Briar flung his arms around Linden again. What he felt—for Linden, for Rowan—it was not a simple thing to untangle. But Pentawynn, that was a dream he’d had since he was a boy.
Linden cleared his throat. “Yes, well. Now that’s settled, I best get back to work.”
As he prepared to leave, someone knocked at the door. It was not the calm knock of a person just checking in. It hammered, sending tremors through the floorboards, startling Vatii off the headboard.
It was Rowan. He didn’t even pause at the sight of Linden with Briar, just blurted, “It got Sorcha.”
Briar paled.
“It?” Linden said.
“The forest. It attacked her. Taken part of her leg—she’s barely walking. She told me not to go, but I’ll not listen. It’s my job to stop this, and I’ve put it off too long. I have to find what’s wrong with the wood.”
“You’re not going in there,” Briar said.
“I am. Came to tell you in case that spell goes off.” He touched the magpie feather and bell hanging from his neck. Linden watched the motion with scrutiny. “Needed to warn you so you know it’s not taken me and don’t come looking.”
“Bollocks to that, I’m going with you.”
In unison, both Rowan and Linden said no, then looked at one another, annoyed.
“It’s my job,” Rowan said. “I won’t risk it harming you.”
“I agree. Don’t be ridiculous,” Linden said. “You’re hardly in a fit state.”
Briar stomped back into the house to grab his cloak, tithe belt, and several vials of milk thistle elixir. Vatii knew his moods and not to argue. “I’m not letting you go in alone,” said Briar. “What if it attacks you, too?”
Rowan sputtered in protest.
“What if you need help? Or a spell, or just another pair of hands?”
Linden halted Briar’s motions, holding his wrist. “And what if your curse worsens given proximity to the very thing that cursed you?”
Though Briar hadn’t considered that possibility, Gretchen’s words echoed in his mind. Her regrets. He pulled free and said to Rowan, “I’m not dead yet, but I won’t be able to live with myself if I let you go alone and something happens to you.”
They all stood quiet long enough that the wind wheezing through the eaves sounded over-loud. Linden’s hard glare turned on Rowan. “You ought to have known he wouldn’t simply sit by.”
Rowan’s returning glare weakened a little under the rebuke.
“The charm on his necklace would have let me know he’d gone into the woods anyway,” said Briar. “I’d have gone in after him one way or another.”
He wrapped his tithe belt around his waist and donned his cloak. Linden watched, stormy and lost. Briar grappled with the ties on his cloak. Somehow, this felt like choosing between them all over again. It wasn’t the case—he didn’t need tea leaves to know that if it was Linden in danger, he’d dive in after him, too. Still…
He didn’t like to do it in front of Rowan, but he leaned in to kiss Linden’s cheek. In his periphery, he saw Rowan turn away.
“I can’t let him go alone,” Briar said. “I’ll be back soon.”
The storm clouds in Linden’s face broke. “You know me better than that. I understand you’d not leave a friend in peril, but I will not leave my lover to the wilds either. I’m coming.”
Briar’s instinct was to argue, but Linden was a powerful witch. They were more likely to succeed with his help. He relented. “All right.”
They set out together, Linden expediting their journey with a portal to the edge of the forest. Stepping through it was like entering a rainforest pavilion at a zoo. The air hung heavy, thick and muddy, the forest’s aura filling Briar’s lungs with loam as though he was at a freshly dug grave mid-burial. On his first visit, the wood had been verdant with life. Now, winter had pruned its branches, leaving low shrubs and thick fog. Beyond that, it felt different, like cloud shapes that changed the longer he looked at them.
“Are you going to inform us what we should be searching for?” Linden asked.
“Anything out of the ordinary,” Rowan answered.
“In a wood of wild magic, that hardly rules anything out.”
