Page 42 of Song of the Dark Wood

The beast screeched, and its weight shifted off of Rowan. The relief was instant. She drew in a deep breath as she squintedagainst the light. One last guttural screech split the air, and then, the beast was gone in a blur of horror and claws.

Rowan tentatively pressed herself up to her hands and knees, brushing her sweaty hair back from her forehead. She turned to see the source of the light.

Standing in the center of the trail stood a beautiful, ethereal woman with bright blue eyes and blonde hair so radiant it looked nearly white. She wore a gown of golden silk so fine that it rippled in the whisper of a breeze.

The Mother.

Rowan stared, slack-jawed, completely in awe. She’d always thought that the elders lied when they claimed the Mother appeared to them, but here she was. Rowan wondered if she’d hit her head in the fall and was imagining it.

She blinked her eyes rapidly.

“You’re not dreaming,” the Mother said with a playful smile.

Rowan’s lips parted in shock, and she shifted to her knees, crossing her hands over her heart and bowing her head. “Goddess.”

She was shocked when a hand came to her shoulder. “Are you all right, dear?”

Rowan nodded in a speechless stupor.

“Can you stand?” the Mother asked.

Rowan took her hand and slowly rose to her feet. “Was that the Wolf?”

The Mother shook her head. “Just a beast of the Dark Wood.”

Rowan brushed dirt from her dress before meeting the Mother’s eyes.

“Rowan Cleary.” The Mother smiled at Rowan’s surprise. “You thought I wouldn’t know the name of our newest brave Maiden?”

Rowan shook her head violently.

“I know what you think,” the Mother began. Her voice was soft and lilting like a pleasant lullaby, in sharp contrast to her magic, which sounded like a dizzying, dissonant symphony. “You think I don’t care about you, but I assure you it’s very much the opposite. You don’t know how many times you didn’t feel me when I walked beside you. I’ve been there since you were a baby, so loud and vibrant and wild even then. I was there when you first started seeing spirits. I’ve been there for everything.”

“Why are you just showing yourself now?” Rowan asked.

The Mother cocked her head, her blonde ringlets bouncing with the motion. “Because you’re not a sacrifice, Rowan. You’re a weapon. I need your help.”

Rowan choked on a startled laugh. “What?”

“You’re aweapon. I know there are flaws in the way they taught you. Unfortunately, speaking to the elders has its limitations. They force my words through the filter that occasionally distorts my true meaning.”

Rowan’s fatigue and the impossibility of the situation slammed into her at once. Her mind felt sluggish. “Then why not find a better filter? A better scribe?” She hadn’t meant to sound so accusatory.

The Mother laughed. “I gave them more power, hoping they’d help our people grow and thrive in my light. It was foolish of me to add other players and expect that they wouldn’t hoard what power I gave them. I thought they’d help support my people better, but they’ve focused solely on making themselves integral to the faith. That is why I need your help.”

“Me?” Rowan squeaked.

The Mother nodded. “I have little time. It’s hard for me to stay corporeal in the Dark Wood since it’s not my realm. Walk with me.”

She held out her elbow, and Rowan threaded her arm through.

“I know that this is a lot to take in,” the Mother said as they walked toward Ballybrine. “You are very important. You must stay alive and survive this term, and you know what is at stake if you don’t.”

“Aeoife,” Rowan breathed.

The Mother smiled sympathetically. “Yes. I know you care for her and I want to protect both of you. As you’ve seen, this blight is a problem. It’s spreading toward town, and I don’t know how much time we have to keep death from spreading to the land of the living. That’s where you come in.”

“But what can I possibly do to stop that? Please don’t tell me to entice the Wolf into bed like everyone else,” she sighed miserably.

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