The group of revelers found Prince Isic, who had been forced to trade his Druidecht clothes for the garb of royalty. The talisman was still dangling around his neck as he knelt weeping by the corpse of his young bride, the daughter of Melchisedeq, Seneschal of Mirrowen.
Phae saw him clutching the body to his chest, heard the wracking sobs as they came like thunder. He begged and pleaded for her to live. Several Shain spirits hovered near him.
She was bitten by the serpent Iddawc, kind master. She cannot be revived.
Only the Seneschal can revive her. Only he with the Voided Keys has that power.
Tears streamed down Shion’s face and Phae felt her own following suit. The look of suffering on his face—he had expressed it before in the Scourgelands, when he thought that she had died. She shared his misery, shared the suffering he endured. His bride’s body was turning pale with each passing moment. On her ankle, two crimson flecks of blood protruded from where the fangs had pierced.
Phae’s eyes widened with realization.
When a Dryad chose a mortal husband, she wore a gold bracelet around her ankle in the image of a twisting serpent. Now she knew why the tradition had started, even though time had dimmed the memory to extinction.
“My poor Shion,” she whispered, her throat catching and choking. Her heart yearned to comfort him. His sadness was terrible. She watched him weep, watched him press kisses against her temple, as if somehow they would overpower the magic of the serpent’s venom.
Shirikant approached them, his face gaunt and haunted by the death. He stared at the girl’s corpse, his eyes ravaged by guilt and despair. Seeing the grieving revelers who had gathered in the hedge maze, he waved them off and barked an order for them to disperse and make way.
Shirikant knelt in the thick grass, clasping his brother’s shoulder with a firm grip.
“How could this have happened?” he said in pretend amazement.
“I must go to Mirrowen,” Shion murmured in desolation. “I must seek help from her father.”
“No,” Shirikant said, shaking his head. “He’ll be furious. He’ll likely curse you. Brother, I’ve been hesitant to say this, but I don’t trust him.” He rubbed his bleary eyes. “If he truly knew the future, why did he allow this to happen? What father would willingly send his child to die? He must not have known. He’s not this wise and all-powerful, benevolent being. He appears the way we want him to be. We’ve formed him in our minds. Isic—you must not go! If he does not punish you for killing his daughter, he may punish the world! Think of the power in his hands. What he might do to us!”
“Stop!” Isic snarled, shaking his head violently. “You speak nonsense, Brother. I knew the Seneschal before I stepped one foot in Mirrowen. This is the only way I can save her. I must cross the bridge again and bring her spirit back. It is said by the spirits that someone can revive in three days. A horse. I must ride now. I cannot waste a moment.” He hefted the body in his arms and handed it to his brother. “I leave her to you. Bring the body to Canton Vaud quickly. I’ll ride ahead.”
The two brothers stared at each other, their emotions conflicted. Shirikant cradled the girl’s body in his arms. “Very well, Brother. I’ll await you there.”
Isic rushed from the hedge maze, sprinting like a madman.
Shirikant sank to the ground, staring at the dead girl in his arms. He stroked a tuft of hair from her forehead, grimacing in pain. He stared for a long while, tears gathering in his eyes. Then dipping his head, he kissed her dead lips.
Phae quivered with revulsion.
“The greatest injury is betrayal.”
- Possidius Adeodat, Archivist of Kenatos
XLIII
They were back in Mirrowen, back to the tree—the origin of the suffering she had witnessed through her visits in time. Her heart panged with sorrow for Prince Isic, unable to see his brother’s treachery, unable to discern the twisting of his soul into savagery. So many pieces were coming together, so many cruelties that wrung compassion from her heart and made her long to return to the Dryad tree she was bound to, in order to share what she had learned with him.
She paced the area around the tree, trying to subdue the battering emotions, to quell the burgeoning feelings of loathing and hate.