Page 191 of The Edge of Darkness

The creature moved, shifting on its feet beneath the brush. It blended into the dark stone that it crouched upon, shrouded in shadows, until it decided to rise. Branches snapped as it emerged, growing taller, seeming like a thing of the night spilling forth from the depths of the earth.

Auren gasped.

A cù-sìth stared us down with its haunting, green eyes. Its thick, crinkled, black fur shifted with its shoulders as it breathed long, steady breaths through its open maw. Swishing behind it was its long, bushy tail. Like that of a dog’s, it moved left to right with a smooth, swift motion, but only a fool would take that to mean it was calm and unbothered.

Cù-sìth were elusive creatures. Stumbling upon them in the wild was not common, nor was it reassuring. Unless you were a young warrior looking to make a statement and prove yourself with a ritual kill, this beast was the last thing you wanted to cross paths with.

Auren straightened beside me, pushing her shoulders back. “A cù-sìth,” she whispered.

Slowly, I angled my head toward her, wondering who had told her about the creatures. If she knew what they were, then she knew what they symbolized . . .

Death.

The cù-sìth were wolf-like in appearance. Their oversized bodies rivaled the wolves of Drastia—though they were of no relation. Even a fool could discern that they were more monster than hound. Unlike the wolves of the arctic, who could rip a fae apart with little to no effort, these creatures didn’t need to resort to such violence. Their reputations preceded them, which meant the fae and all other creatures kept well away. If a howl was heard in the distance, the fae knew to be quiet and go inside. But if the creature itself was spotted . . . well, the witness might as well start praying. Because if a cù-sìth found someone unsuspecting, the ill-fated omen it carried with it was theirs.

It was not often that I got a sinking feeling in my gut. I knew what this encounter meant. Something did not, or would not, fare well for Auren or me, and judging by the way the cù-sìth had honed in on me, it was probably the latter.

An internal, foreboding itch worked its way through me, one that set my teeth on edge and had my mind spiraling. With all that had happened in the past few weeks, and all that was looming on the horizon, this bad omen was the last thing either of us needed.

“What do we do?” Auren murmured.

“Shhh . . . Let it pass.”

The cù-sìth held its ground, letting out a spine-chilling growl as it watched me. When its glowing, green eyes shifted from me to Auren, my arm tightened against her. The creature noted it, its ears twitching as if it heard the very fibers of my muscles stiffen, or it was sifting through my thoughts. I wouldn’t know if it was. Legend said it was a painless and unsuspecting occurrence, but the creature would sense your fear, feed off your adrenaline, and relay your thoughts to the god of death.

Seconds felt like minutes, and all the while I kept my breath shallow, my heartbeat slow, though it wouldn’t change the fact that the creature had crossed our path. Perhaps I did it for my own sanity, out of the belief that if I remained calm, whatever impending misfortune wouldn’t hit as hard.

Regardless, the cù-sìth lingered long enough to make the message stick, and just when I thought it might very well decide to descend from its perch and turn an unfortunate, distant encounter into a physical threat, it turned its head and slunk back into the forest.

Auren’s hands clutched onto my arm, pulling me around to face her. “Niall⁠—”

“It’s all right,” I said, letting my breathing catch back up to the adrenaline that was surging through me.

“No, it’s not all right. I know what those creatures symbolize. Remic told me what they—” She stopped herself short, eyes flitting back and forth between mine. “Do you think this has something to do with the coming war?”

I shook my head, truly unable to provide an answer. “I don’t know.” The only thing I could do was suppress the uneasy whine that was unfurling inside me, and attempt to reassure her that everything would be okay. “Don’t worry. Not all omens are as dreadful as you think.”

She looked at me like she didn’t believe me. It wasn’t that convincing of a statement, so I couldn’t blame her for being skeptical. “Come on, let’s keep moving. We’re nearly there.” I took her hand, bringing it to my lips to plant a kiss against it.

We walked quietly, intersecting a thin trail that had been formed by some small animal, and following it until the world around us began to dim. The shadows that overcame the forest were not from the weather or the disappearance of the sun. It was from the trees. They began to change as we entered the sacred section of the forest. Elms and pines and birch that were once lively and ripe with green foliage shifted into a form that no other trees in this realm took on. Their bark had been stripped away, and what was left behind was smooth and white as bone, so glossy and unblemished, they made the unaffected birch trees seem like a sad mockery.

But what was truly special about the trees in this part of The Elderwood, was their leaves. Above us, the reason for the dim light, were leaves as black as the night sky. White, glass-like branches lifted a canopy of pitch that cast an ominous gloom upon everything beneath it. Sunlight didn’t even bleed through the leaves or illuminate their veins. Each bract was opaque, as if dipped in ink, shimmering like Calledan stone.

Auren was stunned into silence. Her grip tightened on mine as we stepped further into the forest’s blemish. There were dozens of tarnished trees, all forming a circle around a clearing where nothing grew from the ground. It was as if something akin to death had reached down and laid a hand upon this section of The Elderwood. Although it may not have been death that caused this malformation, it was certainly a force greater than any that dwelled in these lands. This was where Torin fell, where she entered our world, and where Karios descended to meet her.

We came to stop in the center of the smear of black and white, and Auren brought her other hand to her mouth. “This place . . .” Her voice shook. “I . . . I’ve been here before . . .”

I tilted my head, brows pinching in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“In the human realm. The trees in the forest behind my house were exactly like this. I used to go there when I⁠—”

“When you needed to clear your head . . .” I finished. It all started to make sense. She had told me about this when we were at The Lookout. The night I’d fallen—truly fallen—in love with her. “Are you sure the trees looked the same? They weren’t just burned or scalped for their bark?”

“I’m sure.” She let go of my hand to walk to the nearest tree. Her fingertips grazed the glossy trunk before she flattened her palm against it and peered up. “They’re the same. But how?”

“I don’t know.” For the second time, I didn’t have an answer, and that was really starting to bother me. “This is the place where Torin landed many millennia ago. Legend says that her arrival is what turned these trees into what they are now. Karios descended after.”

She turned to look back at me. “Wait—what did you just say?”