The Blood Forest (The Tree of Ages Series Book 3)

by Sara C. Roethle

  The woman sneered. “I’ll open the door. How about that?”

  Niklas nodded. “Acceptable.”

  With a final scowl for both of them, she marched past Niklas and muttered words at the doors. They both swung inward. She muttered more words under her breath at the guards, and they remained perfectly still, never once looking at her.

  “They won’t remember her,” Niklas explained, moving to Anders’ side. “And we should escape this room while the spell still lasts.” He glanced at Lissandra, still on the plush rug covering most of the floor. “She’s not likely to remember either. I recommend we leave her where she lay.”

  Anders glanced at Lissandra, still confused. “I thought you were searching for a certain tome.”

  “Yes,” Niklas sighed. “To give to her.” He gestured in the direction the woman had gone. “Now let us find your family. I’m sure they’ll offer you a fine meal.”

  Anders’ stomach dropped, his thoughts torn away from the red-haired woman. Ceàrdaman and strange, magic-wielding women he could handle. His mother’s disapproving eye was another matter entirely. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he followed Niklas forward, resigned to his frightening fate.

  CHAPTER SIX

  F inn woke up cold and alone. At one point during the night, she’d woken to relieve Bedelia from her watch duties, then later Bedelia had gotten back up to stand watch with Ealasaid, while Kai got some rest. Now the extra bedroll beside her was empty, but she could hear voices not far off.

  She sat up and watched her breath fog the air. By the gods it was cold. Steeling herself against the forthcoming discomfort, she wiggled out of her bedroll and stood, straightening her breeches and corset. As Kai had suggested, she’d slept with her boots on, leaving her feet sweaty and sore. All for nothing, obviously, since they’d needed no quick escape.

  Catching the sound of voices again, she hurried toward the noise, soon spotting the source. What she found filled her with joy. Perhaps her journey would not be derailed after all.

  Seeing her, Iseult ended his conversation with Kai and approached. He smiled down at her warmly. A smile that, she was beginning to realize, was reserved only for her. “We thought we’d let you rest awhile,” he explained.

  Maarav and his men stood several paces back, tending their horses. She spotted Iseult and Maarav’s large warhorses, along with four new ones.

  “Naoki?” she asked hopefully, searching around for the dragon.

  Iseult shook his head. “Kai explained what happened, but we did not see her.”

  She held a hand against her stomach, and the sudden knot that blossomed there. Had she been killed?

  Iseult placed a comforting hand on her bicep, and she allowed herself a shuddering exhale.

  “I was worried you wouldn’t be able to find us,” she muttered finally, then glanced at the nearby horses, “but I see you’ve not only done that, but have gone far beyond.”

  Iseult frowned and withdrew his hand from her arm. “The soldiers we fought were undertrained. It was not difficult to escape with the horses. We led them on a chase for much of the night, then circled back around to find you.”

  Anna approached from the nearby trees, looking tired and irritable. “You’re welcome for that,” she said snidely. “It’s fortunate you’re so . . . shiny, else we might not have found you so quickly.”

  Finn sighed, knowing Anna was talking about seeing her magic. It suddenly dawned on her that if Anna could see it, others likely could too. Was that how the Ceàrdaman had found her in Migris? And the Cavari who’d stolen her away through the earth? She stifled a shiver. She should probably learn how to hide her . . . shine, but the only person she knew to ask how was Àed.

  Iseult softly cleared his throat, startling her back into awareness. Reading her worries, he comforted, “Perhaps Naoki will still find you. She should be able to follow your scent from quite a distance.”

  She nodded, but wasn’t hopeful. “Let’s go,” she muttered, glancing at Anna as she walked away toward the horses. She’d need to ask Anna more about her shininess, but in that moment, she didn’t have the heart. Later.

  Nodding to herself, she walked with Iseult as everyone congregated around the horses. She ended up riding with Bedelia, while Ealasaid and Anna rode together. Anna had complained that it wasn’t fair that only the men should get their own horses, but she really couldn’t argue against the fact that she and Ealasaid weighed less than any of the men, except maybe Tavish, who had already graciously offered to share a horse with any of the women.

  Finn, however, had not complained about riding with Bedelia. They had ridden together all the way to Migris once, and she took comfort in riding together once again. She’d formed more of a bond with Bedelia than she’d managed with either Ealasaid or Anna, and knew she could trust her. Soon enough Bedelia had managed to unsour Finn’s mood, though her heart still ached for Naoki. Still, they chatted happily as they rode through the woods, avoiding the Sand Road for fear of running across An Fiach.

  It was clear that the threat of the Faie was heavy on everyone’s minds. It was not wise to travel through the woods, but they had little choice. Hopefully the next Faie they came across would be friendly, like the tree-like Trow. They seemed to like her, and could perhaps elaborate upon what the young Merrow girl had said, which she had yet to tell Iseult.

  She glanced in his direction, but he was intent on watching their surroundings. Yes, she still needed to tell him what the Merrow girl had said, even though he knew better than most that all must fear the Dair.

  MAARAV TIGHTENED the bandage on his arm as they rode, annoyed that the young soldier had gotten through his defenses enough to cause minor damage. Still, he was glad he’d judged the situation well. The extra horses had everyone in high spirits, chattering amongst themselves rather than eyeing him suspiciously. Banding together against the soldiers had also taken some of the attention off Tavish and Rae for what happened to Anna’s men. They were all comrades in arms now.

  He glanced around at his party as they rode on. Silvery clouds were forming in the sky, casting occasional shadows across the group. It almost seemed cold enough to snow, though given the season, the sun should have been beating down on their backs. He doubted it was just the Faie’s presence affecting the weather. There was no mention of unseasonable cold in the accounts of the Faie war. Something else was going on. It was as if the earth itself had taken notice, and was trying to freeze its inhabitants into submission. Hopefully it would freeze An Fiach first.

  He hadn’t expected that additional complication. There were already too many complications. First, the Faie were highly unpredictable. It was difficult to tell if they had a leader, or just acted upon impulse. The attack on Migris had definitely been organized, but was it an isolated event, or a hint of what was to come? Then there were the Reivers. They’d heard no word of them so far, but he knew they would pop up again as the land fell further into chaos. An Fiach seemed to be the largest local faction, but the great cities had their own militaries.

  At the center of it all were Finn’s people, the Cavari. Iseult had not divulged much, but if Finn was back, the others likely were too.

  Maarav was yet to choose his side in it all. He knew Slàine, the woman who had cared for him like she was her own son, would want him to be on the side of the highest bidder, but he’d never been overly motivated by coin, nor was he motivated by power. While he had made a few allegiances over his lifetime, they did not drive his day to day life. What drove him was the only game he’d ever known, to come out on top of any situation thrown his way. The game had occupied most every moment of his life, a life that was nothing more than waiting to see what happened when a soulless man died.

  He shook his head. It was better not to think about that. For now, he needed to focus on the most imminent threat of An Fiach, and why they now wanted Finn. Someone must have reported just who she was, else so many men would never be sent after a single girl. Kai was likely but an extra tok
en, wanted for his associations with her.

  Something wet hit his cheek. He looked up to see a gentle white flurry descending upon them. It was actually snowing in the middle of the warm season. Maarav couldn’t help but feel that perhaps even he was out of his depth. The snowfall began to thicken, making it difficult to see through the already dense trees surrounding them.

  Iseult rode up by his side, looking grim as snowflakes gathered in his dark hair. “Keep your eyes open for shelter,” he advised. “We’re not outfitted for this type of weather.” He peered around at the falling snow like it was an enemy that had suddenly ambushed them. A fitting analogy, really, since most only had light cloaks to ward away the cold.

  They rode on in silence as the others oohed and aahed about the snow. Maarav did not ooh, nor did he ahh. It was a pretty sight, but it could quickly turn deadly. At least An Fiach would have trouble tracking them as the snow slowly covered up their passing.

  The trees thinned as they continued onward, leaving the riders fully unguarded from the icy flurry. The complaints of it being too cold began. Maarav scanned the land, freshly painted a crisp white.

  “Over there,” he stated to Iseult, catching sight of a large structure.

  Iseult narrowed his gaze in the direction Maarav pointed, then nodded. “I will ride ahead.”

  He took off without further explanation, though Maarav knew he was likely scouting for dangers. Glad to let his brother handle the risky work, he turned to halt the other riders.

  Finn and Bedelia reached him first. The hoods of their cloaks were pulled up over their heads, Finn’s a forest green, and Bedelia’s a dark brown that would easily blend in with most surroundings.

  “Iseult has gone to scout our shelter,” he explained as the others reached them.

  Anna seemed to have gotten over her irritation at sharing a horse, and now huddled close to Ealasaid for warmth. “I assumed we would ride on through the weather,” she commented around her chattering teeth.

  “Unwise,” Tavish replied before Maarav could. “This is no natural storm.”

  “Obviously,” Anna snapped. “Which is why we should continue riding until we’re out of it.”

  “Too dangerous,” Rae chimed in. “We would be fools to risk the horses.”

  Anna snorted. “You two sure picked the perfect time to begin offering input.”

  Neither of the men replied, but they were right. The snow was beginning to pile above the horses’ fetlocks. There was no predicting the duration of the downfall, nor how far the storm spanned.

  A hazy shape appeared from the direction Iseult had gone, soon revealing itself to be the man in question. He wordlessly gestured for all to follow him.

  Maarav turned his horse, taking a final look at the suddenly unrecognizable, empty expanses around them. While he was grateful they’d found shelter, he had the odd feeling that once they slept, they might not find their way back again.

  BEDELIA TOSSED and turned in her bedroll. The shelter Iseult had scouted was the remains of a castle, long since fallen to disrepair. Fortunately, most chambers had a roof, granting the horses and riders a reprieve from the snow.

  The fire still blazed in the center of the expansive room where they had all congregated, their bedrolls circling the warm flames. One bedroll was notably empty. Iseult was prowling around in the snow outside, keeping an eye out for anyone who might attack them in the middle of a blizzard.

  Bedelia’s hand flexed around her dagger, concealed within her bedding. Was now the time? Her mission was to eliminate Finn’s protectors, namely Iseult. Would she be able to sneak up on him in the blizzard?

  Cold sweat beaded on her brow as she slowly sat up. Everyone in the room was motionless, and judging by the gentle sounds of snoring, fast asleep after the exhausting ride through the snow. If she killed him now, what would she do? Try to run off in the blizzard? Pretend he was murdered by bandits?

  No, it was likely best to wait, but she could at least check outside to see if an opportunity presented itself. Her stomach in knots, she slid the rest of the way out of her bedroll, silently sheathing her dagger at her side. She crept around the fire and her sleeping companions toward the place she’d hung her cloak on the wall to dry, above her damp boots.

  She tugged on her boots, lacing them haphazardly before wrapping the thick fabric of her cloak around her shoulders. With a final glance back in the direction of her sleeping companions, she ventured onward, stepping lightly down the stone corridor that would lead her outside. Cool moonlight filtered through the missing top portion of the door at the end of the hall, though the rest of the ancient wooden door stood fast against the elements.

  Reaching the entrance, Bedelia wrapped her gloved hand around the rusted iron bar holding the door shut. She slid it back, then pulled the door open. The air that streamed in was so cold it hurt to breathe. Beyond the doorway was a dazzling display of white. The snow had continued to fall while they rested, enough to nearly reach Bedelia’s knees. There was no sign of Iseult’s footprints on top of the snowbank, but he’d gone outside sometime ago, so they had likely been covered. Fortunately, the snowfall had ceased, else she might have turned back around to resume her warm spot in her bedroll by the fire.

  She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly, fogging the air in front of her face. Steeling herself, she stepped out into the night, not sure what she intended. Perhaps Iseult could be reasoned with, and convinced to leave Finn’s side for a time so she wouldn’t have to kill him . . . and perhaps the sky was really green and horses could fly.

  She gently pulled the door shut behind her, then made her way through the snow. Her boots crunched down through the ice, making it near impossible to walk without stumbling. Eventually she reached level ground where the snow had not piled quite so high. Stopping to steady herself, she scanned the glittering darkness. Everything was still.

  She started walking in a randomly chosen direction, staying near enough to the castle perimeter to not lose sight of it. Truly, she hoped she would not find Iseult at all, and she could return to her bed like nothing had ever happened.

  She wrapped her cloak more tightly around herself. Keiren had the sight, so Bedelia knew it was a possibility she was watching her at that very moment, but she also knew it was difficult for Keiren to see those surrounding Finn, so perhaps not. Would she know if Bedelia simply gave up on her orders, choosing instead to remain by Finn’s side where she could not be seen?

  She shook her head at her cowardly thoughts. It was not in her nature to hide, but it was against her better senses to fight a battle she could not win. Keiren would crush her like an insect beneath her boot.

  Perhaps if she told Finn the truth, they could figure out a solution together. She wasn’t sure exactly what Keiren wanted with Finn, but she knew it wasn’t good. Perhaps together, she and Finn could both survive.

  She continued walking, so absorbed in her thoughts that she forgot to search for Iseult. Instead she watched the glittering snow beneath her boots. The transformed landscape was stunning, really, especially in the cool moonlight, though it was hard to enjoy since it was so cold.

  She froze mid-step as a shiver ran up her spine, and not from the cold. She sensed a presence at her back seconds before a low growl met her ears. Thoughts of Faie wolves raced through her mind, and her old leg wound seemed to throb with the memory.

  Her breath caught in her throat. She turned slowly and drew her dagger, wishing desperately she hadn’t left her bow inside with her other belongings.

  She saw not Faie wolves, but three normal ones. Their eyes glistened in the moonlight as their paws crunched forward through the snow. She drew her blade, knowing the odds were against her. Her hands were nearly numb with the cold, and the wolves looked emaciated, desperate for a meal. If there were only two of them, perhaps she could have fended them off, but with three, they would easily be able to flank her. All it would take was a bite to a leg tendon and she would go down.

  She took a he
sitant step back, and the wolves darted forward. She held up her blade to fend off the first attack, blinded as a flash of fiery light cut across her vision. Someone stepped between her and the wolves, pushing her back while waving a burning torch toward the feral creatures.

  The animals backed away, frightened more by the fire than they ever would be of a blade.

  “Stay near me,” the man with the torch said, and Bedelia realized with a start that it was Iseult.

  He herded her behind him, keeping the wolves at bay with his fire as they backed toward the castle where their friends slept. The wolves snapped at the flames, urged on by their hunger. Bedelia’s breath hissed in and out through gritted teeth. She had just come so close to death. After all she’d endured in life, it almost seemed oddly poetic that it could have ended that way, with her nothing more than a meal in a wolf’s belly.

  When they reached the snowbank in front of the door, she stepped back and her foot sank. She lost her balance and began to fall, but Iseult’s free hand darted back and caught her wrist, holding her steady. Her breath caught in her throat as she noted the wolves’ hungry expressions, made menacing with shadows from the firelight. If she would have gone down, they would have pounced, fire or no.

  “Keep moving,” Iseult ordered.

  Nodding to herself, Bedelia trudged backward through the deeper snow until her icy hands hit solid wood. Keeping her gaze on the wolves and Iseult, she pushed the door open and stepped into the hall. Iseult followed her, keeping the torch between himself and the wolves until he was inside, then quickly pushed the door shut and slid the iron bar into place.

  Scratching, whining, and a few thuds could be heard as the wolves tested the door, then all was silent.

  Iseult turned toward her, torch still in hand, lighting his face and the hall around them. The snowflakes that had gathered in his black hair and on his shoulders began to melt, leaving dark stains of moisture in their place.