by Cindy Dees
Rumor at court was that he and Endellian were close. The princess generally kept company with a small cadre of the offspring of the archdukes, and, of course, her own brothers and sisters, of whom Laernan was one. It was a strange position that particular group found itself in, heirs to titles held by immortals—eternal limbo. At least Laernan seemed to have found himself a useful niche at court.
Gabrielle’s gaze shifted to the Emperor’s Master of Hounds. Another frightening individual. He apparently had figured out how to breed specific lines of mastiff-like hounds who could track and hunt down extremely specific targets. Certain hounds tracked down fae creatures. Others tracked psionically capable beings or elementals. Apparently, the pack he’d brought to Haraland hunted Children of Fate.
Which was a serious problem. A Child was known to live in the local area. She must get word to the man as soon as possible. And in the meantime, she must delay the master from running his hounds. Gabrielle motioned the castle steward near and murmured to him, “Open a cask of our best wine and keep it flowing to our guests.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Regalo glanced over at her, his right eyebrow lifted in question.
She answered his unspoken question innocently, “We would not want the Emperor to think that we show his servitors anything other than our most lavish hospitality, would we?”
Regalo made a sound of agreement.
Mentally, she winced. He must not suspect anything. Not if she wished him to live … which she desperately did. He must never find out that she had received an anonymous note just before the meal with a crude compass etched in its wax seal that suggested that the latest search for Children of Fate be thwarted as much as possible.
She could certainly understand the logic of keeping the gifted seers out of the Emperor’s clutches. Forcing him to operate blind was a clever tactic. But why now? He’d been using Children of Fate seers for as long as anyone at court could remember. Her curiosity bordered on painful in its intensity, even though she knew it likely that her questions would never be answered.
Her mission was merely to serve in silence and secrecy. To knock a chip or two out of the foundation upon which the Eternal Empire rested. She must satisfy herself with that. To do more would risk drawing too much attention to herself, if not outright discovery. And that would be disastrous. All the work of her co-conspirators would be for naught if Maximillian caught wind of their slow, careful work.
Who knew how many years’ worth of effort would be wasted? Her guess was that the Eight’s work stretched back for centuries, if not longer. The thought was mind-boggling. But how else could anyone stand against the Emperor? It would take the combined efforts of generations of resisters to defeat him.
Regalo commented casually, “Did I tell you that the Master of Hounds has trained a new type of hound and two of them are with him? Laernan came in person to see them hunt.”
She had ducked in the stable earlier to peek at the great fawn-colored beasts whose heads came easily to her waist. She’d assumed they were psionic hounds bred and trained to sniff out psionic abilities within people. It was said the hounds could smell a psionicist a league away and could track one up to five days after a scent trail was laid.
“Special hounds?” she asked lightly. “What do they hunt?”
He tore off a chunk of bread and spread berry butter on it as he answered, “Prophets and seers, apparently. Children of Fate, in particular.”
Her fingers went white around the chalice she clutched. “How do you suppose he trained them to do something like that?”
Regalo swallowed the bread before answering, “No idea. Impressive, though. Apparently, a Child has been tracked into Haraland. High Hunter Lovak and High Inquisitor Laernan are taking the beasts out tomorrow to finish the hunt. Thought I might ask to go with them and see the hounds in action.”
“What hour do you leave? Should I have Cook serve breakfast here or prepare rations for in the field?”
“After breakfast will be soon enough to start out, I’m sure. No need for these things to be uncivilized affairs. After all, they hunt humans, not wild animals.”
She made a noncommittal sound as her mind raced. She must get word now to the Child of Fate in Haraland to hide. Or, better, flee. Whom could she trust with such an errand? Deeter. One of Krugar’s men. He’d retired from the army a while back. Worked as a gardener, now, on the castle grounds. “An early breakfast on the morrow. And a picnic I should think for during your hunt. Shall I have Cook pack a supper as well?”
“I think not,” Regalo replied casually. “How long can it take to hunt down one fugitive seer once the Emperor’s hounds pick up the trail?”
She restrained an urge to run as she excused herself and left the room.
* * *
Will looked around in wonder as the dryads ushered the party into their magical grove. It was fully as beautiful as the hearth tales said faerie places were. A strange sense of familiarity came over him as he looked around this place and its exotic occupants. He’d never seen a dryad or a dryad grove before, yet he recognized this place.
“This is a mistake, I tell you,” Cicero muttered. “Handing ourselves over to these sorceresses is madness.”
“Relax and enjoy the moment, man,” Kendrick replied, busking Cicero on the shoulder. “They’re beautiful and like us. Enjoy their charms a little. It would be an insult not to.”
Rosana rolled her eyes. “Just because a pretty lady offers you poison candy doesn’t mean you ought to eat it.”
“Exactly,” Cicero agreed fervently.
The good-natured bickering continued as the dryads laid and lit a fire, produced a metal spit, and commenced roasting a delicious-smelling cut of meat. Will recognized the scent of venison. His mouth watered in anticipation.
He studied the faerie creatures surreptitiously. They appeared young and as inhumanly beautiful as the hearth tales described. They dressed in brief green skirts made of what looked like leaves. Their upper bodies were adorned only with lush garlands of ivy and flowers. Tantalizing glimpses of the curves of their breasts riveted his attention.
Cicero made a sound of disgust. “Do not make eye contact with them, human. They will ensorcel you in seconds.”
Will looked over his shoulder at the elf, who still gazed steadfastly at his toes. “Really? I thought their effect on men was only the stuff of bedtime stories.”
“We are the stuff of bedtime stories, you gorgeous young thing,” one of them cooed.
“For pity’s sake,” Rosana grumbled. “Do they charm women as well, Cicero?”
“Nay. Just males. It is satyrs that women must worry about.”
Will noticed Sha’Li grinning like a well-fed cat. Suspicion blossomed in his gut. “Are these dryads dangerous?” he asked bluntly.
As soon as the question came out of his mouth the answer bubbled up from somewhere deep in his mind. The dryads would not attack unless attacked. They could be exceedingly dangerous in a fight because of their ability to enslave males to their will. But in and of themselves, they posed little risk. Knowledge rose unbidden in his mind that the tree a being was bound to helped shaped their spirit, and rowan trees imbued a spirit with peace, idealism, and a drive to defend against the storm and evil magics. However, dryads were not above toying with males and amused themselves by charming men into being their love slaves.
How he knew all that he had no idea. But he was certain of the knowledge. Mayhap the other spirit inside him was whispering to him somehow.
Or mayhap he was losing his mind. No one in the Heart had uttered the word “possession” when High Matriarch Lenora announced that a second spirit was trapped within Will, but the possibility of it had hung heavy in the air. And Rosana had been adamant about coming with him on this journey. Was she here to keep an eye on him? To take action against him if he should prove to be possessed? Would she kill him if it came to it?
Cicero snorted. “Depends on who you talk to whether or no
t they think dryads are dangerous. The women of my clan think they’re deadly.”
This made the dryads laugh with a trilling, dove-like noise.
“Come share our fire, my lovely young warrior,” one of them said to Will. She sidled close to him, trailing an impossibly soft hand across his cheek. As she pressed her body against the length of his, he started when her knee lifted gently, her inner thigh caressing the front of his leg.
Rosana cleared her throat. “With all due respect, ladies, he is not exactly yours to crawl over.”
One of the green nymphs shot a glare in the gypsy girl’s direction. “He is yours, then? Bound to you by sacred vows?”
“Well, no—”
More laughter. “Then he’s certainly free to play with us again, you silly human.”
Rosana flared up, “Leave him alone.”
“Temper, temper,” one of them taunted lightly.
What did she mean, “play with us again”? he opened his mouth to ask, but looked up sharply at the sound of some sort of commotion just beyond the ring of rowan trees. That sounded like soldiers. He motioned urgently for silence and the male members of their party edged toward the shadows, weapons drawn.
He caught snatches of the whispered argument between Anton’s men.
“… know that place. It’s Hawksong Grove. Haunted it be.”
“…’taint haunted. Fae infested, it be.”
“… Dryads in there?… Ain’t getting paid enough to tangle with them green witches.…”
“… can’t go in there.”
“… won’t go in there!”
“… they’s gotta come out sometime … assuming them witches don’t kill ’em all. I say we wait.…”
Kendrick motioned Will and the others away from the margin of the clearing and back to the fire. The younger Hyland announced, “We’re safe so long as we stay in here. But Anton’s entire army could surround the grove and we would never get out.” He didn’t sound too broken up over that prospect. Will rolled his eyes.
Eben commented in his baritone hum, “We eat and rest, and leave under cover of darkness, then?”
“The sooner the better,” Cicero responded. He glared at Kendrick and added, “And no looking at them. We’ll never get you out of here if they manage to charm you more deeply. Understood?”
Kendrick sighed. “But they’re so pretty. And so friendly. We must stay and protect them!”
Cicero groaned and Will echoed the sentiment.
“No dalliances,” Eben declared. “Marikeen is missing, and I’ve got to get this blasted mark off my face.” A pause. Then he added more uncertainly, “But they are lovely, are they not? And frail. They could use some decent warriors to protect them from Anton and his men…” His voice trailed off as one of the dryads all but climbed his big body and commenced whispering in her ear.
“Agreed,” Kendrick declared. “We will stay and protect the dryads from Anton’s men.”
Cicero traded significant looks with Will, who nodded back grimly. The two of them were agreed. When it came time to leave, they would knock Kendrick out if they had to.
The four of them headed back to the fire. As the party seated itself on logs rolled into a circle around the blaze, Will risked glancing at the dryads. Their skin undulated in hue even as he watched from a pale mint color to the rich emerald of summer leaves. He couldn’t really tell them apart, so regular and similar were their facial features.
One of them slid closer to Cicero on his log, and Will noted with amusement that a fine sheen of perspiration had broken out upon the elf’s brow as he struggled to keep his eyes off the creature now practically sitting in his lap. For Will’s part, two dryads wasted no time cuddling up to him and making cozy.
“Mmm, you’re warm.”
“Oooh, strong muscles. Hard and bold.”
A soft hand raked through his hair.
As Kendrick and Eben flirted back freely with the creatures, clearly lost in whatever spell the dryads had placed upon them, Will frowned. While these sprites were certainly easy on the eye, he found himself unimpressed with their aggressive flirting. He reached up to gently disentangle one of them from around his neck. “Sorry, ladies. Not interested.”
The one who did most of the talking reared back. “You do not like females?”
Sha’Li snorted with laughter, and Rosana and Raina grinned broadly.
“I like girls just fine, thank you very much.”
“Then why are you not interested in me? Am I ugly? Do I repel you in some way?” The dryad seemed genuinely distressed that he wasn’t falling all over himself to become her plaything. Will glanced up at her, then realized his mistake. Her emerald green eyes pierced into his, capturing his gaze and holding it as power poured forth from her.
Will frowned. Looked away from her and over at Cicero. “You okay, buddy?” he asked the elf.
Cicero had his eyes tightly squeezed shut now, and sweat poured down his face. “Must … not … look…,” the kindari gritted out from between clenched teeth.
Will looked back at the dryads draped all over him. What was the big deal? This time he looked directly at the females. Both of them frowned in concentration, obviously doing their best to do whatever it was they did to most men.
He shrugged. Grinned apologetically. “Sorry, ladies. You are very attractive, and I appreciate your interest. But I’ve had a long day and I could use some sleep. If you don’t mind, it looks like my friends have had about all they can take, too.”
All three dryads froze, staring in shock. He stared back at them, perplexed by how confounded they seemed.
“Who are you?” one of them whispered.
“I am Will. Uhh, Will Cobb.”
“You are well named. Will, indeed,” another murmured.
The one who appeared to be the leader of the pack stared at him long and hard. Finally, she said soberly, “I know not who or what you are, young human. But I will tell you this—and it comes from a servant of the Green Lady herself, so I speak truth. Someone dangerous comes this way. And he comes for you, strange human.”
That was the second time someone had told him that. Will snorted. “So what’s new?”
The dryad stared at him intently, not as if trying to control his mind but as if willing him to take her seriously.
“All right. Fine,” he replied to her unspoken demand, “I believe you. I will have a care for my safety.”
She nodded, relieved.
“Do you know who comes for me, then?” he asked her.
“Nay. I only know the message I was given. Safe travels unto you strange human.” As one, the dryads rose gracefully, stepped up to the nearest tree trunks, and disappeared into them. Just melted right into the solid wood.
Will stared. “Did they just—”
“Tree walk,” Eben replied, relief that the creatures had left palpable in his voice. “They move from tree to tree that way. They’re forest spirits.”
Will jolted. The world as he knew it shifted upon its axis. He’d heard stories of tree walkers but had always guffawed at the tales, knowing them to be pure fiction. But if dryads truly did exist … what other legends and fairy tales of his childhood might also be true?
Like stories of long-ago kings sleeping in wait for a time when they would be needed once more. Until now, his father’s quest had been a hypothetical thing. He had been going through the motions out of respect for his parents’ memories. But of a sudden it hit him: What if their quest was real? What if a king did exist with the power to throw off the yoke of Koth?
And of more immediate concern, what other magical or fantastic creatures were out here lurking in the forest? He glanced at the ancient rowans around him, suddenly feeling like a stranger in a strange land. What else didn’t he know about these woods … or about the wider world?
* * *
Raina was too keyed up after the bandit attack to sleep for the remainder of the night. Which was why, deep in the night, she heard Kendrick creep away f
rom his bed and one of the dryads emerging from her tree quietly coo in greeting. Raina rolled her eyes and stuffed her fingers in her ears.
She woke a little before the gray of dawn, and while Cicero scouted out the locations of Anton’s men the others quietly broke camp. Whatever hold over Kendrick and Eben the dryads had before, it appeared to have been released. Likewise, if their pursuers had posted any guards in the night, they were all sleeping like babes, now. Whether from lack of discipline among them or the machinations of their dryad hostesses, she could not tell. Either way, she was deeply relieved that they would not have to fight their way out of the grove.
The party slipped quietly from the grove and Cicero led them around the sleeping bandits or soldiers or whatever their attackers had been. The dryads did not make another appearance, for which the male members of their group seemed relieved.
That annoying lizardman girl insisted on tagging along. Something about not leaving until Will handed over that wooden disk of his to her. Raina wished he could just do it and get rid of the surly female. But no such luck.
Their odd little party set out, everyone watching everyone else with veiled suspicion to one degree or another. Not exactly an auspicious start for this journey of theirs. Rosana was furious with Sha’Li for attacking Will. Will was angry at the lizardman girl on Rosana’s behalf. Eben was angry at Kendrick for dallying with the dryads, Kendrick was angry at Eben for being angry, and Sha’Li was angry at everyone, it seemed.
They trudged along, mostly silent through the morning, for which Raina was grateful. It was better than the bickering her brothers—her half brothers, she corrected herself bitterly—would have engaged in under the same circumstances.
They stopped for lunch, and the conversation turned to what threat the dryads might have been trying to warn Will of the previous night. The consensus was that a superpowerful dryad who could command Will’s mind was en route to restore the dryads’ reputations. For some reason, she and the other girls in the party found the whole notion much funnier than the fellows did.