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“Come along, I want to show you something,” he said, pulling me by the hand.
I followed him deeper into the wood, not arguing when he offered to run us to the spot he had in mind. To my chagrin I was already getting tired, and I wanted to feel more of the night air, it reminded me of freedom, though it felt somewhat empty without the scent of a small star-shaped flower.
As he slowed I saw what he meant. There, overgrown with thorns eerily similar to the castle’s was a stone fountain. Every inch sported a different type of stone or gem, and they glittered as if freshly polished despite being abandoned for quite some time.
“This was a fountain built by an earth fae as a mating gift for a druid in Mara’s court.” He stood back, making no attempt to move the thorns away from the masterpiece.
“Why has no one cleaned it?” I said, moving to brush some of the vines out of the way.
“No one could.” He says seriously. In contrast to his words the vines crumbled easily in my hand, it took all of a few seconds to clear it.
“Did anyone try?” I ask just as seriously, only to see him grinning.
“Many, including Drago’s fire, but only a druid can manipulate those vines. Which most likely means you or another in your court were responsible for the thorny barrier of your own castle as well.”
“Did Drago not inherit any druid or earth magic?” I ask.
“No, we think he only inherited the keeper’s magic because it was tied to the land.” He said wincing, as if he felt his mate’s pain even now.
“Why would they do that? Is it not safer to keep your magic inside you?” I asked, unsure how magic really worked.
“It wasn’t really a conscious choice, healing the mind and body as well as manipulating dreams is tricky magic. They require an anchor for their own protection and by using their land they prevented many corrupt fae from misusing the dreams of another to gain power. Though they never expected someone to conquer or curse the entire wood.”
I fiddled with the fountain until I saw what might be a switch, it sparked green under my touch before bubbling to life melodically. The water enhanced the already sparkling stone. “So… perhaps that’s why the Cauldron Keepers called me Daughter of Thorns? Not because of my Kingdom’s name? But my Fae Ancestry?”
“Definitely.” He said with a smile though it quickly turned to a frown as he looked up again.
“What’s wrong? Is it Mara?” I asked cursing my lesser eyesight.
“No it’s not Mara, but I didn’t think we’d sent anyone on patrol tonight.” He muttered. Moments later I heard the squeaking of bats. “Something is off, Come on Nettle, up you get.” He tossed me over his shoulder and made for the Keep. We stopped at the tree line before the moat when the same large roar from my first carriage ride sounded overhead.
Ravensford pushed me backward then, “It’s Drago. Hide.”
He came from the north, circling the keep slowly before letting out another roar. The bats poured out of our keep then, hovering beneath his enormous belly as he continued to circle. Ravensford gripped my hand tightly as Drago roared again, and the bats began flying south in an unnaturally straight line.
The Captain went still as death.
“What is it? What can you see?” I whispered.
The Captain pointed to one of Drago’s feet, and as the bats thinned further, I saw a heart-wrenchingly familiar silhouette in his claws.This time her twisted horns were bowed, her wings hung limp in defeat.
Twenty-Two
Iended up dragging Ravensford back across the moat, only to see most of the humans, while still alive, were drugged into some sort of subservient state. They watched us soullessly from the gardens, halls, and finally the kitchens as we grabbed rations and weapons.
“He most likely plans on sending some of his troops back to collect them when he’s ready.” The Captain said, tears in his eyes despite his monotonous tone. It was like the color and life had drained out of him when he saw Mara clutched in Drago’s claws.
“That’s Giselle, I was there when she was born, and when her daughter was born.” He said, frozen in place again. He touched a dress on the table that was in the middle of being mended.
“Captain, compartmentalize. We need a plan.” The Herbalist and Caldron Keepers were nowhere to be found, but I found conveniently packaged vials laid out for us, as if she knew what we’d need. I threw them in the pack before turning to see Ravensford stuff the dress into his own, I would have questioned it but I saw a bit of his color returning. If it was his lucky dress, then who was I to argue?
“How far away is it by horse? Do we have time to get there before the sun rises?” I look to see him packing a bag of potatoes now, a grin back on his face.
“You are freaking me out.” I admit slowly.
“Just trust me. Grab a bag of sewing needles and thread, and then hand me that empty potato sack. We’re not going by horse. I have a better idea.” He said, grabbing the sack from my hands before disappearing.
Turns out his better idea involved strapping seemingly random items and enough firewood for a week to a donkey before leading us down a dark tunnel without answering any questions.
