Page 59 of Song of the Dark Wood

The Mother shook her head. “No, dear, people always believe in death. It’s easy for him to hold onto his power because people die all the time.”

Rowan swallowed hard. The Mother was becoming weaker as the Wolf’s power remained unchanged. No wonder the Dark Wood and death itself were bleeding out into Ballybrine. Conor had been kind to her, but she was probably just naive to believe a few moments of kindness meant that he was innately good.Perhaps he could not help what he was, but that didn’t make him any less dangerous.

“All of this is to say that I’m sorry that happened to you,” the Mother continued. “I should have been there. I’m pulled in so many directions that I somehow missed it, and I shouldn’t have. You are our greatest hope right now—our last good chance to stop what’s already in motion. I’m counting on you, Rowan. Protecting you is my priority, and I will do better. How did you survive?”

The genuine curiosity on the goddess’s face startled Rowan.

“I don’t remember,” she admitted. “I was dying, and I lost so much blood that I’m still weak now. The Wolf and one of his reapers arrived, but I hit the ground and lost consciousness. When I woke up, I was back in Wolf’s Keep.”

“That’s all right. I was just curious,” the Mother said. Her interest in Rowan seemed renewed. “I’ve never known him to save a Maiden before. Perhaps you’ve had more of an impact than you think.”

Rowan blushed and looked away. Part of her hoped that was true, but underneath was a smaller, more insistent part of her that wished it wasn’t. Saving the people of Ballybrine was a heavy weight to carry, even if it was one she’d been holding her whole life.

The burden of being Red Maiden was a passive one that required good manners and indifference to her own survival. Now the Mother wanted her to stand and fight; after a lifetime of being taught not to, it felt unnatural, even if the impulse to survive was one she’d always felt.

The idea of killing a god felt impossibly big. She couldn’t wrap her mind around it.

Beyond that, it was frustrating to be raised in a community that asked her to only be strong at the exact time and in the exact way that it benefited them and to act meek the rest of the time.Her head spun from the dissonance between what she’d been taught to be, what they needed of her now, and what she knew herself to be.

“Stay the course, dear,” the Mother said. “I know that feelings complicate things, but I trust you will find a way to make this happen. Now, I understand that Elder Garrett took advantage of his power. I promised to protect you and I let you down and for that, I’m sorry. It’s difficult to be everywhere at once, and I was out saving one of the fishing ships from a storm. Your brother, Ryan, was aboard one, as I understand.”

Panic swept over Rowan like a wave. Her older brother, Ryan, ran a fleet of fishing boats. “Is he all right?”

“Of course. But you understand, in the wake of my limited powers, I have to use my resources wisely. I assumed you would rather I save your brother’s life.” The goddess looked suddenly weary. “I hate that I can’t save everyone from every bit of suffering, but the reality is that I have to make a lot of hard choices now. I’m sorry you were on the losing end of one of those choices today. I swear I’m doing my best.”

Rowan swallowed hard and nodded. She was happy her brother was safe. Even if ensuring his safety came at the cost of her dignity, it was a trade she’d willingly make if given the choice.

The Mother’s form flickered a bit. “Rowan, truly, I’m sorry that I could not save you. I swear I am working on Elder Garrett, but he has some additional power, and it will take me some time.” Rowan was disturbed to hear Cade’s suspicion of Elder Garrett confirmed, but the Mother forged on. “For now I can only heal the welts.”

The Mother took her hand and a rush of warmth spread over Rowan’s skin. Her back itched and tingled. When the feeling dissipated, the ache was gone.

“It’s natural to have doubts. It’s natural to feel sympathy for the Wolf when he treats you well, but I urge you to think of Aeoife, of your own survival.” The Mother flickered again. “I’m afraid I’m being summoned elsewhere. I will do my best to keep that elder busy. In the meantime, remember our deal. The sooner you can act, the better it will be for all of us. I will gain strength, and I’ll owe you a debt, Rowan. Be brave. I’ll see you soon.”

She faded into a shuddering flame and then nothing, leaving Rowan alone, feeling a strange mix of relief, bitterness, and tenacity.

15

ROWAN

Rowan cut through the Borderwood with Sarai at her side. The wind rustled the branches of the birch trees—bark scratching on bark an ominous sound heralding cooler weather. Autumn was always in a rush to give way to winter in Ballybrine, the ground damp from constant rain and frosting overnight.

The sunlight cast dancing shadows on the forest floor as Sarai squatted low to look at some mushrooms. It was the first hint of peace Rowan had felt all week.

Sarai’s confident presence soothed Rowan. Rowan’s head was spinning and she knew an afternoon gathering herbs with Sarai in the Borderwood would help ground her so she could see a clear path forward.

Sarai had always been braver, wilder, and more daring than Rowan. She was a world unto herself. Where Rowan struggled against the solitude of her life, Sarai embraced every sacred silent moment to herself. She kept her own counsel. Sarai had the kind of wisdom that came from being connected to something higher, something other, but she never lorded it over other people. She was generous with her time, her love, her joy.She lived as if the world owed her something, and she intended to claim it.

Sarai spoke as if feeling Rowan’s appraisal. “I thought about what you said the other day—about what I’d be if I wasn’t what I am.”

“I thought you wrote that off.”

“I did, but then I considered it, and I thought I owed you and me a better answer,” Sarai started. “I love what I am. I love having a foot in two worlds and not fully belonging to either. I love reaching my fingers across the veil and pulling down ideas, thoughts, and inspiration from something much larger than myself. It’s magical and exhilarating—but you know like no one else does that it can also be…isolating.”

Rowan nodded.

Sarai ran a hand down her braid. “If I could be anything, I’d be what I am, but without the rules that keep me in line. I’d want no elders. I’d be a Crone like in the old days when there weren’t a bunch of old men making the scripture more palatable for the wealthy and powerful. The Crone used to write the scriptures, you know, before the men wanted to claim power for themselves.”

“I’d say I’m surprised, but that would be a lie,” Rowan said dryly.

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