Talox gripped her upper arms. “We’ll come back for him, Larkin.”
She shoved away from him. “No. No. There has to be another way.” She paced the alley, the thumping nearly driving her mad. “What is that?” she exclaimed. Even as she said the words, she realized what the sound meant. She jogged to a window, stood on her tiptoes, and peered in.
Rimoth’s young maid, Gilla, was tied spread eagle to a bed to keep the thrall from stealing her away. All her younger siblings slept soundly on the floor beside her. She fought the bonds, repeatedly kicking one of the bedposts with her heel.
All the breath left Larkin’s body in a whoosh. “We have to turn them loose.”
She eyed Maisy. A slow smile of understanding spread across the other girl’s mouth. “I’ll meet you in the forest by the thorn tree.”
Larkin nodded. Maisy took off. Larkin pushed her way into the house, Talox and Tam right on her heels.
“What are you doing?” Tam asked.
She pushed into Gilla’s room and stepped over the children. Gilla lay under the window. Larkin’s sword sang through the bindings holding the girl to the bed. She stood without making eye contact and marched through the doorway, the men stepping aside to let her past.
“Larkin?” Talox asked.
“You can’t get to Denan, but I can.” Larkin unclasped her overdress and let it crumple to the floor. Maisy didn’t hesitate to loosen the corset, releasing her from its too-tight embrace. Larkin kicked the underskirt off, which left her in her shift, just like all the other girls would be at this time of night. Larkin stole a cloak from a peg, tugged it over her traitorous hair, and pushed past them. “Maisy will set the girls loose and then wait for us in the forest. I’ll hide among them, cut Denan free, and meet you on the north wall. You’ll have to pull us up.”
She stepped onto the street. The deepening twilight had leached the color from the world, leaving shades of gray. Gilla headed toward the north gate, which would take her right past the manor house. Larkin hesitated to follow. Bane’s house had once been like a second home to her. And Bane and Nesha—once her dearest, most stalwart defenders—were now her enemies.
Tam grabbed Larkin’s arm, his eyes full of worry. “If the druids recognize you . . .”
She rested her hand over his. “Then you’ll have your chance to rescue me.”
“Larkin—” he began.
“Let her go,” Talox said. “She can do this.”
She nodded her thanks to him. “Just be ready to help us over the wall.” Steeling herself, she forced herself to match Gilla’s pace and strode down the center of the street as if she wasn’t the least bit worried about an arrow lodging in her back. A door slammed behind her. She glanced over her shoulder. Two more girls followed, a third soon joining them. She made her way through the gauntlet of streets, feeling the presence of druids all around her.
As Larkin approached the edge of town, steps scuffed on a roof above—probably archers. Larkin resisted the urge to look up.
A muttered curse. “The girls have worked loose.”
“Let them go,” someone replied. “We have our orders.”
Larkin’s eyes fluttered in relief. They hadn’t recognized her. She came to the edge of town and swallowed a gasp at the sight of Denan, his limbs spread out, the dying light casting his warm skin a sickly silver. From a street over, another girl stepped into view and then another after that. Good. More girls meant fewer eyes on Larkin.
Steeling herself, she left the town and started up the hill toward the manor. She knew druids lurked inside, ready to pounce on Denan at the slightest sign of trouble. Ignoring the prickling of sweat on her skin, she kept her face hidden in the shadows of her cloak and studied Denan askance.
He was naked but for a thin strip of cloth around his waist, his sculpted body sagging with obvious exhaustion. Jaw clenched, Larkin forced herself to slow her steps instead of run to him. “Denan,” she said under her breath when he was seven or so paces away.
His head came up, though he didn’t turn toward her. “Larkin?” His voice was muffled through a gag.
Relief washed through her—he was conscious, at least—followed quickly by dread. “Talox and Tam are waiting for us along the north wall.” At least, she hoped they were. She hoped they had time to get into position and that guards weren’t waiting for them at the wall.
“Your shield?” he managed around the gag.
She knew immediately what he meant. “I’m strong enough.”
She kept walking as if she would move right past the manor house. At the last moment, she darted toward Denan, her sword flaring to life in her hand. Her blade sliced through his ropes. Denan collapsed with a muffled groan before staggering to his feet. He yanked the gag out of his mouth. She positioned her shield between them and the house. An echo of alarm sounded from within. Torchlight flickered in the windows, and the house came alive, druids pouring from its mouth.
Denan gripped her arm. “Run!” They tore past the house, sprinting toward the outer wall.
“No!” Bane cried. “Larkin is with him!” There was a grunt and a shout of frustration.
Garrot’s voice rang above the rest. “Better dead than aiding the enemy!”
She glanced over her shoulder. Men backlit by hastily lit torches lifted longbows. Calling up her shield, she flung her hand back. Among the sound of splintering wood and clacking arrows, light rippled. The magic blasted through her. She staggered and went down to one knee. Denan whipped around, hauled her over his shoulder, and limped forward. She let him, putting all her energy into the shield. Denan stumbled under her weight before finding a steady rhythm.
“After them!” Garrot cried.
Putting away their bows, druids stormed down the hill—druids she and Denan were in no shape to outrun. She let her shield fade away, and immediately her strength returned. “Put me down.”
Denan slid her to her feet. Side by side, they sprinted toward the rising wall. There was no cover, nowhere to make a defense—nothing but open ground and an impossibly smooth surface four stories high.
“Tam!” Larkin cried.
Feet pounded behind them. Someone reached for her. She turned to put her shield between herself and a reaching druid, when he went down hard and skidded to a stop. She didn’t understand until another man went down, an arrow in his chest.
“Tam!” Denan cried.
She turned toward the wall and made out Talox’s hulking form, and beneath him, a long, thin shape shadowed against the lighter wall. A rope. They came to a halt at the base of the wall. Denan grabbed a loop, wrapping it around both their chests as Tam loosed arrows from above.
“This is going to hurt,” Denan said.
Larkin didn’t have time to ask what he meant. The rope jerked around her chest, jerking her up and squeezing so hard she saw spots and her vision darkened. She came around on the stone walkway atop the wall. She blinked to clear her vision. She took a breath. Her ribs groaned in protest. For once, she wished she’d left her corset on to protect her from the worst of it. Facing town, Tam fired his bow in rapid succession. Denan crouched on the opposite side of the walkway, attaching a pulley to one end of the rope. Talox was nowhere to be seen.
Denan looped the rope around a crenellation. “You’re going to have to hold on.”
She forced herself to her feet and followed his line of sight. Talox must have jumped from the wall, using his weight to pull them both up. While she’d been unconscious, he’d run to the edge of the river and tied the other end to a tree.
“What if I fall?” she gasped.
Denan took her face in one of his hands. “Don’t let go.” He enunciated each word carefully. Shouts rang, druids working to open the gates. They weren’t out of this yet. If they didn’t beat those druids to the ground, they’d be surrounded.
I’m not going to throw up. She took hold of the pulley and jumped. She sped through the air. Wind whipped across her cheeks. For a single moment, she was free, her fea
r gone. Then the tree rushed toward her, and she had no way to slow down.
Talox caught her legs, slowing her. She couldn’t hold on and ended up in a heap on the ground. She groaned as she sat up to assess if anything was broken. Her ribs pulsed with pain, but other than that, she seemed all right.
Talox rushed to help Denan, who’d managed to land on his feet and roll to a stop. Shouts and light came from Larkin’s right. The druids had the gate open and were racing toward them.
“Talox!” Denan barked.
The big man handed Denan his bow and quiver and turned to grab Tam’s legs. Denan let loose arrow after arrow. With Talox’s help, Tam managed to slow enough to land lightly on his feet. They started toward the east, staggering to a halt as more druids appeared in front of them.
They were trapped.
“The bridge!” Denan cried.
They turned toward the newly made bridge that led to Larkin’s land.
“Bring them all down!” Garrot screamed.
Arrows sprouted before them. Tam cried out and went down. Pivoting, Larkin held out her fist, the shield a glowing dome before her. Denan grabbed the whistle from around her neck and blew hard. More arrows rained down around them. Sweat ran down Larkin’s temples. Her body quaked with effort. Another round of arrows hit her shield. She felt every one of the arrows as if they’d hit her. She collapsed, everything going dark. When she came to, three druids lay dead, their blood dripping through the fresh-cut boards. Another five fought the pipers.
“One of us is going to have to stay behind and hold them off at this bridge,” Tam said through gritted teeth.
“I’ll do it,” Talox said.
Two more druids joined the fray. One shoved Denan’s ax aside and slipped through, his gaze fixed on Larkin. His ax rose above his head. Denan turned, rushing toward her. He would be too late. She lifted her hand and tried to call up her shield. She managed a golden dusting that puffed away with the breeze.
The druid dropped to his knees. His eyes lost focus as he toppled forward, revealing an ax in his back. Behind him, Bane recovered from his throw—he must have been one of the two druids she’d seen coming in. The pipers finished off the other five men. Bane darted between the shocked pipers, yanked his ax free, and turned to face the coming druids. “Get her out of here.”
Denan stared at him. Bane shoved him toward her. “She’s chosen you. Get her to safety. I’ll hold them off as long as I can.”
Denan snatched her off the ground. She watched over his shoulder as Bane faced the oncoming druids. He ducked a swing and bashed a druid with his shield. His ax cut into another.
“We can’t leave him!” Larkin protested. “They’ll kill him!”
Denan didn’t answer as they crossed her family’s fields, didn’t answer as arrows rained down around them, didn’t answer as Bane fell beneath an onslaught of druids that rushed after them.
“Bane!” Larkin screamed.
Larkin awoke in a tree pod. Midmorning sunshine filtered through the dark canopy. For a moment, she didn’t understand where she was, then everything came back in a rush. Bane. She’d sobbed for hours until Denan had been forced to play his pipes or risk facing the entirety of the horrors of the Forbidden Forest at night. Her mouth had the medicinal aftertaste like when Magalia had treated her after the lethan attack, which meant they had drugged her too. She tried to sit up, but her ribs barked in protest. She gasped and lay back, panting as the pain flared. Denan appeared above her.
“You drugged me.”
“You wouldn’t stop screaming.”
She screwed her eyes shut. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”
He was silent a beat. “Not yet.”
Her head jerked up. “What?”
“They’ve tied him to the crucible. He’s still alive.”
Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself up. “Then we can rescue him.” She swayed.
Denan steadied her. “You need to worry about healing a little first.”
She hated that he was right. “Where’s my family?”
“Foraging. Sela was driving your mother mad scampering about the tree boughs.”
“And Maisy?”
Denan hesitated. “She disappeared this morning, but she slept in the same tree as your mother last night.”
At least she made it out alive. She searched his dark eyes. She had chosen a side—his side. “I can never go back.” Her voice wavered, and she fought to keep her tears at bay.
Denan wrapped his arms around her. “I’m with you. You are not alone.”
Denan tied to the crucible . . . She’d come so close to losing him. The tears she’d been fighting swelled and trickled down her cheeks.
His brow furrowed. “What is it?”
“Don’t scare me like that again.”
His expression softened, and his calloused hands took hold of her face, his thumbs wiping the moisture away. “You, Larkin, are a warrior. With you by my side, we will set this right.” Despite all the evidence to the contrary, she believed him.
He is mine. He’d told her as much the first day they’d met. She’d been fighting him ever since. She didn’t want to fight anymore. She reached up and ran her fingers across the soft hair bristling across his scalp. Her fingers trailed down his scarred cheeks and then, disobedient, strayed across his full lips. His eyes slipped closed. He took hold of her hand, kissing her palm. Honey warmth drizzled through her veins.
Her other hand circled around his neck and pulled him down to her, her lips replacing her fingers. The kiss was soft, full of sweet promises and trembling awareness. She’d kissed him before, a frantic kiss full of desperation and relief and another full of passion and want. But this . . . Surrendering had never felt so much like winning.
Their lips parted, but their gazes didn’t. Something shifted between them, golden and warm and safe. A giving and a taking in equal measure that created a connection as fragile as it was strong.
“What happens now?” she whispered.
Denan smiled, revealing dimples. “We should probably let your mother know you’re awake. She’s been worried.”
That wasn’t what she meant, and he knew it, but she was glad he was giving her space. Rising, he held out a hand to her. She let him help her out of the pod and down the tree, the tincture he’d given her helping with the pain that pulsed through her ribs with each step. When she finally made it safely to the ground, she found pipers everywhere, hundreds of empty pods dangling from trees. All the men wore weapons and armor—a military encampment.
“They arrived this morning,” Denan explained.
The forest take her, this really did mean war, but it also meant she had the means to free Bane. And after . . . Wraiths glided over the elegant wall of the Alamant. Their evil swords cut through the people like scythes through wheat. Darkness trailed after them—a dark stain that spread like smoky tendrils, reaching, grasping for the White Tree until it was no longer white at all, but black as a night forsaken by stars.
She let out a long breath. “After we free Bane, we’ll plant a new tree before the barriers fail.”
“And find a way to reconcile our peoples.”
“Restore the magic.”
“Break the curse.”
Denan chuckled. “Can’t be any harder than what we’ve already done.”
She cocked her head to the side. “You mean sparking a war?”
He leaned in, resting his forehead against hers. “No. We found each other. You brought back women’s magic for the first time in over two hundred years. We aren’t bound by an archaic treaty anymore. It’s time our peoples became one.”
Denan tugged her forward, away from the pods and the men in armor, toward a small stream that gurgled toward an unseen rushing river. Her mother stood in the shallow water, gathering watercress into the pouch around her waist. She looked up as they came closer, ran through the water, and enveloped Larkin in her arms.
Larkin gasped in pain, and her mother quickly released her. “Wher
e are Sela and Brenna?” Larkin asked.
Her mother wiped her hands on her apron. “Brenna is sleeping in one of those pods.” She pointed to one hanging from a branch in a nearby tree. “And Sela . . .” She turned in a circle, her expression shifting to panic. “Where did she go now?” she practically wailed.
Holding her ribs, Larkin turned in a circle and searched the ground for tracks. The three of them spread out, searching and calling. It wasn’t long before Larkin found herself in an ancient part of the forest, not even a whisper to reveal the encampment somewhere behind her. The enormous trees gave off a sense of awareness Larkin had only ever experienced in the White Tree. She found little footprints, the toes digging deep where Sela had run. Trotting, Larkin followed them until they disappeared. She circled, looking for a sign that wasn’t there. What if Sela had been taken by one of the gilgads? Or worse, a mulgar?
Heart racing, she forced herself to close her eyes and reach for her magic. “You’ve given me visions before. I need one now.”
A bird called, trilling sweetly. She opened her eyes, the vision of the bird superimposed over the real world. It fluttered to her right. She ran after it, dodging branches and leaping over roots. It darted between two massive trunks. When she reached the other side, the bird was gone. Winded, she looked back. The trees stood equal distances apart, their boughs weaving together like a crown. Above her, the canopy was thick and nearly impenetrable. At the center was a tree so large it dwarfed all the others.
Standing at the base stood a little blonde girl, her head thrown back and streams of light curling around her. Larkin held her breath and approached slowly.
When Larkin was a few steps away, Sela looked over her shoulder, face lighting up. “I told you,” she said, the first words she’d spoken since Larkin had been taken. “The trees are our friends.”
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Brusenna’s straw-colored hair felt as hot as a sun-baked rock. She was sticky with sweat that trickled down her spine and made her simple dress cling to her. Her every instinct urged her to run from the glares that stung like angry wasps. She had already put off her trip to the market for too long.