Page 58 of Song of the Dark Wood

Cade threw his hands up. “You tell the Wolf.”

“I’ve never needed someone else to solve my problems, and I won’t start taking favors now. Plus, I have the Mother on my side,” she said.

She hadn’t told Cade about her deal with the Mother because she suspected he would disapprove and the Mother had asked her to keep it a secret. Still, the Mother’s words restored her faith.

It was clear that Cade didn’t know what to make of her newfound devotion to the Mother. “Yes, and what did she do for you just now? Did she save you?”

Rowan’s anger was as bitter as unripened berries in her mouth. “No.” They stared each other down. “She didn’t save me from the monster in the woods, either.”

“What monster?” Cade asked. His entire demeanor shifted from anger to curiosity.

“Some blood-sucking demon in the Dark Wood named Valen. Cade, he was on the trail. He wasn’t supposed to be able to do that. I’d cut myself at Wolf’s Keep, and Conor lost control and chased me?—”

“You bled in the Dark Wood?” Cade asked.

Rowan held up her hands, exasperated. “Not on purpose. It was certain death with the Wolf or take my chances in the Dark Wood. I almost made it.”

“Row, slow down and tell me everything from the beginning.”

Rowan stopped and looked at him. “Tell me where you were first.”

Cade’s mouth formed a grim line. “I can’t.”

“Then I have nothing to say. I have to bathe and then take meditation and rehearsal time,” she huffed. She arched an eyebrow at Cade, daring him to argue. They stood locked in astalemate for a moment. When she turned away, he didn’t argue or try to follow her.

It was what she wanted, but somehow, it felt worse than ever to be left alone.

Rowan sat at the piano,trying to play a piece she knew by heart, but her fingers felt tangled up and her heart was too heavy to enjoy the levity of the music. Her wool dress scraped painfully against her tender back. The welts acted as a constant reminder of an invisible wound that threatened to pull her into a dark hopelessness from which there was no escape. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the memory.

She felt a sinking flood of grief fill her chest. She wished Orla was there to talk to.

Rowan settled her fingers over the keys again. Her grief came in minor chords and staccato notes that struck out of nowhere. It swelled, simmered, turned into tinkling background noise, and then swelled again until she was left as breathless as she was every time she walked by Orla’s empty bedroom.

The sound in the room warped and shifted. There was a bright burst of light as the Mother appeared next to her.

Rowan gasped, and her hand flew to her mouth as she bit back a curse. “Goddess,” she said, crossing her hands over her heart and bowing her head.

“Yes, yes, thank you. I don’t have much time. How did it go this weekend?” the Mother asked, waving her hand dismissively.

“He still wouldn’t take me to bed. I swear I tried. There was an incident in the Dark Wood?—”

“An incident?” the Mother asked, pursing her lips. Her golden curls bounced as she cocked her head to the side.

“I cut myself on some thorns, and the Wolf lost control and nearly killed me. I escaped into the Dark Wood, where I was attacked by a demon named Valen.”

The Mother pressed her lips into a thin line. “I see.” Her eyes focused on Rowan’s neck.

Thanks to a salve from the Crone, the wound was already nearly healed over, leaving only a red imprint of teeth marks on her pale skin. Rowan stared at it in the mirror each morning. She’d expected the marks to be large and wild, the mark of a beast, but instead, they were small and neat and human. It was one more reminder of common monstrosity.

“You said you would protect me,” Rowan said, her voice more accusatory than she intended.

The Mother wasn’t angry. Her face was soft, conciliatory. “I’m sorry. Rowan, I’m going to tell you something that I’m ashamed to admit, but maybe it will give you an idea of the urgency of the situation.”

Rowan nodded intently.

“Unfortunately, the rise of the new religion in the north has stolen many of my followers. We gods take our power from faith. It’s what fuels us. Over the past few years, I’ve lost considerable power. It takes tremendous effort to keep the dark at bay. Things that used to be second nature now require intense concentration.”

“Is that happening to the Wolf, too?” Rowan asked.

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