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

  The treaty reached Oighear. Instead of touching it herself, one of the Aos Sí pressed the parchment firmly against the table in front of her. She dipped a quill in ink to sign the treaty, but hesitated. “We will remain within the new borders, as promised,” she began, “but I want assurances that our magic will remain unhindered. Though the earthen powers may be dwindling, there is still enough to share.”

  There were murmurs around the table, then a figure opposite Oighear nodded.

  Oighear took a deep breath. “For the safety of my people in this war, I will do as you ask, but let me be clear. We will not remain trapped forever.” She leveled her glare at each of the figures seated around the table in turn, then with a heavy sigh, signed the parchment.

  The cloaked figures stood. One branched away from the group and approached Finn. She caught a glimpse of her mother’s face in the shadowy depths of the hood, smiling at her. “Come Finnur,” she whispered, taking Finn’s small hand. “It’s time to go.”

  FINN SIGHED, returning to the present, and the dreary confines of her cell. She felt an odd pang of heartache at the memory of her mother’s touch. She ran her fingers up and down the cold bar again. She supposed she couldn’t blame Oighear for imprisoning her. The Dair had betrayed her people. The treaty had been meant to bind the Faie to the land beyond the Blood Forest, but Oighear did not understand the full terms. The seasons were changing, and magic was leaving the land. She’d unintentionally cut her people off from too much, and they had faded away. Once she’d been weakened, her shroud had been stolen. The funeral shroud not of Oighear, but of her mother, the true Faie Queen.

  Finn curled up in the corner of her cell, experiencing just what Oighear had felt when she was cut off from her power. Every inch of the compound seemed to be warded against her magic. She hadn’t known just how much she felt her connection to the earth at all times, until it wasn’t there.

  Hushed voices nearing her cell drew her attention. She sat up, but remained in the shadows near the wall. A lantern came into view first, then Eywen’s face. Had he come to torment her? To punish her for what her people had done to the Aos Sí?

  Finn nearly jumped out of her skin as Iseult’s face appeared behind Eywen. Several other forms lurked behind them in the dimly lit room.

  Eywen lifted a heavy keyring, then unlocked the barred door of her cell. She looked up at him, confused, and he held a finger to his lips, then gestured for her to stand.

  She did as she was bade, then hurried to Iseult’s side. Now that she was close enough, she could see Kai, Anna, Sativola, and Bedelia. She opened her mouth to ask Iseult what was happening, but like Eywen, he held a finger to his lips.

  Eywen turned and led them back out of the room, shielding his lantern with his free arm. They moved single file down a narrow corridor. If it weren’t for her death-grip on the back of Iseult’s arm, she likely would have stumbled in the near-darkness several times.

  They reached the end of the corridor and Finn tensed in alarm, then relaxed. Eywen’s lantern allowed just enough light to illuminate several armored guards waiting for them, but they had all slumped to the floor. At first Finn thought they were dead, then one twitched, scaring her out of her wits. They were merely in a deep, unnatural slumber.

  Finn continued down the corridor with Iseult in front of her, and Kai behind. Kai’s hand remained on her shoulder, using her as his guide, much like she used Iseult. She caught dull flashes of silver armor as they passed a multitude of sleeping guards, until finally they reached an iron-barred exit. Ewyen produced an ornate key and employed it near-silently on the lock, then they emerged into the freezing night air. The moonlight was a relief, allowing Finn a broader field of vision than she’d had in the corridor. It seemed a fresh layer of snow had fallen while they were imprisoned, blanketing the night in eerie stillness.

  They walked through the snow in silence. Only the sound of their boots crunching on the ice, and the occasional hoots of owls assured Finn she could still hear. She noted the lack of guards as they walked, and knew it must have been planned, along with the sleeping guards in the corridor. Did Eywen have allies, or had he managed to drug them all? She supposed it didn’t matter, as long as they were awarded their freedom.

  Eywen reached the stables first. He nodded in greeting to two conscious Aos Sí. Finn tensed again, but they did not attack, nor did they cart them back to their cells. Instead, they handed them the reins of fresh horses, with supplies strapped to their backs.

  “Why are you letting us go?” Finn finally whispered, stepping close to Eywen. “I do not understand.”

  His breath fogged the air near her face as he met her questioning gaze, then pressed the reins of a white horse into her hands. “Oighear believes she can force the Dair into submission, but her pride blinds her. Many of us know better than to incur the wrath of the Cavari. I hope that when the time comes, you will show mercy to the Aos Sí, though I will not be alive to see it.”

  Behind him, one of the Aos Sí handed Iseult a sword, then turned to help Anna onto her nervous horse’s back.

  Finn began to ask why Eywen would not be alive, then realized her foolishness. Oighear would surely kill him when she realized he’d drugged her guards and released her prisoners.

  “You should come with us,” she whispered without thinking.

  Eywen and the other two Aos Sí shook their heads. “We have accepted our fates,” Eywen explained. “All that I ask is that our deaths not be in vain. Please, show mercy for our people.”

  Finn nodded, fighting back tears. She clutched the horse’s reins tightly in her shaking hands. “I swear to you, I will do all that I can.”

  A sudden breeze lifted Finn’s hair from her face, stinging her cheeks with ice.

  Eywen gave her hands a squeeze around the reins, then moved to help her mount. She looked hesitantly up at the graceful white horse, its mane reminding her of Oighear’s hair. It wasn’t the horse she and Iseult had ridden previously, but she supposed any horse was better than none.

  “You must go,” Eywen urged.

  Without warning, he put his hands on Finn’s waist and nearly threw her into the saddle. She managed to swing her leg up at the last moment, then gripped the pommel for dear life as Eywen thwapped the horse on its rump. It shot through the snow like an arrow, carrying Finn away from the stables.

  Moments later, her friends caught up, their horses galloping on either side of her. The icy wind picked up, and she abruptly realized their hurry. Oighear had awakened.

  A rage-filled shriek cut through the night, and suddenly she was blinded by snow, pelleting her face to the point where she could hardly breathe. She ducked low against her saddle, pressing her face near the base of her horse’s neck. She had no idea if she was going in the right direction. She simply had to trust that her horse’s lithe legs would carry her away from danger.

  Something sliced into her arm, nearly toppling her from her mount as she cried out in agony. Hot blood welled to pour down her limb.

  Tears covered her face, still pressed near her horse’s mane. She couldn’t lift her gaze enough to see her surroundings, but she heard no hoofbeats around her. She was alone, in a world gone entirely white.

  ISEULT ROLLED THROUGH THE SNOW, righting himself just in time to deflect the blade of his attacker with his borrowed sword. He was fortunate that only one of the Aos Sí had managed to cut him off. The ancient warriors were highly skilled, and just as fast as he, if not faster.

  He dodged another swipe of his attacker’s blade, darting his eyes about for his new horse. If he’d had his own horse, it would have stuck by no matter the commotion, but this new creature clearly wasn’t properly trained.

  He lifted his sword against another attack, the force of which sent a painful jolt up his arm. Their blades slid across each other with a metallic shwing, then both opponents stepped back and squared off. Iseult steeled himself for another attack, but it somehow came from behind. Sharp pain radiated up from his lower back, br
inging him to his knees. He slumped to his side in the snow and looked up at his attacker, another of the Aos Sí. The warrior had been utterly silent in his approach, catching him off guard like no man ever had.

  Iseult’s hot blood melted the snow beneath him, and his vision began to fade to gray. He had failed. He would never free the souls of his ancestors. He would never make amends to Finn. He had failed them all. As his life slowly left him, he thought he saw Finn’s face, but the specter slowly faded, a last punishment to show him what he’d lost.

  SEATED on a rock with her horse’s reins looped around her arm, Anna buried her head in her hands. They’d made it out of the snow with three fresh mounts, and three less companions.

  “We should wait for them,” Kai growled, but Anna just shook her head. She knew there was little they could do. The sun had finally risen above them, bathing the party in bleak light through the canopy of tree branches. Though she welcomed the sun after their escape through the freezing blizzard, she was worried the rest of their companions were still trapped in Oighear’s icy embrace.

  “And allow the Aos Sí to find us first?” she argued tiredly, lifting her head from her hands. “Or perhaps An Fiach?”

  Kai glared down at her. “You’re the one who needs Finn. You need her to take away your magic with the shroud.”

  “It won’t matter if we’re dead,” she hissed. “We should make our way to Garenoch and await them there.” Kai was right, but she feared Oighear more than she did her own curse. She wouldn’t venture back into the snowy forest for all the coin in the land.

  Sativola watched the scene nervously, seemingly as anxious to put distance between themselves and Oighear as Anna.

  “What if they’re in trouble?” Kai countered. “What if the Aos Sí recaptured them, and they’re back in their cells? Eywen is likely dead now. There will be no second rescue.”

  Anna wasn’t sure at what point they’d lost Finn, Iseult, and Bedelia, but she hoped the three had at least escaped and remained together. With Iseult by her side, Finn would make it to Garenoch. When she was close enough, Anna would be able to sense her . . . she hoped. At that moment, she saw no hint of the shine that usually emanated from Finn, often visible to her across small distances. She hoped it didn’t mean she was dead.

  She stood. “If they were recaptured by the Aos Sí, there is absolutely nothing we can do for them, except to be recaptured ourselves.”

  Kai sealed his lips in a grim line, then looked down at the scar on his palm. She knew what he was thinking, that there had to be some way he could rescue Finn, but Anna had always been realistic. Either Finn would meet them in Garenoch, and Anna would be saved from her visions, or she would not, and she’d be sentenced to eventual insanity.

  “We should get movin’,” Sativola muttered. “I’d rather not wait for those things to find us again.”

  “Yes,” Anna agreed. She led her horse away from the rocks where she’d been seated, then climbed into the saddle, feeling unsure of the creature. None of them had regained their original mounts, perhaps because the new ones were more readily accessible. She’d only had her previous horse since Ainfean, but this new one, even though it seemed a normal brown horse, had her wary. Anything concerning the Aos Sí and their psychotic queen had her wary.

  Kai continued to curse under his breath, but he and Sativola both mounted their horses and followed as she led the way. She had a keen sense of direction, but could only hope she was leading them back to the road after how turned around they’d gotten riding away through the snow.

  While, for selfish reasons, she regretted the loss of Finn, she couldn’t help taking a measure of comfort in traveling without her. Perhaps now they could travel unnoticed and unhindered by Faie, An Fiach, or anyone else.

  FINN FELT ENTIRELY numb by the time her horse slowed its frantic pace. She’d made her way out of the snow, deep into a forest. Though the sun now shone overhead with early morning light, she had no idea if she was near the Sand Road, or had traveled in the complete opposite direction. Now, she wasn’t even sure of the direction of Oighear’s compound. All she was sure of, was that she was alone.

  She looked down at her mount’s white neck as the creature calmly ambled onward. Its fur was stained with her blood. She gingerly pushed her cloak aside and rolled up her sleeve to take a look at the gash. It had stopped bleeding, but the skin gaped like an extra mouth. Knowing little about wound care, she did the only thing she could think to do, and pulled a strip of fabric from the edge of her tattered cloak. Clenching her jaw, she did her best to one-handedly wrap it around her wound, securing it in a knot with her free hand and her teeth. That task finished, she pushed her bloody sleeve back down and focused on her surroundings.

  Though she’d left the snow behind, the air was almost unbearably cold. There was a bedroll tied to the back of her saddle, fortunately, but she’d yet to check its accompanying satchels for other supplies, and she had little motivation to do so. All she could think about was what might have happened to the others. If they’d been recaptured by Oighear . . .

  She sighed. Even if that were the case, she had no idea how to find her way back to rescue them. If she was even capable of rescuing them at all. She patted her horse’s neck, then stroked her fingers through its long white mane, grateful for the horse’s company.

  She worked her fingers further up its mane, marveling at the impossibly soft texture. Seeming to appreciate the touch, the horse stopped walking and turned its head back to look at her. Her gaze moved to the horse’s forehead, and she nearly lost her seat. Right in the middle, its base covered by white strands of mane, was a glistening white horn. The creature looked at her askance with a crystalline blue eye, as if daring her to question its existence.

  Finn stared back at the unicorn in shock. Her scant, previous memories let her know unicorns were exceedingly rare. They had been hunted to near extinction, and the remaining few creatures had faded along with the Aos Sí and other Faie. Why would the Aos Sí give up such a precious creature?

  Eywen’s plea rang through her mind, to have mercy when the time came. Was the gift of the unicorn an effort to gain the Dair’s favor? She felt oddly guilty, since she had little to do with the Dair, and knew she would not likely sway any judgement passed upon the Aos Sí, unicorn or no.

  “We should probably keep moving,” she instructed, not expecting the creature to understand her, but at the same time, feeling odd about nudging such a majestic beast with her heels like she would a common horse.

  The unicorn turned its head forward and started walking again without further prodding.

  “Can you understand me?” Finn gasped.

  The unicorn did not reply, and simply kept walking, so Finn passed off its obedience as a coincidence. Her injured arm was throbbing and she didn’t know whether her friends were living or dead. It didn’t matter whether or not a unicorn could understand her.

  The unicorn carried her onward as the sun slowly made its progress across the clear sky. She allowed the creature full rein, hoping it would not lead her back to Oighear, while secretly wishing it would, if only to make sure her friends were not recaptured.

  Eventually Finn sorted through the satchels secured on either side of the bedroll to find several day’s worth of food, a fire striker, two full waterskins, and a dagger. When she pulled out her first portion of food, a crumbly bannock wrapped in thin cloth, a small coin purse was revealed. Stuffing the bannock greedily into her mouth, she withdrew the purse to examine it. Inside were several coins, and a small blue stone. She held the stone up to the waning sunlight, marveling at its clarity, then quickly stuffed it back in the purse just as the unicorn halted.

  She glanced around through the trees. In the distance was a yellow meadow, just visible through the needles bedecking the heavy boughs. She turned her gaze back to the unicorn. “Are we done traveling for the day then?”

  The unicorn did not reply.

  With a heavy sigh, Finn climbed down from the sa
ddle, then nearly lost her footing on the damp soil below. Her legs felt like the bones within had turned to mush, and could not properly support her. She hobbled to a nearby tree and leaned against it.

  To her surprise, the unicorn followed her, then gently nuzzled against her chest. Its horn hovered perilously close to her face, but she somehow trusted the creature not to harm her. She lifted her uninjured arm to stroke its cheek, once again taking comfort in the unicorns’s presence.

  “What do you say we build a fire so we don’t freeze?” Finn asked.

  The unicorn simply stared at her, then turned so she could reach the satchels on its rump.

  “Can you understand me?” she asked as she searched the satchel for the fire striker.

  The unicorn did not reply, and instead began inspecting the sparse tufts of grass covering the ground. Feeling sorry for the creature, she removed its saddle and bridle, though as she let the heavy saddle drop to the ground, she realized she’d have a hard time getting it back on. Her wound had rendered her right arm nearly useless.

  With a weak body and heavy soul, she removed the satchels and bedroll from the saddle, then set to gathering wood for a fire. She knew if she were traveling with Iseult, he would not allow the comfort for fear they might draw attention, but Iseult was not there, and part of her wanted to draw attention. Perhaps her friends were wandering the same woods as she, and her fire would lure them in.

  It took her longer than she would ever admit to any of her human companions to coax a flame from the dried grass and branches she’d gathered. Once the flames no longer needed her gentle fanning to feed them, she slumped back in relief. Her entire upper arm felt like it had been bashed with a rock, letting her know the wound was deep, and needed proper care.

  The unicorn continued to occupy itself as she moved her clothing aside to reveal the hastily bandaged wound. She unwound its covering and groaned as the fabric tugged at her sticky blood. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she retrieved one of the water skins and splashed cool liquid against the injury.