by Bec McMaster
"These woods once stretched across the entire north," she said, continuing past the waterfall.
"Do you think we should keep going? There's a volgur out there somewhere."
"I know," she picked up her skirts, and continued on. "Who do you think sent it?"
She sent it? "At least two men died because of that thing. Maybe more."
"You didn't heed the warning," she replied. "You didn't even share the warning, did you? Their lives are on your hands."
My blood ran cold. "You put that skull there for us."
"No. The draugur did that," she said. "To mark their territory. You encroach upon it at your own risk. They guard the Heart. And they only give one warning. Continue on at your own risk, Neva."
Draugur. I shivered. Monsters made from trees, and twisted with animal flesh.
"I unleashed the volgur to drive your men friends out. They should not be here."
"Why? What are you hiding here?"
"I will show you."
We picked our way through the forest, our steps blurring with each stride, as if we covered more than a yard.
"There was an empire to the north of us once," she murmured, moving through the trees at an unhurried pace.
"The Empire of Velide," I said. "Darkness crept out of the woods and tore it apart."
"Darkness?" she looked at me sharply, then gave a rough-edged chuckle. "Is that what they teach in your world of men?"
I shut my mouth, stung a little. "Nobody knows what truly happened. It was centuries ago."
Galina summoned a ball of pure light into her hands, like an oversized soap bubble. "I know."
Then she blew upon it, and the bubble enveloped us, sending me blinking into a new world.
We stood in a place drenched in sunlight, though it all seemed somewhat hazy. A mountain of stone loomed in front of us, and there were strange runes carved into the stone. When I turned around, I could see the river in the distance, sunlight winking off it, and the waterfall a mere trickle of its current rage. It was miles away.
Heavy stone lintels leaned against each other, carved with a twisted language I'd never seen before. My heart skipped a beat. Ruins of the empire? I'd thought them further north. Before us stretched the canopies of thousands of young trees.
A chill ran down my spine. We were in the past. What sort of magic was this?
"Gravenwold is not just a forest, it's a prison," Galina explained. "Long ago, the ancient gods fought the Darkness and trapped it deep within the ground beneath Gravenwold. They planted a thousand trees, the roots of which twined around the Darkness, and kept it secure. As long as the Heart of the Forest stands—the original thousand trees—the Darkness cannot escape.
"And to protect the trees, they created five guardians in Gravenwold; the unicorn, pure of spirit; the dragon with its almighty strength; the white hart, whispering dreams of destiny; the courageous griffin; and the firebird, symbol of sacrifice and rebirth."
As she spoke, shadows swirled out of the mist. A unicorn formed, gleaming so brightly beneath the sunlight I could barely see her. An enormous jumble of boulders began to take a sinuous shape, an unblinking amber eye opening and locking upon me. The hart darted through the trees. And a shadow rippled over us, turning my eye to the sky where an enormous set of wings flapped lazily past.
"Men hunted the unicorn for her horn."
The vision changed. Suddenly the unicorn was galloping through the forest, pursued by men with nets and spears. Blood smeared her flanks, and finally, finally they dragged her down, trapping her beneath nets made from the hair of virgins. One man raised his bloody spear, and I flinched away from the scene, screwing my eyes tight as it plunged....
"The griffin guarded the north of the woods, and when the empire began to cut down its trees so they could build their roads and forts, he was forced to fight back. They killed him too."
I saw a thousand tree stumps stretching across the horizon, and a creature collapsed among them, brought down by a mighty ballista. The light slowly faded from those eagle eyes, and then it was still.
"But in killing him, they weakened the balance. There were only three remaining guardians in Gravenwold, and the trees... They began to chop their way into the Heart. Darkness crept out of its prison, like a vaporous mist. Not the full force of the evil we guard against, but enough to bring ruin to the empire.
"The Darkness is Death, Neva. It is death that whispers through the night, a long-buried shadow trapped by the magic upon Gravenwold, and released only when its shackles are compromised. If not for the courage of the trinity—Ermady, Rior and Vashta—there would be no world left to walk upon. They were of the Old Blood—the people who lived in the forest's shadow and served the Guardians. When they went to fight the Darkness, they turned to the Old Ways to protect them. Vashta painted the symbol of purity upon her forehead in the unicorn's blood; Ermady ate the heart of the griffin, so he would have its sight and courage; and Rior... Rior was given the dragon's shadow, so he would have it watching over him as he fought. Only the hart, the firebird, and the dragon remained, to guard the Heart.
"Together they rode north to the ruins of the empire, seeking the Darkness. They wounded it with spears cut from the branches of the Heart of the Forest, until it fled from them in fear. Wounded by battle, they drove it back to the forest. Rior fell, and where he lay, the dragon's shadow blighted the ground so no grass grows there. Crippled by the blow, the dragon turned to stone and you can hear the rumble of his growl beneath the earth at times, even now.
"Weakened by the loss of her lover, Vashta was driven to her knees. Forced to face the Darkness alone, Ermady was tricked by its illusions, and fell to despair. Only Vashta, with the purity of the unicorn's blood upon her forehead, was able to see through the Darkness's illusions. But she was weak, and she was injured, and she had lost her heart. The firebird found her and let her drink of its blood, so she would not feel her wounds. Knowing she was dying, Vashta made one last stand, and fought the Darkness back into its prison. And then she fell, right here where we stand, and the firebird wept over her body, grieving the loss of its fellow guardians, and the loss of three brave souls. And where those tears fell, water pooled, covering Vashta's body."
I released the breath I'd been holding, feeling the weight of the story on my shoulders. "The Well of Tears," I whispered, seeing it form before me, as though illusions had guarded it from my eyes. "It's real."
I sank to my knees beside the stone lip of the well, reaching for the shimmering waters—
"If you touch those waters, your choice is made," Galina's voice sounded like a whip crack.
I jerked my hand back. "Doesn't that suit your purpose?"
Then I'd be bound to serve her as a successor, whatever that meant.
"No. I would have you choose freely—or not at all. There are others who can bear my burden. Those with Vashta's blood in their veins... like the blood that flows through yours."
I looked up sharply.
"Her courage flows in you, Neva, gifted through your father's bloodline, which can be traced all the way back to the child Vashta left behind. Why do you think I spared his life? Only those of Vashta's line can guard Gravenwold, and I need someone to replace me when I'm gone. Someone who loves the forest as much as I do."
Vashta's blood flowed in my veins? I looked at my palms, slightly paler than my skin. All my life she'd been a myth. A legend. A saint of the forest.
"Unless you wish to drink," Galina whispered, filled her cupped hands with water and lifting it to my lips. "Drink to rouse the Old Blood in your veins, Neva. Be a hero. Fulfill your legacy."
Cheers echoed in my ears, and suddenly I could see the bloodied forest floor where Vashta fell. Men and women gathered to salute her, tears streaming down their faces as they turned her from a mere human who'd done what she had to, to a saint, revered and worshipped.
Alarms sounded, the same aching echo within me that had resisted the call of the White Hart. I didn't want to be a
hero. No matter how much the thought of glory tempted me.
I shook my head. "I can't."
I didn't want to be a witch either.
Galina let the water run through her fingers. "Second test passed," she said softly. "This is a burden I ask of you. Not glory. When they kill the firebird, you must come here," she said. "Only the waters will save you. Promise me you will come here to pass your third test."
Kill? I started to my feet. "There's nothing to say we will find her."
"You will. She is old and weary, and sees her death coming for her."
"But she... she will be reborn, yes?" Every story I'd ever heard told of the firebird erupting into flames that would die down, only to reveal a chick within.
"She will be reborn," Galina said sadly, capturing my face in both hands. "You cannot stop them from killing her, but you must promise me one thing, Neva Bane."
I nodded shortly.
"Do not let them take the new firebird to the city. She must belong here, in Gravenwold. The White Hart has forgotten what it once was. The dragon is asleep. Only the firebird remains vigilant. She must protect the forest and the waters from those who would take them. Don't let them take the firebird. Don't let them take the waters. Immortality is not a gift men should own. Or a new Darkness will rise, a conqueror who will stop at nothing to destroy the world."
Bubbles rose within the Well of Tears as if something was surfacing beneath its calm waters. I couldn't tear my gaze away. "I won't let them take the firebird," I said softly. "I swear on Vashta's well I shall do all in my power to stop them."
"And when she rises, you will come here," she repeated. "To the waters and drink."
Lost in the mesmerizing swirl of water, something about that tugged at me as wrong. "I don't want to drink the waters. I just want to go home."
"Neva," someone called.
"The choice will be yours, of course," said her voice, far too close to my ear.
"Neva!"
I blinked awake, lying in the furs, my heart hammering like a trapped animal in my chest. Casimir leaned over me, his fingers curled around my shoulders. "It's all right, Neva," he murmured. "You're safe, you're safe. Nothing can harm you now."
Casimir knelt over me, his knees resting on either side of my hips. I sat up, grabbing the furs to my chest as I looked around. "Where is she?"
"Where is who?"
Just in time I caught my tongue. Just a dream. Or was it? I could feel the burning touch of her fingertips on my forearm, and didn't dare turn it over, just in case there were actual burns there.
Would you kill the firebird for your king?
Suddenly, the firebird was no longer a creature of myth and legend, but something real.
And now I knew why she'd been created. I had to stop Evaron's quest, before it was too late.
8
Are you certain you're all right?" Casimir asked, early the next morning.
We were packing to return to the others. The fire had died down, due to lack of wood to feed it, if nothing else. Its flames still licked hungrily, feeding on virtually nothing at all. I kicked snow over the ashes, and they hissed at me malevolently, and then flared up again.
"Neva?" Cas grabbed me by the arm.
"No, I'm not all right!" I snapped. "This quest is wrong. Everything is wrong. You're going to kill a creature of myth and for what? A king? A tyrant king?"
His face darkened. "Don't say that too loudly."
"Or what will happen? Is Hussar lurking behind that tree?" I demanded, forced to look up at him. "Ready to leap out and expose me for a traitor? Wouldn't you hear him coming?"
He captured my upper arms, still looking behind him. The corded muscle in his throat flexed. "Of course, I would. That doesn't mean voices don't carry." The tension in his fingers softened, and he looked down at me. "I've spent over ten years watching what I say. They burned a man once, just for calling the king greedy. I don't want that to happen to you."
"It's not going to happen." My hands came to rest on his chest, though I had a moment of doubt about what exactly my intentions were. I'd pushed him away once.
"Just be careful," he stressed.
"One would almost think you're worried about me," I joked.
His hands kept skimming over my arms, moving a little slower. Our eyes met. Heat from his breath skittered over my sensitive lips, and it was only then I realized his head had lowered, almost unconsciously. The breath punched out of me. My gaze slid to his mouth.
"Cas," I breathed, and it was the first time I'd called him that.
"I don't want to see you hurt," he said gruffly.
Last night sprang to mind.
"Are you asking?" Was that my voice? So rough and raw?
His lashes fluttered lower over his cheeks. "Are you saying no?"
Some sort of strangled noise came out of my mouth. "I'm not saying no."
Those eyes lit up like hot coals, as the predator flared within him. I expected him to pounce, but he moved as though he didn't want to scare me away. Like I was some bird fluttering in the bushes, and the second he moved I'd vanish in a flurry of wings.
His thumbs slid over my cheeks, as his hands cupped my face. "Last chance, Neva Bane," he growled. His head angled, and then his breath whispered over my open mouth. "Yes? Or no?"
Sweet Vashta. There was no way to answer that. Not with words. I grabbed a handful of his shirt and stretched up onto my tiptoes, as our mouths collided.
Dozens of butterflies swirled through my stomach. His mouth was on mine, his fingers threading through my hair, tangling in the tight curls. A kiss, and not that swift thing I'd stolen behind the inn once when I was curious. This was hot, and wet, and fierce as want suddenly surged through me. The wall of his chest crushed against mine as he dragged his hands down my back and tugged me closer.
The world vanished. It felt like the firebird's feather brushed against me, setting me alight and chasing its way through my veins like the steady flow of molten lava. I had a fist in his hair, my tongue darting over his. Exhilaration breathed new life into me, and I bloomed the same way I did when I ran through the forest, turning into something malleable and utterly helpless in his arms.
Cas broke the kiss first, breathing hard. Confusion danced through his eyes. A look I had no way of interpreting, for I could still feel his breath on my mouth, and my hands were stroking over the hard leather covering his chest—
"Ho! I see smoke!" someone called, and both of us broke apart in surprise.
"The prince," I blurted.
Cas looked around wildly, and I couldn't help thinking he hadn't heard the men coming either. No, that look of confusion—and something else I couldn't define—had been all for me. I shoved away from him, taking two stumbling steps across the clearing as I glared at the fire that had given us away.
I touched my heated lips. What had I been thinking?
Clearly I wasn't the only one thinking it. Cas's hand brushed against my hip and he leaned in close. "Sorry. That should never have happened."
Then he was moving past me, the muscle in his legs bunching as he hurried up the small incline to greet the men.
"Don't worry, it won't happen again," I muttered, and knew he heard me.
"I didn't mean it like that," Cas murmured, stealing a moment when we stopped to water the horses.
My stomach jumped, doing a nervous little dance. A quick glance showed nobody was watching. "What do you mean?"
"I'm wolvren, Neva. I'm a virtual slave. Just because I want something, doesn't mean I can have it." He leaned against his horse, his amber eyes lighting on mine as he stroked her flank.
"Momentary loss of concentration," I muttered, looking anywhere for help. This wasn't happening. "On both of our behalf."
"Not for me. I was hoping to kiss you from the start," he said, and led his horse up the hill, leaving me with those words.
Words I didn't know what to do with.
I'd once known what I was doing with my life—I was going
to follow in my father's footsteps. Hunting was all I knew, and the only place I felt at ease was in the forest. There'd been a kiss once. A mercenary's nephew who'd been close to my age, and full of empty flirtation, while his uncle dealt with my father. It had been quick and confusing, a single moment behind the inn when father wasn't looking, and I hadn't precisely thought of it ever since.
Ellie was the one who was going to get married. Averill was far too cynical, and I'd never dreamed those dreams before. Every sense I owned had been focused on seeing my father through his illness, and keeping us fed. I didn't have time for dreams.
I still didn't have time for dreams.
And if I did, did they involve a hulking brute of a wolvren, whose scowls were surly, but who looked at me as if his eyes could swallow me whole?
My breath caught in my chest, and I swiftly capped my own water skin. Thoughts like that could get me killed. We were in Gravenwold, and I needed all my wits about me.
"All right," Hussar called, drawing the attention of everyone gathered. "We're in the heart of the forest now. That firebird's got to be here somewhere. You. Girl. How do we track it?"
Over a dozen sets of eyes turned to lock on me.
"How would I know?" I replied. "My job was to get you here."
"You're the mighty huntress." He spat on the ground. "You're the one who keeps babbling about monsters, and woogity-boos, and so on."
The men laughed, and my cheeks heated. I knew what he was about. Anything to kick me down a few rungs on the ladder. I could seriously develop a personal vendetta against Hussar.
I hope one of my monsters eats you, I said with my eyes.
Hussar crossed his arms over his chest smugly.
"I'm sure a firebird is outside the realm of experience of anyone gathered here," Prince Evaron said diplomatically. "Its not precisely commonplace, hence my father's obsession with it. So I guess we'll have to do this the old-fashioned way. Why don't we split up?"
