The Blood Forest (Tree of Ages #3)

Reaching the entrance, Bedelia wrapped her gloved hand around the rusted iron bar holding the door shut. She slid it back, then pulled the door open. The air that streamed in was so cold it hurt to breathe. Beyond the doorway was a dazzling display of white. The snow had continued to fall while they rested, enough to nearly reach Bedelia’s knees. There was no sign of Iseult’s footprints on top of the snowbank, but he’d gone outside sometime ago, so they had likely been covered. Fortunately, the snowfall had ceased, else she might have turned back around to resume her warm spot in her bedroll by the fire.

She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly, fogging the air in front of her face. Steeling herself, she stepped out into the night, not sure what she intended. Perhaps Iseult could be reasoned with, and convinced to leave Finn’s side for a time so she wouldn’t have to kill him . . . and perhaps the sky was really green and horses could fly.

She gently pulled the door shut behind her, then made her way through the snow. Her boots crunched down through the ice, making it near impossible to walk without stumbling. Eventually she reached level ground where the snow had not piled quite so high. Stopping to steady herself, she scanned the glittering darkness. Everything was still.

She started walking in a randomly chosen direction, staying near enough to the castle perimeter to not lose sight of it. Truly, she hoped she would not find Iseult at all, and she could return to her bed like nothing had ever happened.

She wrapped her cloak more tightly around herself. Keiren had the sight, so Bedelia knew it was a possibility she was watching her at that very moment, but she also knew it was difficult for Keiren to see those surrounding Finn, so perhaps not. Would she know if Bedelia simply gave up on her orders, choosing instead to remain by Finn’s side where she could not be seen?

She shook her head at her cowardly thoughts. It was not in her nature to hide, but it was against her better senses to fight a battle she could not win. Keiren would crush her like an insect beneath her boot.

Perhaps if she told Finn the truth, they could figure out a solution together. She wasn’t sure exactly what Keiren wanted with Finn, but she knew it wasn’t good. Perhaps together, she and Finn could both survive.

She continued walking, so absorbed in her thoughts that she forgot to search for Iseult. Instead she watched the glittering snow beneath her boots. The transformed landscape was stunning, really, especially in the cool moonlight, though it was hard to enjoy since it was so cold.

She froze mid-step as a shiver ran up her spine, and not from the cold. She sensed a presence at her back seconds before a low growl met her ears. Thoughts of Faie wolves raced through her mind, and her old leg wound seemed to throb with the memory.

Her breath caught in her throat. She turned slowly and drew her dagger, wishing desperately she hadn’t left her bow inside with her other belongings.

She saw not Faie wolves, but three normal ones. Their eyes glistened in the moonlight as their paws crunched forward through the snow. She drew her blade, knowing the odds were against her. Her hands were nearly numb with the cold, and the wolves looked emaciated, desperate for a meal. If there were only two of them, perhaps she could have fended them off, but with three, they would easily be able to flank her. All it would take was a bite to a leg tendon and she would go down.

She took a hesitant step back, and the wolves darted forward. She held up her blade to fend off the first attack, blinded as a flash of fiery light cut across her vision. Someone stepped between her and the wolves, pushing her back while waving a burning torch toward the feral creatures.

The animals backed away, frightened more by the fire than they ever would be of a blade.

“Stay near me,” the man with the torch said, and Bedelia realized with a start that it was Iseult.

He herded her behind him, keeping the wolves at bay with his fire as they backed toward the castle where their friends slept. The wolves snapped at the flames, urged on by their hunger. Bedelia’s breath hissed in and out through gritted teeth. She had just come so close to death. After all she’d endured in life, it almost seemed oddly poetic that it could have ended that way, with her nothing more than a meal in a wolf’s belly.

When they reached the snowbank in front of the door, she stepped back and her foot sank. She lost her balance and began to fall, but Iseult’s free hand darted back and caught her wrist, holding her steady. Her breath caught in her throat as she noted the wolves’ hungry expressions, made menacing with shadows from the firelight. If she would have gone down, they would have pounced, fire or no.

“Keep moving,” Iseult ordered.

Nodding to herself, Bedelia trudged backward through the deeper snow until her icy hands hit solid wood. Keeping her gaze on the wolves and Iseult, she pushed the door open and stepped into the hall. Iseult followed her, keeping the torch between himself and the wolves until he was inside, then quickly pushed the door shut and slid the iron bar into place.

Scratching, whining, and a few thuds could be heard as the wolves tested the door, then all was silent.

Iseult turned toward her, torch still in hand, lighting his face and the hall around them. The snowflakes that had gathered in his black hair and on his shoulders began to melt, leaving dark stains of moisture in their place.

“Always have a source of fire at hand when wandering the wilds at night. It will do more for you than a blade,” he explained.

Bedelia nodded as she slowly relearned how to breathe. She tried to keep her thoughts out of her expression, especially the guilt. Did he know she’d only gone outside to stalk him? She would have killed him had she been given the chance . . . and he’d saved her. Perhaps she did deserve to be eaten by wolves.

He stared at her, and she had the feeling he was somehow reading every single thought in her mind.

“I-” she began, then cut herself off, unsure of how she could ever explain.

“Go back to sleep,” he ordered. “I’ll watch the door.”

Bedelia looked down at her feet and nodded, then shuffled away. Halfway down the hall she turned to find Iseult still watching her. “Thank you,” she muttered.

He did not reply. He was clearly suspicious of her now, or perhaps he had been from the start. She would have to step much more carefully from this point on. She didn’t look back again until she had reached her bedroll. She curiously noted that two other bedrolls seemed empty, but did not take time to investigate who was missing. Instead, she noted that Finn was still peacefully sleeping, then quickly climbed back into her bedding. Still half-sitting, she gazed at the illumination of Iseult’s torch at the end of the hall. A moment later, the light went out, leaving her in darkness.

She was beginning to realize that darkness was a place where Iseult was far more comfortable than she. Sure, she’d tasted darkness at Keiren’s side, but it was not where she would choose to live.

Perhaps once, but not now.





Chapter Seven





Iseult watched the lumps that were his companions bundled up in their bedrolls, secretly hoping the lump that was Finn would wake first. He hadn’t missed the two empty bedrolls at the other end of the room. They’d belonged to Tavish and Rae. Either they’d gone out while he was escorting Bedelia back to safety, or they’d somehow snuck by him while he was in the hall, which he doubted.

He’d slept little during the night, and what rest he did allow was spent leaning against the wall near the door. He’d never needed much rest. He’d always thought perhaps it was due to his curse, but Maarav seemed to sleep just fine. Or perhaps he simply pretended in order to feign ignorance about his missing men.

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