Page 129 of Song of the Dark Wood

She pulled off several leaves clumsily. Her coordination was terrible, but she managed to shove them in her mouth and chew. She fell to the ground and rolled onto her back, looking up at the blue sky as she swallowed the red herb.

Rowan’s heartbeat was sluggish. Her mind wandered to Conor. She wished he was with her. They’d finally come to a tentative understanding, and now something else was going to take her from this world. Rowan wished he’d find her, kiss her, take care of her. She wasn’t sure she truly knew who he was, but she wished for the time to figure it out.

The Mother’s Mercy vine itched at her wrist, but she didn’t have the energy to scratch it. She blinked up at the sky asblackness funneled her vision down to pinpricks, and she faded into sleep.

33

CONOR

Conor tore through the woods. He sensed Rowan’s panic as sharply as her grief and fear. He just needed to get to her, but she was so far from the keep.

The forest parted for him, but he was moving so quickly that branches and thorns snagged at his skin and clothing as he sprinted through. Finally, he came to the end of the Dark Wood and found Rowan in a heap at the very edge of the magical forest.

“Rowan!”

He slid to his knees beside her and almost collapsed from relief when he realized she was breathing. He searched her for wounds but found none. He could find no cause for her sleep.

His eyes passed over the purple stain on her lips. He leaned forward and sniffed it.

Mother’s Mercy vine. She must have mistaken it for another plant. He listened to her heartbeat. It was slow but steady.

Then he saw the red plant on the ground beside her—Vibrant Vine, a magical herb specific to the Dark Wood that spiked bursts of energy in the body. When he and Charlie went on patrols, they often chewed it to stay awake.

Why would she have taken two herbs with such opposing effects?

He reached for her hand, and only then did he notice the Mother’s Mercy vine wrapped around her wrist. It looked strangely wilted, and the sharp scent of it mixed with the sweet smell of Rowan’s blood.

The scene was baffling. The Dark Wood had always reacted to the Maidens, but with Rowan, it felt almost sentient. Perhaps it was simply because he had such strong feelings for her, and the magic was a reflection of his own.

He looked over the scene again. It seemed as if the magic of the Dark Wood had somehow tried to help her.

He looked up at the forest. “Can I move her?”

In response, the Mother’s Mercy vine unlatched from her wrist and drew away. Conor scooped Rowan up into his arms. He turned and found the Crone standing just outside her cottage door, watching them. This was her doing.

“I’ll be back for you,” he said quietly.

Her face betrayed nothing but grim acceptance. She nodded just as a girl who looked about Rowan’s age burst out of the Borderwood.

The girl was startled at the sight of the Wolf holding Rowan before her eyes narrowed suspiciously on the Crone.

“You’re Conor,” she said, her gaze returning to Rowan. “I’m Sarai. Take me with you. I can help.”

He recognized the name. She was Rowan’s friend, the Crone’s daughter.

She turned her accusatory gaze on the Crone. “What did you give her, Mother?” Her tone was clipped, and even without knowing her, Conor read the fury in her eyes.

“Mother’s Mercy,” the Crone called.

Sarai nodded as she stepped closer to him and brushed Rowan’s hair back from her face. “I’m sorry, Rowan. I shouldhave known she was up to something when she sent me away.” She felt Rowan’s pulse. “I’ll be right back.”

She scurried into the Crone’s cottage before reappearing a few moments later with a bag. “Let’s go,” she said, a determined set to her shoulders.

“I know you are the Crone’s protégé, but you might still struggle in the Dark Wood. Even those with magic struggle to make it to the keep,” Conor said.

“Then help me get through because I’m not leaving her right now.”

Conor nodded. He liked Rowan’s friend already.

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