8. Rowan

8

ROWAN

R owan hurried into the Dark Wood, her cloak billowing out behind her. If Aeoife woke before Rowan made it home, she might panic. Rowan would need to race dawn back to the tower. She'd just entered the strange, tunneled trees when a movement to her right made her freeze.

Cade burst forth from the tree line.

"Rowan, what took you so long?" he asked breathlessly.

"I was busy with the Wolf. Come on—walk and talk. I need to get back before Aeoife wakes up."

Cade fell into step beside her. "I tried really hard, but I couldn't cross over the boundary into Wolf's Keep. So I guess that's good. You won't run into any demons in there. What was it like? What happened? How was the Wolf?" He stopped short, grabbing her arm. "Did he?—"

Rowan shook her head. "He didn't do anything except give me hot cider and whiskey, and then I fell asleep. I got to meet a reaper, though. His name is Charlie. He was actually really nice, and get this?—"

Cade's eyes were wide with horror. "You fell asleep!"

"That's what you found most compelling about my tale?" Rowan laughed, walking faster.

"That you fell asleep in the lair of the god who is supposed to devour you? Yes, Rowan. That is my first concern," Cade said, running to catch up with her.

"It was fine. He let me borrow his robe to stay warm, and he seemed harmless?—"

"He's not," Cade said. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to an abrupt stop.

A distinct air of danger clung to the Wolf. She wasn't naive enough to believe that just because he hadn't hurt her tonight, he never would, but she'd lost one of her only allies when Orla died.

If she wanted to protect herself and Aeoife, she needed to use every resource she could. The Wolf was tamer than she expected him to be. He was also her only real means of figuring out the mystery of the blight and what happened to Orla. She didn't trust him completely, but she trusted him more than the elders. Most of all, she trusted herself and her ability to sneak around. She knew she could figure out what happened to her friend and, hopefully, how to avoid the same fate.

She met Cade's worried gaze. "You know, for a demon who spends a lot of time convincing me he has no heart and no feelings, you seem awfully worried."

Cade frowned. "I don't have a heart. Just because I've learned how to act human doesn't mean that I am. It also doesn't mean I couldn't wander until I find someone else to talk to. I just prefer talking to you."

Rowan ruffled his hair. "I love you too, Cade."

He smiled despite himself. "Row, seriously. You need to be careful about who you trust. You shouldn't trust anyone completely—even me."

"I don't."

Cade had never given her reason to doubt him, but in her heart, she knew she could only rely on him to serve himself. Most of his interventions in her life had been for his own amusement, but something had shifted the day he saved her from Elder Garrett. She didn't know any other demons to whom she could compare his behavior, but Cade seemed strangely attached to her.

They walked on in silence.

Rowan's mind spun wildly. She'd expected Conor to, at the very least, kiss her. Now she wondered if she'd done something wrong. She'd been dreading his touch, but now she felt strangely offended that he didn't find her appealing enough to even kiss her.

She stopped. Perhaps he wasn't even attracted to her.

"What's wrong?" Cade asked.

A violent flush crept up Rowan's neck, and she shook her head. "Nothing."

"That's not a nothing face," Cade challenged.

"Do you think that I'm pretty?"

"In a boring human way—sure. You have the hair and the eyes, and, you know…the rest of it," he said, gesturing broadly to her body.

She frowned, and he rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Rowan, I think you're lovely. Though I'm not sure I'm an authority on beauty as much as jealousy. I covet you the way I covet all things that belong to someone else, so it may just be envy that makes you lovely to me."

She felt ashamed of needing the reassurance. Most of the time, it felt like men looked at her and saw a magical object instead of a woman. She knew from Mrs. Teverin's lessons that men found that which was forbidden more appealing, so she was never sure if the way the eyes of the men in Ballybrine followed her was because of how she looked, what she was, or both.

Even with Finn, she couldn't help but feel like he was in love with an idea of her rather than who she really was. He thought she was noble, but it wasn't as if she had a choice. So much of her life was simply things happening to her. She often felt like a passenger along for a ride. Now, she'd had a chance to take the reins and instead she'd fallen asleep.

Sarai was one of her best friends, but Rowan kept her at a distance because her mother was the Crone, and she would be the next Crone. As much as Rowan longed to fully be herself with someone, she knew better than to let anyone see every part of her. She didn't want Sarai to be put in a position where she'd get in trouble for hiding Rowan's secrets.

Cade knew her better than almost anyone else. She didn't realize how much she cared about his opinion until that moment.

With no warning at all, she burst into tears.

Cade's eyes went wide. "Rowan, what are you doing? We have to get back."

"I just—I just need a minute," she said, covering her face in humiliation.

She felt pathetic crying in the forest because her only real friends were a ten-year-old, a seer, and a demon. All the stress and anxiety of the past week crashed down on her at once. She wished she could tell someone everything, to feel like there was just one place where she could fully be herself without needing to be on her guard. She wanted the kind of love that came so easily for everyone else. The kind she had never experienced and likely never would.

She didn't blame people. Loving Orla hurt. Losing her was a sharp pain that scratched against her heart like a splinter, aching at the most unexpected times. It was hard to love someone so ephemeral. No one wanted to lose.

Even the Wolf seemed indifferent to Rowan, and that was too much on top of the rest. He was supposed to want to ravish her. She didn't want to die, but she wanted to feel like some part of the many sacrifices she'd made served some higher purpose. Now even that had been stolen.

Rowan sobbed into her hands.

Cade tentatively patted her back. "It's okay, Row. But seriously, we have to get out of the woods. You need to walk and cry."

She used the edge of her cloak to wipe her eyes and continued to walk toward the lanterns flickering like distant stars at the end of the tree-tunnel trail. By the time she reached the border of the Dark Wood, her tears had dried into stiff, salty streaks on her cheeks. She drew up short when footsteps came from her right.

Both she and Cade jumped back as Finn stepped out of the shadows.

"Finn?" she choked out.

He held out his arms, but her gaze darted around the periphery. The risk of getting caught was too high. Instead, they stared at each other.

Finn cleared his throat. "I—I'm glad you're all right. I was so worried. Sarai wanted to stay too, but the Crone wouldn't let her."

Rowan almost started crying all over again as Finn stepped closer. His eyes were ringed in dark circles, and his hair was a mess, as if he'd been running his hands through it constantly—like he did when he was anxious. She was shocked and comforted that he'd waited to make sure she was okay. He took a step toward her, but she held up a hand.

He looked her over for injuries. "Are you hurt? Did he?—"

She shook her head. "I'm exactly as I was before I left."

"I'm supposed to bring you to the elders," he said.

Cade let out an exaggerated sigh. "Can't those perverts wait?"

Rowan's shoulders slumped in resigned exhaustion. "Please, just let me go check on Aeoife. She's going to be so worried if I'm not there."

Finn nodded. "Go get some sleep. I'll say I nodded off and missed you."

She gave him a grateful smile, wishing he would hold her, before she turned and hurried to the tower doors. She paused on the threshold, turning back to look at Finn.

"Finn, thank you for waiting. It means a lot," she said.

He sighed. "I told you I don't mind waiting. As long as it takes."

She took one last look at him before she closed the door and rushed upstairs to find Aeoife.

Rowan had just drifted off to sleep beside Aeoife when a knock on the door ripped her from the dense fog of fatigue. Cade was gone, and Rowan was relieved not to have to face him after her outburst in the forest.

Mrs. Teverin burst into the room. "Thank the Mother! We were worried you didn't make it back. The elders need to see you at once. You need to—" She stopped short, taking in Rowan's puffy eyes.

Rowan held a finger to her lips as she extricated herself from Aeoife's arms. The younger Maiden let out a discontented sigh and rolled over. Rowan tucked the blankets around her.

"I'll be down in a minute," she whispered, finally meeting Mrs. Teverin's eyes.

"Why don't I stay and help you dress? What will we be wearing today—white or red?"

She looked so hopeful, and Rowan wasn't sure if the sudden rush of nausea she felt was due to lack of sleep or the fact that her longtime tutor hoped she'd been bedded by the god of death.

"White."

Rowan looked away, trying to hide her humiliation, but not in time to miss the disappointment on the old woman's face. Mrs. Teverin was silent as she pulled a white wool dress from the closet and helped Rowan into it. As she buttoned up the back, she finally spoke.

"You know, it took at least a month before it happened for Orla. I wouldn't worry," Mrs. Teverin whispered.

"I'm not worried. I just feel like the elders are going to blame me. I swear I did everything right," she said as she turned to look at Mrs. Teverin.

"Of course you did. I taught you. You're a gorgeous young woman. I'm sure the Wolf has his reasons," the older woman whispered as she wiped Rowan's face with a washcloth and got to work braiding her hair.

"How long did it take with Evelyn?" Rowan asked.

Mrs. Teverin wouldn't meet her eyes in the mirror. "Evelyn was a completely different case. It's not important."

"How long?" Rowan repeated.

"Her first night out," Mrs. Teverin said as she finished the braid and secured it with a red ribbon.

A new determination set into Rowan. Perhaps it was the fatigue, but she wanted to do whatever she could to get all her questions answered. She wanted to know about all the past Maidens and the Wolf's relationships with each. She wanted to know what the Wolf did about the blight and what happened to Orla. She'd do what she must to figure it out, so if that meant making herself more tempting to win over the Wolf, she'd do it. If it meant sneaking around the temple and searching the elders' archives, she would. She needed to do whatever she could to save herself and Aeoife. She took a fortifying breath and followed Mrs. Teverin out of the room and down the stairs.

Rowan pulled on her red cloak and was about to pull up the hood when she remembered she no longer needed to. Now that she'd been blessed and sent to the Wolf, she was allowed the small freedom of showing her face in town.

"I'll stay with you while you're with them," Mrs. Teverin said meaningfully. "There won't be any more issues with Elder Garrett."

Rowan smiled gratefully. She'd been so distracted she'd forgotten to dread Elder Garrett. Her mind could only process so many horrors at once, especially on so little sleep.

Ms. Teverin led her downstairs, across the square, inside the temple, and to the meeting room behind the altar. A large mural of the symbol of the Mother, hands crossed over the heart, painted in gold, hung behind the long meeting table. All five elders were gathered around the table according to rank, with Elder Falon seated at the head of the table and Elder Garrett to his right, then Elder Raymond, Elder Graves, and Elder Nasik.

"Finally," Elder Falon said, letting out an exasperated sigh, running a wrinkled hand down the front of his white and gold robes. "What took so long? Huntsman Ashand said he didn't see you return."

"Yes, as I understand, Huntsman Ashand nodded off and missed her. She was asleep after a very long night," Mrs. Teverin answered for Rowan.

"You've been returned to us—by the Mother's grace," Elder Garrett said with glee in his eyes. "We see you're wearing white still. I assume you failed in your endeavor."

Rowan gritted her teeth. "I suppose that depends on how you define success. I led all the souls to Wolf's Keep. They all crossed over. I can also confirm that the blight runs the entire length of the trail to Wolf's Keep, at least for the trees bordering the main trail."

She paused as several elders gasped.

"The Wolf says the blight is not what we think it is. I got the sense that perhaps he's not responsible," Rowan started.

"That's ridiculous. It's a death blight. Of course he's responsible. It would be naive to take him at his word," Elder Falon sighed. "Did he indicate how we could get him to reverse it?"

Rowan shook her head. She suddenly felt foolish for not pressing Conor further on the issue. It was easy for this room full of men who'd spent the night safely in their warm beds instead of in the lair of the god of death to suggest she should have asked more questions.

"I did not get a clear answer about Orla's death, but I?—"

"We already know he's responsible. It's the nature of the bargain. The Maiden often dies, and it keeps the Wolf happy. There's no mystery there," Elder Falon said, cutting her off.

He shocked Rowan with his callousness about Orla. He'd taken a particular interest in her and allowed her extra free time in the afternoons, which she spent concocting recipes at Hanna's bakery.

The group broke out into a cacophony of murmurs and whispered arguments.

Rowan held up a hand, and several elders looked indignant that she was silencing them. "I'm happy to answer all of your questions one at a time."

"Was the Wolf satisfied with you?" Elder Garrett asked.

"Yes. He was very satisfied, but we had much to discuss, and his priorities were to the souls I brought, since there were many more than usual. By the time he saw to that, and we discussed Orla and the blight, it was nearly dawn."

She waited to see if anyone would challenge her and force her to admit she'd fallen asleep, but it was clear that none of them knew exactly how long the crossing took. They didn't seem to suspect anything. She sighed in relief.

Elder Falon handed her a leather-bound book. She flipped it open but found only blank pages.

"A journal," he said. "Each Maiden keeps them, and upon her retirement or death, they are passed along to the elders in case there's pertinent history or information."

Rowan's eyes went wide. She couldn't stop the words that fell out of her mouth. "So you have the whole history of Red Maidens? Can I read them?"

Several of the elders gasped as if that was a preposterous request and also because she'd asked a question without permission. She held her knuckles out for discipline, but Elder Falon waved his hand.

"That's not necessary," he grumbled. "No, you can't read them. They're sacred texts. The ones that have survived are kept locked away. They are invaluable to the elders."

Rowan stared at him. The ones that survived?

As if reading her thoughts, he spoke again. "Several Maidens felt a need to burn their journals upon retirement or just when they were full. We don't have a complete collection."

Rowan looked at the book in her hands. She couldn't imagine the elders reading her personal thoughts and experiences. Perhaps she'd fill it with some choice words. After all, if they weren't going to read it until after she was gone, she may as well get the last word and make it colorful.

"It's just a place for you to keep track of your experiences. Fill it with anything that feels useful or relevant," Elder Falon instructed.

Rowan nodded. As soon as she got some sleep, she would tear through Orla's room and then the rest of the tower to see if there were any journals hidden away. She needed to know what her predecessors had done.

"So the Wolf won't be coming to the village for souls, despite the blight?" Elder Raymond asked.

"No, sir," Rowan said.

"I don't like it. Perhaps there's something wrong with our offering," Elder Garrett proposed, his hungry eyes raking over her.

Rowan's mouth went dry.

"Nonsense. You know well that he doesn't always take the Maiden on the first night," Elder Falon said. "As long as he wasn't dissatisfied, we don't need to worry."

"But what of the Mother?" Elder Garrett challenged. "What if she's unsatisfied?"

Rowan almost laughed in disbelief.

Elder Falon frowned and the well-worn crease in his brow was more severe as he appraised his peer. "Do you have reason to believe that's so?"

"I know from our one-on-one time this Red is very stubborn, and at times, petulant," Elder Garrett started. "The bargain is between them both, remember? Not just the Wolf needs to be satisfied. You know how the Mother abhors selfishness and immaturity. I worry we may need to make an intervention."

"It's a bit early to discuss such a thing, is it not?" Mrs. Teverin interrupted. Half the men looked absolutely astonished that she'd dare interrupt, but the rest nodded with respect.

Rowan stared at her tutor. "What are they talking about?"

Mrs. Teverin shook her head. "It's not important, dear. We can talk about it later?—"

"Oh no, let's talk about it now. The girl should know what's at stake if she doesn't fall in line." Elder Garrett pinned Rowan with a feral grin. "If the Wolf or the Mother gives the indication that they aren't satisfied, it's at our discretion to reconsecrate you and take care of the details ourselves."

Rowan wanted to scream. Instead, she looked around the room for a sympathetic face. "Why is this the first I'm hearing of this?" she asked, trying to make herself sound as timid as possible.

"I see what you mean about the petulance," Elder Raymond said with a sneer, wringing his liver-spotted hands.

Rowan felt like her fury might burn her alive. She'd done everything right, and she still couldn't win. If the Wolf didn't take her, this group of supposedly pious men would deem her unworthy and put her through even more trials than walking the Dark Wood. Half the faces in the room looked hungry for the opportunity. The rest—Elder Graves, who was about her father's age, and Elder Nasik, an older man who'd been appointed after leading a congregation across the sea—looked uncomfortable at the prospect.

Rowan took note of precisely who was on which side in case she needed an advocate later, not that she could count on any of the elders to dissent. They fell in line with each other with minimal argument. Even Elder Falon, who was usually so reasonable, had an inscrutable look on his face.

"I didn't realize I was on such a tight timeline. I assure you all I will do my best to press things on my next visit," Rowan said tightly.

"Is there anything else you need from Rowan? I'm sure she's quite tired," Mrs. Teverin said, as if reading the tenuous grip Rowan held on her temper.

"No, I suppose it's fair to say that we have everything we need for now. We will all sit in prayer with the Mother for her wisdom," Elder Falon said. He waved his hand in dismissal, and Rowan followed Mrs. Teverin out of the room.

"Breathe, girl. You look like a powder keg ready to burst," Mrs. Teverin whispered as they stepped out of the temple into the cool morning air.

Rowan let out her breath, trying to shake away the tension that made her chest ache. "What is the ceremony they were talking about?" she asked.

"It's best if you don't know, dear. Not unless it's going to happen for sure, at which time I will tell you everything. There's no use knowing and suffering the nightmare of worrying about it unless you have to," Mrs. Teverin said in the firm way that let Rowan know she wouldn't say another word about it.

Rowan sighed as they made their way back into the tower.

"I don't know what you did to make Elder Garrett so wound up, but perhaps you could patch things up," Mrs. Teverin suggested.

"Me? I've done nothing except deny him my body, as I was supposed to."

"Yes, but Rowan, you know well what powerful men do when you don't give them something they want. They try to take it. Justice is a lovely virtue, but one you shouldn't expect to find here," Mrs. Teverin sighed.

"And I'm supposed to do something about that?" Rowan asked.

"No—you're supposed to remember it, so you have a plan for when it happens," Mrs. Teverin replied.

The look in the older woman's eyes filled Rowan with grief because, suddenly, she wasn't speaking to her tutor. She was talking to a woman who'd had something taken from her.

"I'm sorry," Rowan mumbled, though she wasn't sure if she was apologizing for her outburst or Mrs. Teverin's suffering.

"Don't be sorry. Be smart, girl. That man has a bone to pick with you, and you'd be wise to have a plan for when he makes an issue of it."

Rowan nodded and wiped away a frustrated tear.

"Those tears won't save you. But perhaps a new dress will. I'll have the seamstress in to make something to entice the Wolf," Mrs. Teverin said. "Let's not worry about the rest of it until we have to. In the meantime, I'll let you sleep."

Even though Rowan had done everything exactly as she'd been told to, she still fell asleep feeling like a failure.