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  Iseult slowly shifted his weight from foot to foot while he considered Finn's terms. “If that is what you wish, then we shall depart together after we reach Felgram.”

  “If I am to agree to this, you must tell me everything,” Finn demanded, shocked by how quickly plans were being made. Had she really just agreed to travel with a thief she had met only three nights before?

  Iseult gave her a searching look, as if weighing his options. “Many years before the Faie War,” he began hesitantly, “my people stole a shroud. The shroud that covered the Queen of the Tuatha De in death, to be more precise. I do not know why we took it, or why your people took it first. I do not even know what it looks like. What I do know, is that its theft started the bloodshed of the war that ended with the disappearance of the Tuatha De. My people were responsible for thousands of innocent deaths.”

  Finn's pulse sped with thoughts of war. Flashes of bloodshed and carrion-eating creatures dotted her memory. She swallowed a sickly lump in her throat and fought the urge to gag. “What do you mean, took it first?”

  Iseult smiled down at her sadly. “My people were great thieves, and we stole the shroud from the Cavari, but we didn't steal it first. We were responsible for our own undoing, and responsible for the Faie War, but we were not the only ones guilty of such crimes.”

  Finn did not enjoy that little revelation at all. She thought of herself as above thievery. It could not be that her people were known for it. “So together our people started the Faie War. What does that have to do with why I'm here now?”

  Iseult shook his head and wrapped his arms tightly around himself. If they did not retire to their bedrolls soon, they would both suffer hypothermia.

  “I do not know,” he conceded, “but things are changing. The Tuatha, who have not been seen in forty years, are now being spotted across the countryside. The Travelers are out in droves, and while I have no love for their race, they do not lie. The words the Traveler spoke tonight were prophecy. I fear another war is upon us, and I do not think you came back to the realm of mortals on accident. We cannot sit idly by when the signs are all in front of us.”

  “You were eavesdropping the entire time?” Finn asked, confused because Iseult had not been present to hear the Traveler's prophecy.

  “Not the entire time,” Iseult answered, offering no further explanation.

  Finn shook her head and edged nearer to the trunk of the pine, hoping for a reprieve from the chilly wind. “How do you propose we find answers when both of our clans are gone? I have no idea why I'm here.”

  Iseult smiled as he stepped closer to her. “Have you ever heard of the Archtree?”

  Finn shook her head in confusion. She knew that the Archtree was a great tree of legend. It existed in two worlds at once. Its trunk and branches grew toward the sky in the mortal realm, while its roots reached down into the shadow world where the creators and spirits of nature resided. It was said that to drink a tea made from its leaves would provide that person with answers. Answers to what, no one knew. The tree was a myth.

  “The Archtree is a legend,” Finn said finally. “I will not waste my time searching for a tree that does not exist.”

  “It does exist,” Iseult assured. “My people might have been great thieves, but we were also great sailors. We found the tree on an island, and made a map so that we would always be able to find it in times of need.”

  Finn's heart began to race as she absorbed what he'd said. If they could find the Archtree, she could ask it how to become a tree again herself. “A map?” she questioned weakly.

  Iseult had a wry look on his face that Finn did not trust. He took a step forward to block more of the cold from Finn's shivering form. “You did not think a thief would travel with cartographers by chance, did you? They have access to archives that most of us can only dream of. One such archive is in Cael, the burgh we passed through three nights before reaching Garenoch.”

  Finn couldn't help her smile as the first real hope she'd felt since beginning her quest fluttered in her stomach. “You stole a map?”

  Iseult nodded. “We must travel to Migris, and from there we will sail to the Archtree.”

  “You were on this quest all along,” Finn accused softly, feeling small and vulnerable between the massive tree and Iseult's tall form. “What answers do you seek from the Archtree?”

  “I seek the location of the Fae Queen's shroud,” he answered plainly. “To right my people's wrongs, I must return the shroud to one of the Cavari. I must return it to you.”

  Finn was not sure what to say about his mission. She wanted nothing to do with a shroud that had caused such a bloody war. “What I seek are answers,” she said, “and as you say, the Archtree may give me those. I will accompany you as far as that, but I make no promises in searching for the shroud.”

  Iseult grabbed Finn's hands in his, startling her, though she did not pull away. “I know that it is the reason why our clans are gone. Is that not reason enough to find it?”

  “Or reason enough to leave it lost,” Finn countered.

  Iseult gripped her hands more tightly and looked at her pleadingly, but offered no further argument.

  Finn looked up at him sadly. He seemed so young to her, at that moment. It was a stark contrast to his usual appearance. “I just want to be a tree again,” she explained.

  Iseult's expression softened. “So you truly were a tree all this time?”

  Finn felt a single tear slip down her face. “Until very recently, and all I want is to return to how things were.”

  A long silence ensued. Eventually, as if making up his mind, Iseult shook his head. “My mother believed that the shroud enabled its keeper to speak with the dead,” he said softly.

  Finn stepped away from him once more and peered at him suspiciously. “Why did you not say that before?” she questioned. “What use do you have for the dead?”

  “My people are dead, as are yours,” he replied. “Would you not speak to them if given the chance? Would you not ask them what caused such bloodshed, if only to prevent it from happening again?”

  “You say my clan,” Finn began, “but I do not know them. If I had a family once, they are long since lost to me. Either I became a tree out of a need to be alone, or my people transformed me and left me without any knowledge of who I was. Either way, I do not hope to find them.”

  “You were a leader among the Cavari, their Priestess,” Iseult argued. “Someone important enough to be preserved in the histories.”

  “That is what you say,” Finn pressed, “yet you do not know what happened to me. Why should I believe you?”

  Iseult closed his eyes in frustration for a moment. Just when Finn thought he was done speaking, he opened his eyes once more. “I swear to you, all that I have told you is what I know to be true.”

  Finn's shivering was becoming unbearable. “I will think on this tonight. For now, it is time for sleep.”

  Iseult nodded somberly. Those already asleep had taken their bedrolls to the other side of the pine, but Iseult's and Finn's still remained rolled and leaning against the trunk of the tree.

  The two grabbed their rolls and circled the tree in search of a dry place to sleep. Their group slept close together with their individual forms barely distinguishable, due to the lack of a fire. Upon closer observation, Finn found that Liaden slept on one end, and Anders on the other. Preferring to sleep next to a woman, Finn unrolled her bedding next to the slumbering Liaden and climbed in, still shivering. She had expected Iseult to place his roll near Anders, but instead he set up next to Finn.

  She looked a question at him as he laid down and turned toward her. “I do not trust the Travelers,” he explained. “I would not forgive myself if you were spirited away while I slept.”

  Accepting his answer, Finn closed her eyes. She did not find much warmth, but still she slept, oblivious to the swaying white forms that still bordered their camp.

  Chapter Nine

  Finn woke before everyone else
the next morning. The rain had finally subsided, though the sky was still gray. She sat up slowly in her bedroll, regretting her actions as her small amount of built-up warmth left her. She almost snuggled back down, but then she noticed Liaden's empty bedroll beside her. Perhaps she wasn't the first one up after all.

  She reached across Liaden's vacant spot and poked Kai's shoulder repeatedly. The first few times he didn't move, then finally with one particularly forceful poke, he sat up with a start. “What are you off your head about?” he grumbled, squinting in Finn's direction.

  “Where's Liaden?” she asked, paying no mind to his testiness.

  Kai waved her off. “She's probably off in the woods doing . . . lady things.”

  Finn shook her head. She sensed Iseult rising from his bedroll behind her, but her gaze remained on Kai. “I never heard her leave,” Finn explained. “I think she's been gone for a while.”

  Kai rubbed his eyes and looked at Finn more steadily. “And you can hear people move when you yourself are sleeping?”

  Finn sighed loudly as she got up. “I'm a very light sleeper.”

  She stalked off toward the nearest thicket of trees while the rest of the party began to rise from their bedrolls. The grass in front of her was littered with chunks of old, carved stone, some still forming partial walls of structures. She had failed to notice them the previous night, as they had been obscured by fog.

  “Liaden!” she called out, needing to assure herself that the woman was okay.

  There was no reply. She walked farther, weaving her way amongst the stones, to a rise of land where she could better survey the area.

  Anders reached Finn's side, slightly out of breath. “The others are looking in different directions,” he explained.

  “Kai did not seem worried,” Finn replied, looking toward the horizon.

  “Her horse and belongings are gone,” Anders explained as his eyes scanned their surroundings. “Yet there were no hoof prints leading away in the mud.”

  They walked farther, side by side. Anders had his hair pulled back in a leather clasp to keep the wind from toying with it, and his cloak wrapped tightly around him against the cold. The hair clasp was unnecessary as the wind had finally let up, though the air was still uncomfortably crisp.

  “Do you think . . . ” Finn began.

  Anders stopped and faced her. “Do I think what?”

  “The Travelers . . . ” Finn trailed off with a sick feeling in her gut, letting her gaze drop to the ground.

  Anders placed a hand on the side of her arm, drawing her attention back up. “What about the Travelers? Why would they have reason to lead her away?”

  Finn forced herself to meet his eyes. “I had a . . . discussion last night, with the Traveler. When he left, he was rather angry, and felt I owed him a payment.”

  Anders' gaze intensified at her admission. “A payment for what, exactly?”

  Finn sighed and looked back down. “He gave me information. I did not ask it of him, not really. He was upset that I did not have information for him in return. He felt he'd been cheated of a payment.”

  “And you were planning on telling us this, when?” he practically yelled.

  “You were all asleep!” Finn exclaimed more loudly than she had intended.

  Anders patted his hands at the air in a soothing gesture, though his expression gave away his own unease. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Do you really think that they would take her as some sort of payment?”

  Finn managed a small shrug, though she felt very much like running away. “That, or she tired of our company and decided to strike out on her own.”

  “I wouldn't doubt that,” Anders joked, though he had no smile to back it up.

  After a moment of silence Anders began to pace back and forth, crushing deep green grass underfoot. Suddenly he stopped and whirled on Finn with a finger in the air. “We have to get her back. We need to go now before they get too far.”

  Finn glared at him and crossed her arms. “Of course we have to get her back, but we don't even know for sure that they took her, or where they would take her if they did.”

  Anders held his hands open in front of him, then closed and lowered them, as if he was trying to grasp at a way to explain. “You don't understand. Liaden is a noble of the Gray City. She can't just go missing. If we don't find her, my sister and I will have to answer for it.”

  Finn scoffed. “Well I'm glad to see you're so concerned with her well-being.”

  Anders looked at Finn like she was being silly. “The woman is a terror. I would be more worried about my sister's well being than hers if Liaden stood on the edge of the pit of doom, and Branwen was safe on a feather bed.”

  Finn turned as Kai trotted toward them. “She's gone,” he said as he reached them, stating what they already knew. “Iseult seems to think that the Travelers took her.” He looked down at Finn. “Care to explain why he is under such an impression?”

  Finn raised her hands in the air and stormed back toward camp. “It wasn't my fault!” she shouted as she left them.

  Branwen was rolling everyone's bedding as Finn approached. “À Choille Fala,” she was mumbling to herself. “Ye gods.”

  Finn reached Branwen's side and stood in place to catch her breath. “À Choille Fala?”

  Branwen startled, then turned to look up at Finn. “À Choille Fala. The Blood Forest, the haven of the Ceàrdaman. Where we must go to find Liaden. If we cannot find her . . . ” she trailed off.

  Finn held up her hands. “I know, I know, you and Anders will have to answer for it.”

  “You don't understand,” Branwen said softly. “The Gray City will have our heads for this.”

  Finn shook her head in disbelief. “Why would they let someone so apparently important leave on a journey with only four companions to protect her?”

  Branwen stood and dusted off her divided skirts. “It is not a matter of her import. If we were all killed by bandits, it would be one thing. Yet, if she were the only one to die . . . ”

  Finn raised a hand to stop her. “I think I understand. We will try and retrieve her, but if we cannot, you and your brother will simply have to run away.”

  Branwen shook her head. “The City would find us, I'm sure of it. Not that it matters, we will all likely die in the Blood Forest regardless.”

  Finn waited for the woman to say more, but she did not. Kai and Anders returned from their searching and began saddling the horses. Iseult and Àed returned to the group a short while later, empty handed. Finn was surprised that the two had chosen to search together, but she did not take the time to question it. She met Iseult's eyes for a moment, and offered him a small nod. She had not decided one way or another on traveling with him, but she was not willing to abandon Liaden when her kidnapping could have very well been her own fault. Anders ushered Finn toward her horse, wanting to start their search as soon as possible.

  The party mounted and rode in silence, except for Branwen. She was no longer talking to everyone else, but she would murmur something to herself from time to time.

  Àed rode beside Finn as their slower mounts naturally fell behind the others. The old man was the only one seemingly not overcome by the gravity of the situation, but he did not seem terribly happy either. He hadn't argued about derailing their journey for a woman they'd just met, and Finn found that fact increasingly suspicious.

  Finn cleared her throat to get his attention. He glanced at her, then turned his attention back to the rough-hewn road. “I imagine ye be wantin' to know about the Blood Forest?” he asked irritably.

  Finn nodded her head encouragingly. She had no desire to see the Travelers again, but the Blood Forest still seemed an exciting prospect to her, regardless of the circumstances.

  “The Blood Forest, À Choille Fala, is a place of the Faie. One of the few remaining places where mortals may still venture, though few do,” he explained.

  Finn shook her head in confusion. “I thought the Tuatha De disappeared after the war,
all but the Ceàrdaman.”

  Àed spat on the ground at the mention of the Travelers. “They disappeared from the world of mortals, but À Choille Fala is not of our world. Ye willnae see the Faie right out, but trust me, ye will feel the effects of their presence.”

  Finn felt a flare of excitement intermingled with fear in her chest at the idea of encountering the Faie. Hopefully they would not all be like the Ceàrdaman. “Have you been there before?” she asked, interrupting Àed as he began to mutter on about the Tuatha De.

  Àed gave her a quick glare for the interruption, but answered, “Aye lass, in my youth. I had not hoped to return.”

  When he did not continue, she asked, “Did something bad happen?”

  “Bah,” Àed replied with a wave of his hand. “More of an annoyance than anything. Trow and Boobrie waitin about to trick ye as if they ain't got nothin better to do. I'm supposin they don't, really.”

  Finn knew a bit of Tuatha lore, whether from her time as a tree, or from her previous life, she could not quite place. She knew that the Trow were large Faie, rumored to steal children. Boobrie were human-sized, birdlike Faie who spent their time luring travelers off their paths, and tricking them into becoming so lost that they often never found their way again.

  Àed rolled his eyes at her silence. “I know yer excited lass, ye don't have to hide it.”

  Finn's face broke into a grin, which she instantly reined in, given the reason they were going where they were going. She couldn't help but be a little excited though. She would have never been able to see such things as a tree, at least not in her glen. She had begun to develop a taste for adventure, and she ruefully admitted, if only to herself, that she wanted more of it.

  “How far to the forest?” she asked, trying to sound as somber as possible.

  Àed sucked his teeth in contemplation. “I'm thinkin roughly four days, three if the weather permits.”

  “Do you think we'll be able to find Liaden?” she asked, truly afraid of the answer.