She followed them. And she realized that she had known exactly how to use the power of the Forest to find someone. A little chill went down her spine, but she kept walking.
She had half expected some sort of dank dungeon, but the flowers led her to the east wing, where the less important nobles were housed; the hallways were narrower, and the rooms ranged from small to barely larger than a cupboard.
And then she saw the forestborn with the plump fingers standing outside a door. Again Rachelle thought, Sleep, and again the large, dark flowers blossomed in her hands. She took a step toward him—and he turned, his human appearance falling away as he drew his sword. The face that remained behind was human in shape, but filled with a horrible, beautiful power.
Rachelle ducked and rolled just barely in time to avoid the blade slicing off her head. I should have known he’d sense it, she thought, ripping her sword out of its sheath. He lunged at her again.
It felt like lightning seared down her spine. Her whole body lashed out, so fast that she didn’t even see her sword cut into his neck. But she saw the blood spurt. It seemed to take forever, and though her body was now as sluggish as cold honey, she made it arc out of the way. Blood spattered against the floor.
Then time was normal again, and she was standing by herself in the hallway, a beheaded man at her feet. She’d dodged the blood while it was flying, but now it was pooling around her boots.
Rachelle sucked in a strangled breath. Her body was shaking, but she didn’t feel afraid or disgusted; her mind was wrapped in the cold, dark calm of the Forest. She imagined that cold wrapping around her body, stilling it, and then she tried the door. It was locked, so she kicked it open and strode inside.
The room was small and completely bare except for the once gaudy, now fading red wallpaper. At the center stood Armand. And beside him, holding a knife to his throat, stood Erec.
“Good afternoon, my lady,” said Erec. “I was starting to hope you would never come.”
“What are you doing?” asked Rachelle. She couldn’t look away from the glinting metal pressed against Armand’s throat. Such a tiny weapon, and it would take such a tiny motion to slice through the skin and let the blood come pouring out. The Forest’s dark calm couldn’t stop her from shaking anymore, because this was what the Forest did: it made her watch the people she loved die.
“You need to get better at lying,” said Erec. “I could tell you were still clinging to your human heart, and I knew you would come here to rescue him. Or are you going to claim you’re here to serve the Devourer?”
“I—”
“Don’t bother. I can see you’re tracking our kinsman’s blood into the room,” said Erec. “You’re not truly one of us yet.”
“Isn’t killing kin a forestborn specialty?” said Armand. “Shouldn’t that make her—”
Erec seized a handful of Armand’s hair and yanked his head to the side. “As for you,” he said, his voice low and deadly calm, “had I known what you would do to my lady, I would have cut out those pretty eyes weeks ago and sliced that clever tongue in two.”
“Stop it,” Rachelle snapped. “Stop hiding behind him and face me. Or are you afraid I’ll beat you again?”
“It’s flattering when you have eyes only for me,” said Erec, “but do please take note that you’re in no position to demand anything.”
A hand dropped onto her shoulder, burning cold. Rachelle whirled—but her arm had already gone numb, and the sword dropped from her fingers. Behind her stood three forestborn, hooded and cloaked in blue, and behind them, the Forest was fading into the wallpaper.
Her knees gave out. The nearest forestborn—the one who had touched her—caught her by the shoulders. The hood fell back from the forestborn’s face: it was a tall, dark-haired woman as lovely and lifeless as the moon.
“My son is intemperately fond of you,” she said, “but I am not.”
Rachelle tried to break free, but the last strength was leaving her body. The woman clasped her tight and sat down, laying Rachelle’s head in her lap so that she could see Armand.
And then she pressed a knife against Rachelle’s throat.
“I can’t have my lady escaping,” said Erec to Armand, “and none of us can allow you to escape. So here is what will happen. You have carried the shadow of our lord for six months. You already hold a little of his power, and I know you’ve learned how to use it enough to raise an image of the Forest. You are going to let one of us borrow that power to summon the Forest itself in a ring around the Chateau, so that nobody can get in or out.”
Rachelle’s mouth was numb and sluggish, but she managed to say, “Don’t—”
And then the tip of the blade dug into her throat. The power that held her in place dampened most of the pain, but she could still feel the stomach-turning intrusion of metal into her throat, and the blood dribbling down her neck.
“She’ll heal from this much,” said Erec. “And from a bit more. But not if we take her head off.”