Page 112 of Song of the Dark Wood

“Ah, I see we’re finally beyond formalities,” the Mother said.

“You tricked me!” Rowan snapped.

“You are an investment of my time and resources. I wanted someone to keep an eye on you. I’m sorry that I kept it a secret. I know it feels like a betrayal. I’ve found that people have a tendency to act in a performative way when they know I’m watching. I wanted to know who you really were and what you were made of.”

Rowan shook her head and sighed.

“I needed to know that you could manage this,” the goddess soothed. “I’ve known this crisis of faith was coming for some time now, but I needed the confirmation that you were a Maiden who could handle herself. You’ve always had to be a fierce little thing. I wanted to see if that fire burned deep—that it wasn’t just sparks.”

Rowan sighed. “Well, now you know.”

“You might not like the way I work, but the reality is this: the Wolf can only survive another season if he devours you. If he doesn’t, a new god of death will rise.”

Rowan stared at the Mother, wide-eyed. Never once in any of the scriptures had she read about such a thing. It was one thing to accept that the Mother had the power to create a new god of death, but another to know that Conor could lose out to some other beast without her help.

Rowan shook her head. “Is he getting stronger or weaker? I’ve lost track,” she said with a curt smile. “You contradict yourself every time we speak.”

“He is stronger than I am, but make no mistake—he’ll not make it through another season without you. And I don’t know if I will if you don’t manage to end him. Right now, his blight is growing, but this is his last-ditch effort to inspire the kind of fear and faith that strengthen him.”

The Mother’s words sobered her.

“How can a new god rise?” Rowan asked. “How will that be better?”

“By my grace, of course. And it will be better because we can renegotiate our deal. The people of Ballybrine can bear witness to such a deal, and that will restore faith and rebuild my strength,” the Mother said.

Rowan stared at her, waiting for more. The truth felt just out of reach. “That’s not much in the way of an explanation.”

The Mother frowned. “Have you not already seen how cruel the Wolf can be? No matter what he might want to be, he’s still a monster who can only survive off the souls of innocent young women. He’ll kill you whether he wants to or not. Whether he means to or not. The reality is that the Red Maiden can choose which god of death to serve. I will make a deal with him that does not include your sacrifice. It might still require your weekly service of ferrying the souls, though there’s no reason why you couldn’t be escorted by some brave huntsmen as well.”

Rowan stared at the floor, trying to untangle the thread of what the goddess was saying.

“You think he cares for you,” the Mother sighed. “You think he’s a misunderstood monster.”

“I think no such thing. Don’t pretend to know my mind,” Rowan said.

“Ah, I see you’ve grown some thorns,” the Mother said. Her face changed, and Rowan swore she saw a flash of regret in her eyes. “I’m sorry that you had to.”

Rowan said nothing. Her mind was a mess. At times, the Mother seemed gracious and kind, but she was always pragmatic.

“Dear, it doesn’t really matter if you believe me. I don’t need you to love me or honor me. I just need you to do what’s right, and that is a thing I know you will do, Rowan. You know what is at stake if you fail.”

Rowan swallowed hard.Aeoife. Aeoife was at stake. Whether Rowan wanted to rebel or not, she wouldn’t. Her responsibilitywent beyond herself, and if there was any way she could save Aeoife the same pain, she would do it. What was one more sacrifice in a long line of them?

She might have felt something for Conor he didn’t feel for her, but she still didn’t want it to be true. She wished there was another way, but the only way to end the exchange of Red Maidens for peace between realms was to kill the Wolf and let a new god of death rise in his place.

It was foolish of Rowan to ever dream that her life with the Wolf could be a fairy tale. It was a scary story, a tale of horror in the woods. The only real trick had been the one she played on herself in believing it could be anything else.

“I’ll figure it out,” she said. “Until then, you’ll keep Cade away from Aeoife and me.”

“As you wish,” the Mother said. “You should know he feels quite distraught at your banishment.”

“I don’t care how he feels,” Rowan snapped. She wished it was true, but deep down, she felt Cade’s absence acutely.

Satisfied with her response, the Mother nodded and blinked out of the room in a bright burst of light.

Alone in the silence of her practice room, Rowan’s mind spun too fast. She jumped up and left the tower in a huff, unsure what she was searching for.

As Rowan walked through the square, the stares of the townsfolk made her want to peel off her own skin. No one yelled at her, but hushed whispers still rose as she passed. She cursed her stupid red dress—the dress that made it feel like all of her pain was on display for the world to see.

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