3. Rowan

3

ROWAN

R owan woke with echoes of Cade's eerie bedtime stories in her head and Aeoife next to her in bed. Perhaps it was a mistake to allow a demon to spin his tales, but Aeoife had been so restless the night before, with Orla off in the blighted Dark Wood, that Rowan ran out of ideas. When Cade offered to take over, she let him.

He'd told them a story about how demons made deals with the living in exchange for little pieces of their souls. It wouldn't have been Rowan's choice of a fairy tale, but it put Aeoife to sleep, so she couldn't complain.

Rowan rolled over and spotted Cade sitting by the fireplace.

"Was that story true?" she whispered.

His eyes lit with mischief. "All good fairy tales start with a heart of truth, Rowan. What do you think?"

"Does that happen still?" she asked.

If it did, maybe she could trade a part of herself to change her fate.

Cade's features darkened with something resembling pity. "I see you thinking you've found a solution. Don't even think it. To invite a demon to make a deal is to welcome trouble to your door every morning for the rest of your days. Demons don't make deals they don't come out on the winning end of."

Rowan sighed heavily. She'd known Cade long enough to know when to push and when to let things go. The only predictable thing about him was that his every choice was in his own best interest.

Aeoife curled closer to her side. Rowan had promised the girl's mother five years before—when her abilities had shown up—that she would take care of her. Unlike Rowan's parents, Aeoife's mother was clearly distraught that her middle daughter was a spirit singer. She'd needed to be dragged sobbing from the girl the day she was brought to the tower, and she came to every single visitation day along with Aeoife's two older brothers and her youngest sister. They were a beautiful family and a constant reminder of everything Rowan's family was not.

It was rare that Rowan's family showed up to visitation days, and when they did, they typically only caught Rowan up on gossip. No one asked how she was. No one doted on her, and they never brought her gifts.

The differences were glaring, leaving her sick with jealousy. Rowan felt foolish complaining about it, though. Orla had no family to speak of. A plague had taken her entire brood out when she was twelve.

A bell chimed in the distance, and Rowan reluctantly woke Aeoife for their morning prayers. They made their way down the hall to their rehearsal rooms. They spent their mornings in solitude in identical soundproof rooms.

As they walked down the hall, Rowan peeked into Orla's room. The bed was still made perfectly, the candles unburned. All signs that she hadn't come home yet. Rowan tried to convince herself it was normal. Occasionally, Orla stayed overnight in the keep. She ignored the fact that it only happened when the weather was bad, then thought back to Sarai's vision, and goosebumps prickled her skin.

"Where's Orla?" Aeoife asked, noticing her unease.

"She probably just stayed the night. It was…windy last night," Rowan improvised.

Aeoife looked at her skeptically, but seemed happy to have her anxiety explained.

Rowan guided her down to their practice and prayer rooms on the second floor, silently praying that Orla was safe at Wolf's Keep.

The sun beat down on Rowan as she looked at her reflection in the shop window. Aeoife stood next to her, finishing the last bite of her sticky bun and licking her fingers. Rowan brushed a smudge of caramel from the corner of her mouth, just below the edge of her hood.

When Orla still hadn't returned home by the end of their morning practice time, Rowan tried her best to distract Aeoife with a trip into town for sticky buns.

The din of deal-making vendors and the scent of fresh brown bread filled the air, and the curious gazes of townsfolk clung to the two hooded Maidens standing in front of Marie's Dress Shop. Beside them, Cade glared at all the curious onlookers as if they could see the threatening look in his eye.

A stiff wind blew between the buildings, ruffling their cloaks, giving reflected glimpses of the white dresses beneath. Their frocks were boring compared to the elaborate ones displayed in the window.

"I call the pink one!" Aeoife said, looking at a fluffy pink tulle monstrosity that Rowan wouldn't be caught dead in. Aeoife liked this game of daydreaming about dresses they'd never be allowed to wear. A little dreaming wouldn't hurt her, so Rowan played along.

"Have at it," Rowan laughed.

"I think the green one would look good on you," Aeoife said. "My mom always says that green brings out red hair. My sister Aileen wears it all the time because of that."

Rowan frowned. "I don't know how I feel about a skirt that big. It would get awfully muddy."

"You'd look like a cupcake," Cade taunted.

"Well, it's not for gardening, Rowie. It's for a ball," Aeoife teased, as if there was a scenario in which they'd be going to a ball.

"We should go back. I'm sure Orla is home by now," Rowan said. Suddenly, a murmur went through the crowd behind them. "Let's go see what the fuss is about."

They pushed through the pulsing crowd. The buzz grew louder the closer they drew to the Elder Tree in the center of the square. The magical tree had been transplanted from the Dark Wood years before and acted as a beacon for what was happening with the magic of the forest and the Red Maidens.

When they finally reached the front of the crowd, they saw what the fuss was about. Half the Elder Tree's branches were bright white with blight, the rest their normal, healthy brown.

But it wasn't the blight that had everyone whispering prayers under their breath.

Blood dripped like gruesome rain from the blighted branches of the Elder Tree.

Rowan stared in disbelief. Her mouth went dry and her ears rang. Her chest was too tight to draw breath.

"Rowie?" Aeoife said. Her voice shook with fear. "Doesn't that mean?—"

"Doesn't that mean a Red Maiden is dead?" Cade finished.

Aeoife tugged on Rowan's sleeve, but she couldn't look away from the bloody branches.

After the third tug, Rowan snapped out of it. She looked around the square. Townspeople stood staring at the two Maidens. Aeoife's lower lip trembled under the hood and Rowan's protective instinct kicked in.

"Let's go," Rowan said, tugging on the little girl's hand. She pulled Aeoife through the gawking crowd toward Maiden's Tower. "Don't worry until we have to, okay?"

Aeoife nodded as she stumbled along beside Rowan.

Finn was waiting outside the tower doors. "Rowan, we need your help," he said solemnly. His gaze passed over Aeoife.

"Aeoife, can you go read in your room? I'm going to help the huntsmen."

The little girl hesitated.

"I promise I will come talk to you as soon as I know what's going on," Rowan said. She squeezed Aeoife's hand, and the little girl turned and made her way upstairs.

Rowan turned back to Finn. "It's true, isn't it? Orla's gone?"

"Row, I'm so sorry. I know you were close," he mumbled.

Rowan shook her head, blinking away tears. Having known for years that Orla would likely die young did nothing to soften the sting of her loss. She was just two months from the end of her term. She, Rowan, and Aeoife were a family of their own, and though her whole life brushed up against death, Rowan had never lost someone she cared about.

Evelyn, the Red Maiden before Orla, and Lorna before her, had always been cold toward Rowan, so she had never formed a close bond with them before they passed. Orla's death, however, touched something that lived in the secret part of Rowan's heart.

"Are you sure?" Rowan asked.

Finn swallowed hard. "That's why I'm here. Her body is just over the border in the Dark Wood, but the magic is so powerful none of us can bear to get close. We need you to go get her and pull her out."

Rowan paled. Things were happening much too quickly. She felt as if a clock had begun ticking down in the back of her mind. Tick, tick, tick . Orla was dead, which meant Rowan was the acting Red Maiden. Tick, tick, tick . Orla was dead, which meant Rowan would be dead soon, too. Tick, tick, tick . Orla was dead, and Rowan needed to retrieve her friend's body because no one else could.

She wanted to stay right where she was until her mind could catch up to the new reality. If she didn't see a body, it would feel less real. She wasn't prepared, and yet, in some ways, she'd always been prepared. This had been inevitable since the day she whispered her name to the Dark Wood. Rowan might have been able to pretend, but the knowing lived in the back of her mind like a recurring nightmare.

" I can't " wasn't a declaration she could make, even if the words screamed through her mind. " No " wasn't a word she had the luxury of using. She'd never had an option other than absolute obedience. There was only what the world required of her—which was everything.

"I know it's horrible, but I also know you wouldn't want to leave her there," Finn continued. "We will be close in case anything happens, but every time I've tried to cross the border into the woods, I get this horrible ringing in my ears, and I'm so dizzy I fall over. I didn't even want to ask, but I didn't know what else?—"

"I'll do it," Rowan said, snapping out of her daze.

"I'll go with you," Cade said. She nodded at him, even though Finn couldn't hear the demon.

She followed Finn toward the Dark Wood. Her legs felt leaden, not with fear but with the dread of seeing with her own eyes that Orla was gone. Finn whispered beside her, but she couldn't make sense of the words—something about a lack of blood or obvious injury.

As they approached the trailhead, Rowan flinched at the sound of a loud, guttural scream. Her hands came to her ears, and she doubled over.

"Row, what is it?" Finn asked. He reached for her arm, but she ducked away at the last second. Finn looked chastened by the reminder that he wasn't supposed to touch her in public.

"You don't hear it?" she asked, wincing.

"Hear what?" Finn asked.

"The screaming," she whispered. Her eyes scanned the tree line in front of them.

Finn shook his head.

"It must be the spirits. Maybe she never made it to Wolf's Keep. If that's the case, the monsters of the Dark Wood could have stolen the wandering souls," Cade said solemnly.

"What does that mean?" Rowan asked.

Finn looked startled by her conversation with someone invisible. She'd never fully explained to him about Cade, and she would not make time for it now. It was unlikely he'd approve of her friendship with a demon.

"It means that those souls won't find peace unless they escape to town for the next ferrying. If they get lost in the woods, they'll become wraiths—shadow creatures that lose their sense of identity and are cursed to haunt the woods eternally. There are also evil entities in the forest that gain power by devouring lost souls," Cade whispered.

Rowan hurried to catch up with Finn as they approached a group of huntsmen waiting at the edge of the forest. The sea of huntsmen parted, and Rowan looked at the ground, allowing herself one more moment before her world fell apart.

"Red," the men around her murmured, hands crossed over the heart before they opened cupped palms to her—a sign of reverence toward the new Red Maiden.

Finally, Rowan forced herself to look down the trail.

Only about fifty feet into the forest, Orla's crumpled body lay in the center of the trail. Rowan blinked the tears from her eyes, quickly swiping away any that escaped with her fingers. The screaming was even louder as she moved closer, but the sight of her dead friend blotted out everything else.

"If it's too much," Finn started, "we can?—"

"No, I can do it. She deserves the honor of a burial," Rowan said. She took a step over the border into the Dark Wood and waited. Nothing happened. She continued with Cade beside her.

"Anything unusual?" she asked him.

He gave her a half-hearted smile. "Other than the screeching, you mean?"

"Yes, other than that."

"Not that I can tell," Cade said.

Rowan closed the distance to Orla's body and paused, studying her friend. Orla's blonde hair was spread out around her like a perfect golden halo, and her arms were crossed over her chest with a rose trapped beneath them. Her red cloak was noticeably absent. The pallor of her skin was disturbingly ghostly. Rowan had heard people say that those who'd recently passed just looked like they were sleeping, but Orla didn't look like she was sleeping. She looked empty in a way that opened up a well of grief in Rowan's chest.

She tried to turn down the volume on her emotions and just focus on the scene. There was no blood on the ground around Orla, but when Rowan bent low, she spotted a bite mark on her neck. It wasn't large and deep, as if from the jaws of a wolf, but small and human. Blood crusted the mark, but there was no other sign of violence. Rowan was relieved that she hadn't been torn apart by one of the monsters that lurked off the main trail. Orla knew better than to wander from the trail. It was one of the first things they were taught when they were young Maidens.

It had to have been the work of the Wolf. Orla was just a few months from the end of her service. It seemed he wasn't content to let her live beyond it.

Rowan knelt and checked her friend's pulse, confirming what she already knew—Orla was gone.

"What happened to you, Orla?" Rowan rasped.

She crossed her hands over her heart and said a prayer to the Mother, then a prayer to the Wolf. Although they weren't popular, prayers to the Wolf existed, and Rowan figured if she wanted to pray for the repose of the soul of her friend, it made sense to pray to the god of death. She opened her hands in front of her heart, offering her sorrow up to whatever god or goddess might take it, but it brought her no peace.

She pulled Orla's body up to a sitting position.

"Mother help me. She's heavy," Rowan grunted.

"I can help," Cade said.

"Okay, but you have to make it look smooth, like I'm doing it. I just need to get her onto my back, and then I should be able to do the rest myself," Rowan said.

Still on her knees, she turned and pulled Orla's arms over her shoulders. Her body wasn't even rigid yet, and her skin didn't feel completely cold. Rowan tried to banish the thought that Orla could have been killed while Rowan was in her morning meditation or while she and Aeoife were walking to the bakery. She flicked her hands as though physically trying to shake off the thought.

Cade boosted Orla up, and Rowan came to standing. She bent forward slightly so that most of Orla's weight was on her back.

"Sarai's vision was correct after all," Cade said solemnly.

Rowan said nothing, but she'd been thinking the same thing since she realized Orla hadn't returned from her trip the night before.

Rowan's steps were heavy as she struggled under Orla's lifeless weight. Her hood tugged back from her face slightly, and she fumbled to tug it down. A scream erupted near her in the forest.

"Cade?"

"Just go," he said, turning to face the sound.

Rowan wasn't entirely sure what being a demon meant in terms of his powers other than his ability to spur on more gossip and increase jealousy and envy. If he thought he could help somehow, she wasn't about to argue with him. She staggered the last few steps to the edge of the Dark Wood, her hood nearly all the way off of her face. Most of the huntsmen backed away from her, as if death was contagious, but Finn stepped forward and carefully took Orla's body from her.

Rowan immediately tugged her hood back into place.

"Did you notice anything strange?" one of the huntsmen asked.

"Other than my dead friend?" Rowan retorted bitterly.

"I'll escort the Red Maiden back to the temple," Finn said.

The rest of the huntsmen murmured in agreement. They seemed relieved they didn't have to do it themselves. It was strange to be treated with both reverence and wariness—like a cursed object. Rowan supposed she should get used to it. She was the acting Red Maiden now, even if she hadn't yet been initiated.

She wordlessly followed behind Finn as he carried Orla's body up the stairs and into the Temple of the Mother, where the elders were already gathered. He laid her body on the altar and the elders shuffled closer.

"So it's true," Elder Falon said.

"Yes, Elder. None of us could cross the border to retrieve the body, but Ro—the new Red Maiden was kind enough to do it for us." Finn sketched a reverent bow as he settled Orla's body on the altar.

She looked like a true human sacrifice, which was exactly what she was to them. Orla was a twenty-five-year-old woman who should have had her whole life ahead of her after five years of hard service. She had courage, but to those men, she was an acceptable loss. Rowan was certain every single one of them lacked the fortitude to walk into the Dark Wood alone—to greet the Wolf and make their way back in the darkness with nothing to keep them company but the sounds of the monsters that lurked in the shadows off of the trail.

Rowan turned away and left them, unable to stand the hatred in her heart at the sight of them bent over her dead friend.

She emerged back into the daylight and found Cade waiting on the stairs. He refused to go into the Temple of the Mother. He insisted it wasn't because he couldn't, but because he simply didn't like it in there.

"What did they say?" Cade asked, falling into step beside her.

"I need to be alone," she mumbled, waving her hand to dismiss him. He disappeared without question.

She trudged toward Maiden's Tower with leaden limbs and opened the tower door.

"Rowan, wait—" Finn jogged across the cobblestones.

She paused on the threshold until Finn ducked inside.

"You can't be here," she muttered as she turned away.

Rowan didn't want him to see. She didn't understand what she felt, just that it was too much to bear, and she needed to get it together before Aeoife saw her. The years had made her adept at pushing anything too strong away and processing it when she was alone.

"Please, I just want to be alone," she pleaded.

Finn placed a hand on her shoulder. "Row, you shouldn't be alone. I'm so sorry I had to ask you to do that. You shouldn't have had to. I'm sorry about Orla."

He pulled her into a tight hug. Her first instinct was to push him away. They were standing in the open great room at the entrance of Maiden's Tower, but she wanted comfort. After carrying her friend's corpse out of the Dark Wood, it was the least she deserved.

She let Finn hold her. She buried her face in his chest and sobbed. It felt good to have someone to cling to when her world was crumbling.

It surprised her how easy it was to relax into his touch. His hands were the ones that had saved her from a riptide when they met. The hands that had taught her to hunt with a bow and navigate the woods using the moss on trees and the stars. Finn's hands were the first hands that dared to reach out and treat her as more than just a sacrifice. She wanted so badly to believe the hope they held, but hope was elusive after such a terrible day.

"It's going to be okay," Finn said, brushing his fingers through her hair. "I won't let that happen to you."

If Finn wanted to believe that, he could, but they both knew the truth deep down. In a week, when she walked into the Dark Wood to ferry the souls of the dead to Wolf's Keep, she'd have to do it alone. Finn couldn't protect her, even if he wanted to.

Whether she liked it or not, Rowan was on her own.