated, then another.

  “Sativola?” she questioned.

  He tilted his head to the side, then snarled. “My mistress beckons. Give me my horse.”

  She flicked her gaze to Àed. “What should we do?”

  Àed shook his head, continuing to back away, putting the horses between themselves and Sativola. “I think he’s gone, lass, under the thrall of the creature that bit him.”

  She inhaled sharply. Would this have been her fate had Keiren not cleansed her bite?

  “Get on yer horse,” Àed instructed. “We’ll have to risk the mud, unless you want to kill him here and now.”

  Sativola took a few more shaky steps forward, causing the horses to dance nervously.

  “But we can’t just leave him,” she argued, backing further away. “There must be something we can do.”

  “Get on yer horse,” Àed ordered. “He’s a Faie creature now, just like any other in this swamp.” Following his own advice, Àed scurried up into his saddle, trotting his horse a few paces away before turning back around to keep Sativola in his sights.

  Before Bedelia could make up her mind, Sativola lunged, startling the remaining two horses. One reared up, nearly striking her with its front hooves. She dove aside, landing hard on her shoulder in the mud as the horse took off, leaving the other behind.

  Sativola rushed her as she struggled to her feet. She shoved him aside, nearly gagging at his pungent smell. He slipped in the mud and fell with a loud thwap, giving her enough time to calm her remaining horse and climb into the saddle.

  She trotted far out of reach, then turned her horse to face Sativola as he slowly struggled up from the mud. “If you’ll just calm down,” her voice trembled, “perhaps we can still help you.” Please listen, she silently urged. Don’t make me kill you.

  Sativola stared at her with his pure white eyes. Could he even understand what she was saying?

  “Leave it, lass,” Áed growled. “Trust that I can see things ye cannot. He’s gone, and he ain’t comin’ back.”

  She felt tears burning at the back of her eyes. If he was truly gone, she’d failed. If Finn or Iseult were there, they could have figured out a way to save Sativola where she could not.

  She walked her horse over to join Àed as Sativola began to stumble toward them.

  “You’re sure he can never come back?” she asked, glancing at the old conjurer.

  He nodded. “Aye, lass.”

  She sighed with deep sadness. Sativola slowly hobbled toward them, grunting animalistically under his breath. Perhaps she could not save him as Finn might have, but she could at least prevent his suffering. She retrieved the bow she’d strapped to the back of her horse, grateful that Sativola’s had been the one to run off.

  She tested the oversized weapon as Sativola slowly slipped and slid toward them. She withdrew an arrow from the quiver laced near her stirrup and threaded it onto the bow, aiming the weapon at Sativola.

  He didn’t even seem to notice.

  She glanced at Àed, who nodded. “It’s the kind thing to do.”

  She pulled back the arrow, carefully aiming directly at Sativola’s heart. She needed it to be a clean kill. If he struggled, it would haunt her dreams. Of course, she was sure to be haunted either way.

  She took a deep breath, then loosed her arrow.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Finn paced across the freshly scrubbed stone floor of the Druid fortress, enduring the ache in her feet from all those hours of walking. Last night’s rest had been scant. Even her bones were tired. Rain pattered outside, hopefully not enough to delay the Pixies. She knew they should be returning soon, first the ones sent toward Sormyr, followed by those sent to Garenoch.

  She was anxious to hear word of Ealasaid and Maarav, and even more anxious to discover if the Pixies had found Bedelia and Sativola.

  “How are you still on your feet?” Kai asked, lounging on the floor with his back pressed against the nearest wall, casually sharpening one of his daggers. The gleaming metal flickered in the flamelight from the fireplace.

  She scowled at him. Iseult was outside in the rain with Eywen, checking over the rest of the fortress, Anna had slunk off somewhere on her own that morning, and had been gone for hours, and Naoki had gone off to hunt, leaving Kai and Finn alone in the large chamber to wait out the storm. Kai had instantly settled in by the fire, but Finn felt unable to relax and enjoy its warmth.

  He raised an eyebrow at her, then patted the stones beside him, inviting her to sit.

  She approached, hands on the hips of her dirty breeches, and peered down at him. “Aren’t you worried?”

  He shrugged, then continued sharpening his blade. “This is far better than being stuck in a cave with the Dearg Due.”

  She frowned, then moved to sit beside him, leaning her back against the wall. “I’m sorry they took you,” she sighed. “That was entirely my fault.”

  He stopped sharpening, turning his face to smirk at her. “I only have your blood because you saved my life. You’ve nothing to apologize for.” He set his dagger aside. “Plus, the only reason they even kept me alive was because they thought I was one of the Dair. Weak Dair, they called me,” he added with a snort.

  She smiled at the name. “How could they tell you were weak?”

  “Well their bite almost killed me—” he cut himself off, then cursed.

  “Bite?” she gasped, her heart suddenly in her throat. Why hadn’t he said anything before? She moved to her knees so she could turn and peer directly at his face.

  He cringed. “I hadn’t wanted to worry you with that part.”

  “Where is it?” she demanded. She reached her hands toward him, prepared to search against his will. “Let me see it. Eywen said their bite wounds require cleansing.”

  He gently batted her hands away. “It’s fine. It healed.”

  She pulled her hands back, then attacked him with renewed vigor, pushing him to the floor. “Where,” she struggled, “is . . . it!” she demanded.
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  On his back, he held her partially aloft in vain. She would not relent until she saw the bite mark for herself. Perhaps Eywen would still be able to treat it, healed or no. She maneuvered to pin his arms down, then pushed his sleeves up one by one, checking the flesh of his biceps, since that’s where Anna had been bitten. Finding his arms unharmed she pushed his hair aside to check his neck, then gasped. A mound of scar tissue nestled near the base of his neck, just high enough to be hidden by his hair.

  He sighed and his body went limp against her prodding. “Are you pleased now? You can see that it’s healed.”

  Examining the healed wound closely, she reached out a finger and touched it. “The bite of the Dearg Due is supposed to possess the victim to become a willing slave,” she muttered, then sat back, releasing him. “Do you feel any different?”

  He sat up, scowling at her. “I told you I feel fine.”

  “Then why hide the bite?” she questioned, unable to quell the nagging doubt within her. She would not lose another friend, especially not Kai. She needed to protect him. “I know you haven’t even told Anna,” she pressed. “She would have told me if you had.”

  “Anna can keep a secret,” he argued.

  Finn shook her head. Anna wasn’t much for secrets. She preferred to blurt out uncomfortable truths right to your face. “If she thought you might be in danger, she would have told me.”

  Kai rolled his eyes, repositioning himself to sit against the wall. “I just didn’t need anyone worrying over me,” he explained, “and I didn’t need Iseult killing me in my sleep on the belief that I might be a threat. I truly do feel fine. Better than fine, really.”

  “Better than fine?” she pressed. “What do you mean?”

  He raked his fingers through his hair, a sign she recognized well.

  “There’s something else!” she accused. “Spit it out.”

  Lowering his hand, he scowled at her. “How do you do that?”

  Sitting before him, she crossed her arms and waited, unwilling to give away the subtle clue. If she did, he’d probably never rake his fingers through his hair again, then she wouldn’t know when he was hiding something.