Page 21 of Song of the Dark Wood

A thunderous cheer rose from the crowd. Rowan watched the spirits of the departed that were scattered about the square. They seemed indifferent to the ceremony. Instead, they studiedthe people, trying to poke and tug at their clothes, confused by their lack of corporeal form.

She wondered what the people of Ballybrine would think if she told them how many dead crowded the square.

The Crone nodded, and Rowan turned to face her family. Her mother touched her cheek tenderly, a few tears streaming down her face in a perfect performance of elegant grief. Rowan turned away and awkwardly hugged her siblings and her father, who seemed the only one hesitant to let go. Finally, she caught Aeoife’s eye and gave her a wink before turning back to the crowd.

The Crone and Elder Falon led Rowan from the stairs in front of the temple through the crowd and toward the Dark Wood. The crowd surged toward them, everyone reaching out to touch Rowan. Rowan had almost forgotten it was considered a blessing to be touched by a virgin Red Maiden.

“Thank you, Red,” they whispered as their fingers brushed her hands, her shoulders, her hair.

For five minutes on the dais, she’d had a real name, but now she was simply “Red” again.

Rowan felt claustrophobic and panicked until they finally reached the edge of the Dark Wood, the crowd behind them.

“Bow your heads and pray for our sacrifice to be found acceptable. We give her up to the Mother and the Wolf,” Elder Falon said. He nodded to Rowan.

Rowan met Sarai’s glassy eyes and offered a half-hearted smile. They’d always known it would be this way, but it was still hard to swallow and Rowan had no idea what she would do if their positions were reversed. Sarai nodded toward the crowd, and Rowan turned to see Finn. His face was a picture of devastation, his eyes wide, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. She smiled at him like nothing was wrong. He tried and failed to return the smile.

The Crone placed a hand on her shoulder. “Sing now, girl.”

Rowan took a deep breath, opened her mouth, and sang.

For a moment, there was nothing but the magic of her voice and the ancient song. An unnatural stillness settled in the air before the spirits began to drift toward her.

“Follow me home,

It need not be a lonely road.

Let your tears fall now

And wash away what came before,” Rowan sang.

She turned to face the Dark Wood and shivered. She wished she was wearing something more substantial than a lace-and-silk dress, but the Wolf liked what he liked, no matter the temperature.

Rowan continued the song.

“The trail will rise to meet your feet,

Where the breeze is always at your back,

And the sun shines upon your face.”

She took one last glance back at her friends before turning around and taking her first step into the dark.

6

ROWAN

Rowan forced herself to keep her eyes focused on the trail in front of her, despite the footsteps of the dead behind her and Cade beside her. The darkness swallowed up the glow from her lantern until she could only see a few feet in front of her.

Her gaze darted around the periphery, scanning the blighted branches that curved around the path like a tunnel. Dried leaves crunched under her boots, providing a percussive accompaniment to her song. A rustling to her right drew her attention, and she reminded herself of the first rule of her new existence.

Never stray from the main trail.

Her breath puffed out in front of her in tiny clouds as she sang. Rowan did not know how far she’d wandered and how much farther she had to go. The cold air of the woods seeped into her skin. She tugged her red cloak tighter around her to ward off the chill.

Rowan took solace in the fact that at least the horrific screaming that echoed through the forest a week before—when she’d retrieved Orla’s body—was absent. She was left instead with an eerie silence.

She stumbled on a tree root and fell to her knees, dropping her lantern. She quickly picked up the lantern and launched back into the song, continuing her procession.

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