Queen of the Wildwood

by Angela J. Ford

  I pushed heavy blankets away, noting the cool air, and pulled the cloak more securely around me. When my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw Aelbrin. He sat at the edge of the cave at an angle that allowed him to watch both me and the outside. His eyes glowed faintly in the dark, like those of a wild cat. He held something long in his hands, and when he put it to his mouth, that low tune came out again, a mournful melody. A prayer. A wish.

  An ache began in my heart as I watched him play his flute. Memories took me back to my father, a happy time when he would come in from the fields and sit in front of the fire, playing a tune for my sister and I. We giggled and danced while Mother, finding her helpers gone, first scolded and then joined us, feet tapping, skirts flying.

  Moisture gathered in the corners of my eyes, and I swallowed hard.

  “Can’t sleep?” Aelbrin’s hollow tone scattered my pensive thoughts. He sat staring out at the forest where the wind wailed and monsters roamed, hunting in the thickets. Every now and again I heard a hair-raising howl or a low moan.

  I left the pallet and limp toward him. He ran his fingers through his hair but never turned his face toward mine.

  “That was beautiful,” I said. “Where did you learn how to play like that?”

  “My people are known for their songs.” His hazel eyes met mine. “But I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  My voice went wistful, and I felt my wall of solitude crumble. “It reminds me of my family.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I saw you this morning at the graveyard.”

  I stiffened, recalling the flash of crimson and the noisy raven.

  “Were you close to the deceased?” he went on.

  “It was my sister,” I offered. There was something cathartic about speaking about what happened, and I let my jumbled thoughts out. “Occasionally a band of mercenaries would come to the village, seeking those with magic for their personal gain. They had heard about me and trapped my sister and me at the river during wash day.” My chest went tight as I recalled that fateful day, the smell of bog water, the soft mud, and my sister’s laughs as she scrubbed clothes. She was to be betrothed after Mabon, and the thought of a husband and babies filled her spirit with gaiety. “The mercenaries grabbed my sister. They planned to sell her for profit and take me as their mage. I used my magic to create a windstorm as a distraction. When they realized the strength of my power, they cut her throat before I could stop them. If I had gone peacefully, she would still be alive, and I could have escaped. Later. The villagers decided I had to join the Sisters of the Light, and my father was too devastated to stop them. . .” I trailed off as tears stung my eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” he said again.

  A silence hung, sweetened by the whispered hush of the nearby creek. Sharing my story felt good; it brought a sort of closure and lessened the burden of grief and guilt I carried.

  Aelbrin touched my hand, and warmth went up my spine. “Mistress Yula,” he mused. “Do you know what your name means?”

  A bitter laugh escaped my throat. “I don't believe my parents named me Yula because of the meaning. I suppose they liked the way it sounded.”

  “Ah.” Aelbrin said. “It means ‘sacrifice.’ That's what you do, isn't it? Sacrifice your happiness for others?”

  I stiffened, torn by the words that raked my soul. “What I want is not important,” I said bitterly, for sacrifice was the price of magic.

  “It is important,” Aelbrin insisted. He touched my bare arm, his fingers tracing a line from elbow to wrist. “If you always sacrifice your happiness, you will only be left a hull, a shell of your inner self and your potential.”

  I scowled, in part at his words but also because his touch awoke a hunger deep within. Shifting on the cool ground, I changed the conversation. “What makes you say such things? Will you tell me how you came to serve the Dark Queen?”

  At the mention of Her, his hand dropped away, and I felt a loss at the connection between us. The silence stretched. A cricket chirped in the darkness, and slowly other creatures took up the nocturnal melody.

  Aelbrin sighed. “The tales I shared with you moons ago are true. I grew up in a grove with my tribe, far north of here. My mother died during the birth of my sister. I knew her briefly, and I supposed I should have missed her. But my tribe was a tight-knit community and more than made up for her loss. My father was a warrior, one of the highest honors of my tribe. I trained to become like him. A protector. We had something others did not: a source of wisdom and magic called Mother Tree. Her deep roots and thick branches covered the entire glade. She protected my people and gave us magic. Until the fire came. One fateful day a firedrake flew down from the mountains and attacked my village. It almost destroyed the Mother Tree, killed my father, left my sister badly burned, and my people in terror and chaos. Many claimed that more firedrakes would come and our line would end. I decided to take the risk upon my shoulders, for I thought I had nothing left to lose. I’d heard of the Queen of the Wildwood—many stories tell of her deeds—and became determined to strike a deal with her. She took the remains of the Mother Tree and promised me, as long as I serve her, my people are protected.”

  Regret, mixed with pain and sorrow, filled the air. I wanted to offer him a token of peace, but words seemed inadequate. To protect his tribe, he served the Dark Queen, for it was the only choice he had.

  I sensed the undercurrent of revulsion each time her name was mentioned, and how he glared at the mark seared into his skin. It was not a fate he would wish on anyone.

  “Tell me about your people,” I encouraged gently, steering the conversation in a safer direction.

  His voice was distant when he spoke, and I could tell he thought of past times. Happy times. “My people are ash trees. The spirit of the forest incarnate in the flesh. When we die, we return to our trees and rest until we are awakened and asked to live anew. Our purpose is to bring balance to nature and humankind. But the people respect us no longer. They cut us down and burn our wood. They create pastures for grazing their animals. They build homes on the land they took from us, and no one remembers the sacred forests. In part, that is why I thought to give my service over to the Dark Queen, for she understands the sacredness of the enchanted wood. But it is not as I thought it would be. She only thinks of what will benefit herself and her kingdom. I regret that I did not seek to understand before I let her take my soul.”

  His pain made me ache.

  “Is there no way you can escape?” I begged, forcing myself to breathe. My mind told me I should stand up and walk away now. I could not be drawn to him because of his sad story. I had to make my own decisions, stand firm, and find my own way, as I always did.

  He shook his head. “Once you give the Dark Queen your soul, damnation is the only escape.”

  I closed my mouth, and a tense silence filled the air. Instead of returning to the pallet, I did the one thing I knew better than to do. I reached out to him. My smooth fingers brushed his rough hands and gave a comforting squeeze. My breath went shallow as he turned his face toward mine, a hunger in his hazel eyes.

  “Yula,” he said. “If you go to the Dark Queen, I will never see you again. Will you not reconsider?”

  “I cannot,” I choked out.

  He stroked my cheek, the contact making my pulse quicken.

  Foolishly, I leaned into his touch, starved for connection. Starved for him. He was the dream I’d thought I’d never have. The dream that would probably never come so close to my grasp again.

  There was a strange note in his voice when he spoke again. “I have wanted you for a very long time, my rose girl, and now you’re here, determined to sacrifice yourself away. I cannot say I don’t understand, but I also cannot say I don’t wish you’d change your mind. With you here, I find myself suddenly selfish. I would damn worlds to keep you at my side.”

  I stared at him, unable to do anything more than nod.

  His breath tickled my face, and his mouth hovered just above mine. “May
I kiss you?”

  I pressed against his solid body, suddenly alive with need and craving his touch.

  When he ran his thumb over my bottom lip, a breathless sigh escaped my throat. His other hand parted the cloak and rode up my bare back. His lips met mine—warm, rough, and intoxicating. Better than the sweetest wines served during Mabon.

  Instinctively, I responded to his kiss and caress, my passion mounting. From deep inside his chest, a groan rumbled and rose, escaping his throat like a low growl. His hand slid lower, moving over and then clenching my warm bottom.

  The cloak fell open as his fingers undid the clasp, displaying my flesh. The sudden coolness made my nipples flare and his fingers trailed down my throat to stroke and cup those tender buds.

  Wild with need, I spread my legs, pressing harder into him. A moan rolled out of my throat, and my hips moved as my fingers fumbled against his breeches, searching for flesh. His hardness, firm and pulsing in my hand sent a delicate shiver through my body.

  “Aelbrin,” I whispered, unable to explain what I wanted.

  Shifting his weight, he allowed me to straddle him. When his warm mouth closed over my nipple I panted, inviting his touch. Rolling my erect buds between his teeth, he sucked and pulled, biting gently and then not so gently at all. Setting my loins on fire. I threw back my head, clutching at him desperately as he twisted a hand through the waves of my hair, pulling me closer to him.

  When he lifted his head, both of us breathing as though we’d raced through the forest, his eyes glazed over with an intense longing.

  He met my gaze and studied me, naked in the moonlight. “Yula,” he whispered, his voice husky. “Are you sure?”

  My thoughts flickered back to our first meeting, and I recalled the connection I had felt even then. This only seemed right, an inevitable conquest before the brutality of life ripped us apart.

  I nodded, chewing my lower lip, almost ashamed of my nakedness. But the look in his eyes reassured me. His arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me tight against his chest, holding on as though for dear life. The longing in that embrace seeped through me and heat flared between my thighs.

  “I need you,” I whispered, my lips close to his ear.

  In one smooth motion, he carried me to the pallet where he lay me down, kissing my forehead, cheeks, and lips again and again. Shaking off the last of his clothes, he opened me to him, his fingers sending a ripple down my spine as though my skin were on fire.

  He pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to my neck, shoulders, and breasts as he worked his way down, making me hiss, desperate. I’d never felt such intense desire, such need before.

  When he touched the delta between my legs, I dug my fingernails into his shoulders as though to anchor myself in the moment.

  His fingers stroking, teasing. And then I felt his hardness. He hesitated, and I squirmed, arching my back, frantic. Gently, he slipped inside me, filling me to my core. I opened my legs further, and a delicious shiver went up my spine. He thrust, slowly at first and then harder, faster, his breath coming ragged as he made love to me.

  I held on to him as my pleasure mounted. We were together, one soul, as he drove into me again and again. I felt as though I were careening, falling headlong.

  And I never wanted it to end.

  Chapter 5

  Silver mist greeted us in the morning. Vague shapes appeared in the fog—fingers, the face of a lady, the form of a hulking orc, an overgrown wolf. The atmosphere was thick with animosity, and a darkness hovered over us. Something in the air reached out, seeking to take hold.

  Aelbrin led the way, saying nothing about our intimate night of pleasure. He’d taken me again and again, as though that alone could stop time and our inevitable separation. Even now I sensed a deep sadness emitting from him.

  My hair stuck to my back and my feet hummed with discomfort at each step, for the boots he’d given me were too large. The shirt I’d borrowed billowed out, adding to my discomfort. The pants slipped off my lean hips, forcing me to continually hoist them up. My limbs trembled as I stumbled uphill, slipping on moss, broken branches, and pine needles.

  Aelbrin turned back often to assist me. When his hand touched mine, my skin went hot, and I willed myself to follow through with my decision. Once he led me to the Dark Queen, I hoped he’d flee, even though he believed he led me to my doom.

  I pushed those dreadful thoughts away and flexed my fingers, forcing clarity into my mind. Practicing magic was dangerous when I was confused or distracted. I needed to concentrate. An unclear mind led to emotions overriding my control. I couldn’t let my rage balloon into devastation again.

  When we reached the hilltop, a gust of wind rushed across the knoll. It lifted my hair, blew out my clothes, and examined me from every angle. I heard a cruel laugh before the wind fizzled out. Violation made me cross my arms over my chest for protection.

  “What was that?” I demanded.

  Aelbrin glanced back at me, and the look he gave me almost swayed my resolve. The wind had blown his wild hair straight back, giving him a rather severe look. His haunted eyes had gone dark. “That was the gatekeeper, checking to ensure you carry no weapons. She will report her findings to the queen.”

  A bead of sweat trickled down my forehead.

  “Yula. My dear rose girl. This is your last chance,” Aelbrin urged. “I’ve brought you this far, but if you wish to flee and seek another way to save your people, I will help you.”

  A memory of his warm, insistent kisses plagued my thoughts. We were good together, and he was wise, but try as I might, I could see no other way. Besides, if we failed, people would die, and I was tired of people dying because of me and my magic.

  Only one path was clear, and I had no choice but to take it.

  My stomach twisted but I lifted my chin. “I can do this.”

  Aelbrin held my gaze as he came to stand before me. His fingers grazed my wrist and sent a tingling sensation down my spine. He scanned my face as though searching for something.

  My heart kicked against my chest. Was he going to kiss me again?

  The moment snapped as he let go of me. “I warn you, beware of the raven who will bind your magic.” He pointed to a thick grove of trees just ahead. “Ascend into the domain of the Dark Queen. She is expecting you.”

  My gaze followed his. The trees opened up, displaying a wide set of stairs which led to an obsidian castle. The fortification sprawled across the hill, the horrifying might of it both an intimidation and a curse. Wicked towers glared back at me as though warning me away.

  I gawked, a horror of entrapment growing in my mind. I wanted to flee, turn and beg Aelbrin to take me back to the village. But then what? I’d be right back where I started. A night in the enchanted forest all for naught.

  I squared my shoulders and forced fear to the back of my mind, and as I stood there, the teachings of the Sisters of the Light came to me:

  Fear is your ally, not your enemy. When you feel fear, it is only a sensation, a reminder that you must think before proceeding. Fear is an indicator of what could go wrong if you do not have a plan, but remember, fear is not always correct, it is only a thought, a path, like the roots of a tree branching to different dimensions. You are in control of the path you follow, so let fear guide you to the right choice. In the face of fear remember to use your mind, not your emotions.

  Magic made me strong. I would use my mind in this, not my gut reaction to flee. Turning, I extended my hand to say goodbye to Aelbrin, but the spot where he’d stood was empty. I spun around, searching for him. But he'd silently vanished, as though he were nothing but a figment of my imagination.

  Irritation rose and, blinking back tears, I left the forest behind and walked toward the black castle.

  Chapter 6

  The stairs leading to the monolithic fortress zigzagged back and forth across a cliff with sharp drop-offs at each side. It was a defensive position with one way in and one way out. The castle itself rose like a frowning monster
casting a nightmarish shadow over the forest. Columns of gray smoke rose from the surrounding bluffs. At first, I thought they were clouds, but as I passed through the mists, low moans wailed from them.

  I shivered in the clammy air. All of my instincts told me to turn and run away.

  Once more I glanced back, missing the comfort of Aelbrin. I cursed myself for longing for something that was impossible to have. I’d allowed myself to forget, last night, that he still belonged to Her.

  A wailing scream came from the castle, and my hands went to my ears to hold back the blood-twisting sound. My heart thudded in my throat, but I forced my feet to take one brave step after another. I climbed into the mountain of mist and the wicked castle steadily grew closer.

  Black feathers glistening with a shiny gloss flittered through the air. A sharp caw made me jump, and then a man materialized in front of me. On his head he wore the skull of an overgrown raven, with the beak intact. Across his body flowed black feathers, covering him from head to toe. Ghastly eyes stared at me.

  I paused and closed my fingers into fists, preparing my magic to toss him over the cliff if necessary. He cocked his head, and his beady eyes examined me from head to toe.

  Offended, I crooked a finger. A rock from the path dropped onto his booted toe. The man glanced from his foot to my hand. His eyes gleamed with mischief. He shook back the feathers, and they transformed into a cloak, offering a glimpse of a lean, hard body underneath the curtain of black.

  “Aelbrin sends a gift to the queen?" the man quipped, grinning rather suddenly.

  I glanced over my shoulder, still sore at the way Aelbrin had vanished without a word. Or instructions. “I am no gift; I have come to make a bargain with the Dark Queen.”

  The man’s coal-black eyes drifted to my chest. “You can make a deal with me first. It shall be more entertaining.”

  Rage boiled in my belly at his indecency. With a flex of my fingers, the rocks and rubble scattered at our feet rose into the air, each stone a deadly weapon in the hands of a mage. “There's more magic where that came from,” I warned him.