“You,” Oswald snarled.
Something about the way Oswald stared at him was infuriating. “And what do you find so fascinating?”
“Always fascinating when a man lies to himself.”
“What are you talking about?”
Oswald stepped closer. “You think the world was golden afore Rawhed arrived.”
“It was a lot better than this hell.”
“Beforetime we were slaves. Do you recollect my mother? You must’ve seen her a few times when you were sating yourself.”
Tobias’s heart galloped in his chest. “What are you blathering about?”
“You’ve got faulty remembrances. Do you at least recall your own mother—how she died?”
An image flashed in his mind: his mother’s lifeless face next to his sister’s, both dead of the plague. His hands trembled with anger, and he clutched the pike tighter, warming it with his inner fire. “I remember. What’s it to do with you?”
“They died because they were Tatters.”
His pulse pounded in his ears, and he could taste blood in his mouth. All he knew was that he wanted to smash Oswald’s smug face into one of the rocks. “So what?” he growled.
“Rawhed wasn’t our curse. We needed someone to arrive and tear our world asunder. The Throcknell empire needed to burn to the ground.”
I’m not hearing this. “Rawhed killed Eden,” Tobias roared.
Oswald faltered for only a moment. “The token was spreading. She was already dead.”
“There was a cure. We could’ve got the cure!” Tobias’s gut churned. “You’re a monster. You deserve hellfire.”
“I’ve already been in hell. Now it’s your turn.” Oswald swung his pike, chanting an attack spell, but Tobias ducked, swinging his pike low to take out his friend’s feet.
Oswald fell back, his pike clanging against the rocks. The next moment he was up again, without his weapon. He landed a punch on Tobias’s temple, and pain blazed through his skull. Tobias threw his pike to the ground, pulse thumping. Burn him, a voice whispered in his head. Bathe the world in flames.
He punched Oswald hard in the jaw, again and again, knocking him to the ground. Blood spurted from Oswald’s lips, and the vibrant crimson dazzled Tobias’s eyes. Oswald jumped up again and head-butted Tobias.
Trails of light clouded his vision as he turned his head. He couldn’t focus. He stumbled over a rock before feeling a sharp kick in the ribs. At the second kick, he snatched Oswald’s foot, twisting it to bring him down again. Oswald’s head cracked hard against a stone.
Tobias stared up through the trees. The stars were blinding tonight, trailing light everywhere. Was he fighting Oswald, or the woodwose? He couldn’t remember, but hot energy blazed through him and he wanted to crawl into the earth. Around him, the ash boughs burned, and Tobias pulled off his shirt to cool his fiery skin. He rose, reveling in the wild aura that blazed in his chest.
The scent of the forest grew thicker. He was one with the woods, one with the moss and peaty earth. Birch trees and oaks. The birds’ beating hearts, lichen on felled trunks. The ash trees… the ash. It smelled of ashes.
The trees were on fire.
“Tobias!” someone shouted. A cool hand touched his shoulder, and he turned to see Estelle, her brow furrowed. “What’s happening?”
Through the burning smell, her scent was stunning—an exotic mix of berries, tobacco and rum. Her skin glowed in the moonlight.
It wasn’t Estelle. It was a wood nymph, here to seduce him, her brown hair falling over bare shoulders.
He pulled her close, and she wrapped her arms around him. He pressed his mouth to hers, pushing her up against a tree. Sliding his hand down her back, he grasped at her dress, pulling it higher. She gripped his hair hard, locking him in a deep kiss. White-hot fire spread through his body, and he pressed against her.
“Tobias!” A man’s voice this time. “The trees!”
He pulled away from the nymph, blinking. Not a nymph. Estelle. He’d just been kissing Estelle. The wild burning in his chest began to wane. What the hells is going on?
She ran a finger over his skin. “We can finish that later.”
Tobias looked around, his vision suddenly clear. The trees roared with flames. Alan and Thomas lay battered and bruised, their clothing torn to shreds. Celia held a dead squirrel in her hands, blood dripping down her chin. Oswald sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his head.
Tobias stared. “What happened?”
“Ew!” Celia shrieked, throwing the squirrel carcass to the ground. “Was I eating that?” She spit, wiping a hand across her mouth.
Estelle smirked. “I’d wager you encountered a woodwose, and he brought out some of your baser instincts. And in your enthusiasm, you lit the trees on fire. At least it’s obvious now that you have good taste in women sometimes.”