He knew, perhaps, he should fear her new role, and her magical capabilities. Only a fool would care more for the fate of the dangerous creature beside him, than for himself or his countrymen.
He sighed. So then he was a fool, but he’d never claimed to be anything else.
LATER THAT EVENING, Maarav finally found a moment to be alone with Slàine, while their respective companions rested from their long journeys.
“How could you not have told me?” he finally balked at her prolonged silence. “You practically raised me.”
He looked to the woman he thought of as his mother in many ways. The woman who had taught him to fight. Taught him to kill. She was just as deadly now as ever.
Slàine smirked at his half-empty brandy mug, letting him know she’d been watching just how many times he’d had it refilled . . . which probably meant too many, though he’d long since lost count.
He followed her gaze as she glanced at Finn and the others, sharing drinks around a separate table, along with Tavish, who’d seemed glad to rejoin the group after having faced down the Cavari.
“I knew you might have conflicting interests,” Slàine said distantly. She turned back to him. “Were you aware that I knew your mother before you were sent to us?”
His eyes widened. “I was aware she knew someone within Áit I Bhfolach. I did not know that it was you.”
“You know better than to speak the name of our home out loud,” she hissed, then hunched back into her seat, “but yes, it was I your mother made her bargain with. She wanted to take her sons to Migris, and I wanted one of her sons in return.”
He pursed his lips in thought. Part of him felt like he should be angry, but the wounds of abandonment were so old, he could not muster any ire. “Why are you telling me this?”
She snatched his cup from his hand and emptied the rest of his brandy down her throat. Handing the empty mug back, she answered, “So that you will understand why I kept my secret from you. Your mother confided in me of your curse, and of her need to save her boys. I also knew that one of the three queens would be a Cavari woman who would spend a century melded with the earth as a mighty oak, after cursing your people. When the Faie sightings increased, I knew she was soon to return, and I spread word of the bounty.”
Maarav nodded. “Yes, so you could have Finn brought to you, and you could decide what to do with her to stop the prophecy from being fulfilled. I still don’t know what that has to do with me.” He raised his empty mug to gain the barmaid’s attention, but she seemed to be busy with their companions.
“Honestly,” Slàine replied tiredly, “I had hoped to use you as a bargaining tool. If she agreed to my terms, I could hand over one of the last members of your clan. She cursed your people once. I thought maybe she’d hate the bloodline still.”
His mouth fell open. “So you raised me up to be slaughtered? Am I nothing more than a tasty pig to you?”
Slàine scowled. “Why do you think I encouraged you to go off to Migris without any of our people? I changed my mind.”
He leaned back against his chair. The room was spinning nicely, softening the blow of learning his adoptive mother had once thought to sacrifice him. At least she had changed her mind.
Slàine’s features softened. He knew she would not apologize, nor would she ask for forgiveness. It was not her way. They were both here, alive, and that was what mattered.
“You like that girl,” she observed with a suddenly smug grin, nodding in the direction of Ealasaid. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you so taken with someone.”
He smirked. “The girl calls lightning from thin air and runs into battle without fear. The girl, is terrifying.”
Slàine laughed, then lifted her hand to successfully catch the barmaid’s attention. She pointed to Maarav’s cup, then held up two fingers. Turning her gaze back to him, she taunted, “I didn’t think you were the type of man to turn his back on danger and . . . terror.”
The barmaid hurried over to them with her tray of fresh drinks in hand. He took two mugs of brandy from her as he stood, placing a few coins on her tray. He turned back to Slàine with a wink. “I’m not.”
He sauntered across the room, then gestured for Tavish to move so he could resume his seat next to Ealasaid. He handed her the fresh brandy, then leaned in close to her ear. “You better drink up,” he whispered. “Tomorrow you begin your leadership of An Solas, with me as your humble advisor.”
She took a swig of the brandy, though she was clearly already a bit drunk. She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Why Maarav, I thought you’d never ask.”
THOUGH THE WHISKEY before her soothed Bedelia’s sore body, it did nothing to alleviate the weight on her mind. She watched Finn carefully, laughing with Kai and Sativola. She wished she could be part of the jovial scene, but she still needed to speak with Finn. She’d told Iseult all of her secrets, believing there was no way they’d survive Oighear’s dungeon.
No. That wasn’t right. She would have told him regardless. She had planned to do so in Badenmar, but lacked the courage. It was only with death staring her in the face that she’d been desperate enough to speak out.
Her gaze met Iseult’s across the room. He sat near Finn and the others, but remained somehow separate. He gave her a small nod and she took a quavering breath. He believed Finn would forgive her. After all, she’d forgiven him.
She stood, brushing imaginary dust off her freshly cleaned breeches, then forced her feet to carry her across the room. Finn noticed her before the others and smiled.
“May we speak in private?” Bedelia asked sheepishly upon reaching her.
Kai looked at her questioningly, but did not object as Finn nodded and stood. “Of course.”
The two women made their way across the common room toward the stone fireplace, blazing with a comforting fire, and an empty bench placed before it. Together they sat, and Finn waited patiently for her to speak.
“I have some things I need to tell you,” she sighed, “but I do not know where to begin.”
Finn smiled softly. “Does it have something to do with why you were in the woods the night we met, all alone as if waiting for me? And why you later conveniently waited on the Sand Road at the perfect time, even though I’d been out to sea for weeks?”
“D-did Iseult tell you?” she stammered. “I told him I would tell you myself!”
Finn raised her hands in a calming gesture. “He told me nothing!” she laughed. “Well,” she began more sedately, “nothing except to be careful what I said around you, just in case. He thought it odd how you so conveniently happened upon us.”
Her heart’s nervous patter slowed. So Finn had suspected her all along? She was such a fool to believe she could have so easily deceived everyone. She was a warrior, not a trickster.
She took a shaky breath, then met Finn’s earnest gaze. “I was sent by Keiren Deasmhumhain, daughter of Àed Deasmhumhain, to gain your trust.”
Finn gasped. All humor suddenly drained from her face. “Àed? Do you know where he is?”
She nodded. “I will get to that soon. Keiren sent me to meet you in the woods that first night. I did not know her plans, nor do I now. All I knew was my quest, to gain your trust, and eventually lead you to Keiren. There was something or someone protecting you from her sight. I was there the night the Archtree burned. Well,” she hesitated, feeling overwhelmingly guilty, “I burned it, upon Keiren’s orders.”
Finn was shaking her head over and over again. “I do not understand. Why would you burn the Archtree?”
“Keiren had hoped to stop you from finding answers,” she explained. “Now that I’ve heard Slàine’s prophecy, I believe it has something to do with that. She wanted to manipulate you in some way. After you left the Island, she sent me to wait for you on the Sand Road.”
“Were you truly never my friend?” Finn interrupted, heartbreak clear in her voice.
“I always was!” she quickly corrected. “Or at least, for the most part. After you save
d me from the wolves, and didn’t care if I told you why I wore armor or traveled through the woods alone, and especially after I learned you were the one who left the potion for me, my thoughts changed. I began to hope there was some way I could save you from Keiren, and she knew it. She knew my heart had changed, and I would never lead you to harm.”
Finn took a deep, shaky breath, and was quiet for several seconds.
Bedelia was so overwhelmed with waiting for a reply, she had to resist the urge to reach out and shake her friend.
“And what of Àed?” Finn asked finally, not meeting her waiting gaze.
Bedelia closed her eyes for a moment. This was the hard part. The part Finn would never forgive. “Keiren turned him into a tree,” she breathed. “He now stands where the Archtree once took root.”
Finn blinked at her in shock. “So he’s not dead?” she gasped.
“N-no, but-” she stammered, unable to interpret Finn’s attitude.
“Well this is wonderful!” Finn exclaimed. “When he did not come to find me, I knew something terrible had happened. I couldn’t help but fear the worst, that he’d been in Migris when it was attacked. But if he has simply been turned into a tree, there is still hope of saving him. I was a tree for a hundred years, after all, and it did not do me any harm.” She frowned. “Well except for the loss of my memories, but those came back.”
“But,” Bedelia began again, totally taken aback.
Finn took both her hands in hers and eyed her intently. “Àed told me about his daughter, Keiren. That she was powerful, and cruel. Now I know it must be true if she would turn her own father into a tree. I will forgive you fully, if you promise to help me get him back.”
Bedelia thought her heart might burst. She would forgive her, after everything she’d done? “I will give my life if that’s what it takes. I swear it.”
Finn released one of her hands to pat the other one. “Now now, if that’s what it takes, we will find another way. Thank you for telling me.”
She couldn’t quite believe her ears. This had to be some sort of trick. “I don’t understand,” she blurted. “How can you forgive me so easily?”
Finn beamed at her. “I cannot claim to know much about the mortal realm, but one thing I’ve come to know quite intimately is friendship. My friends are not perfect, they have made mistakes, just as I have, but what makes a true friend is the ability to see beyond that. I see your heart, Bedelia, and that is all that matters.”
Bedelia blinked rapidly as her tears began to fall, and foreign sensations overcame her. Sensations she had blocked out long ago. She never would have guessed that what it would take to bring her back to life was not a lord, not a lover, but a friend.
She pulled Finn into a fierce hug, which Finn happily returned. She did not care if half of those in the common room had turned to look at them, and could clearly see the tears on the warrior woman’s face. All she cared about was that she finally had a friend.
Pulling away, Finn took her hand and stood, leading her back across the room. Kai and Iseult resumed their posts on either side of Finn while she told the rest of their party Àed’s fate. The general consensus was joy that he was still living in some way, and could possibly be saved.
Bedelia shook her head in disbelief as her friends continued to drink and make merry. She couldn’t help but feel that they were almost like a family. They might not all get along, and they might have their secrets, but they were there when it counted, and that was all that mattered.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
F inn awoke, filled with sudden memory. The final pieces slowly coming back to her, bit by bit. The curtained window had darkened the room, though it was still night. Anna snored loudly in the bed next to hers.
Anna. Finn sighed. In the morning, she would attempt to use the shroud to remove her magic, but it seemed she still had several hours before she needed to figure that out.
The shroud was now tied around the waist of her breeches. After a much needed bath, she’d felt it best to keep it near. She didn’t relish having the magical item so close to her skin, but she had listened closely to what Slàine had told them. She couldn’t risk this third queen coming along and stealing it away from her, not when they didn’t know what she’d do with it.
With a final glance at Anna, she donned her cloak and boots, then let herself out into the hall, just like she’d done the night she’d stayed with Àed at this very inn. The same night Iseult tied a man up by his boot strings for accosting her.
The hall was dark, but lantern light could be seen from the common room below. She smirked. Would she have to jump out a window again? At least she was wearing boots this time so she wouldn’t freeze her toes off.
She crept down the stairs, then halted at a sound. Someone setting a drink down on a table? Morning was just a few hours off. Who would be sitting in the common room at this time? Curiosity getting the better of her, she finished her journey down the stairs and peeked around the end of the bannister. A familiar shape sat alone at a table, his back toward the sole lantern.
“You should be resting,” Iseult muttered, somehow sensing her presence.
She left the stairs and closed the distance between them. “As should you,” she replied, reaching his side. She frowned at his visible bruises, sure that uglier ones hid beneath his clothing. Not that he would ever complain about either.
He did not look up, and her heart gave a nervous flutter. Refusing to back down, she lowered herself to the bench beside him. Finally, he met her gaze.
“I will keep my promise,” she stated bluntly, having some idea what might be bothering him. “I will do my best to use the shroud to return your soul. Maarav’s too.”
He shook his head and smiled ruefully. “No, you will not.”
“I will!” she gasped, holding a hand to her chest. “Would you doubt me after all this time?”
He shook his head. “It is not you that I doubt. I have failed you.”
She frowned. “I don’t understand.”
He sighed and took another sip of his drink.
The smell of whiskey fluttered to Finn’s nostrils.
“I had hoped to escape Oighear,” he explained. “I knew she intended you harm, intent on possessing the shroud.” He began to lower his gaze, then forced it upward. “I watched helplessly while she approached you. If it weren’t for Kai . . . ” he trailed off.
She smiled softly, now understanding his upset. “You know, I’m not entirely without defenses,” she teased.
The barest hint of a smile crossed his lips. “Of that I have no doubt, but I swore I’d protect you.”
She placed a hand gently on his arm, wishing she could somehow put every thought she was having into his mind. “You have protected me. I would never have gotten this far without you. I owe you everything, and I will be following through with my promise.”
He took hold of her hand on his arm and gave it a squeeze. “Perhaps in time, but not yet.”
She frowned, once again confused. “Why ever not?”
“I do not know what will happen,” he explained. “I’ve always been unnaturally fast and resilient. I can blend into shadows, and often hide in plain sight. I always thought it was simply luck, but Maarav displays these same skills. I believe it’s a product of our . . . condition.”
“You don’t want to lose those skills?” she questioned, even more confused. Iseult didn’t seem the type to worry about such things.
He sighed again. “I previously would not have cared one way or another. I only cared about ridding myself of my curse. But now, you have a long road ahead of you. I cannot stand idly by, and I cannot allow myself to be weakened. Not now.”
“But if I die,” she began, “if the shroud is lost-”
He turned toward her abruptly, enfolding her hands in his. “If I stand any chance of preventing either, I must remain as I am. If you are killed, I will surely have gone down before you.”
Her eyes welled with tears. She wasn’t sur
e what she had done to earn such loyalty, but there it was. She searched every corner of her mind for some sort of argument. It wasn’t fair for him to remain cursed, especially when she was the one who had cursed him. She opened her mouth to speak, but he shook his head.
“I will hear no more arguments,” he said softly.
She closed her mouth.
“Tomorrow we will formulate a new plan,” he continued. “We do not know what the Cavari will do now that you have the shroud, and there is still this third queen to worry about, and An Fiach. It seems there is no end to those who seek you.”
She sniffled, still fighting tears. “My apologies,” she chuckled. “You will likely soon be as notorious as I.”
He gave her hands a final squeeze, then released her from his grip. “One can only hope,” he teased, then stood, offering her his hand.
She looked up at him with a small smile.
“Am I mistaken, or were you going out for a walk? Perhaps to stick your toes in the cold soil?”
She grinned and took his hand, then stood and began to lead him across the common room. “This way,” she instructed, “I know an excellent window we can depart through.”
They both laughed as they wove their way through the smattering of tables, benches, and chairs, on their way to a moonlit walk. Although this time, they used the front door.
THOUGH FINN HAD INSISTED numerous times that Iseult get some rest, the next morning found the pair near the inn’s front door, watching the sun rise, just like it did every day, though today was somehow different.
Though Finn worried about his health, her heart was full. All of her friends were back together, and now she knew where Àed was. Though she had many concerns, returning him to human form was her primary quest.
The inn doors creaked open. She turned to see Anna and Kai. Remembering her task, she fingered the shroud around her waist, barely visible beneath the edge of her loose blouse.
Anna’s eyes followed her movement, then raised up to her face. “I’ve decided against removing my magic,” she announced.
The Blood Forest (The Tree of Ages Series Book 3) Page 23