Page 84 of Song of the Dark Wood

“I thought you’d be pleased,” Rowan said.

Her face softened. “Dear, I don’t mean to seem ungrateful. I already knew it was healing. The problem is that it doesn’t matter if it’s healing. The Wolf is still getting stronger. If there was ever a time to strike, it’s now. I just need you to understand the urgency. The new religion is a threat to me and to all of us. Right now, it is my will alone that holds back death. Even if the blight is healing in the Dark Wood, I’m not strong enough to prevent it from continuing to spread into Ballybrine. Severalmore apple trees in Ashand Orchards went barren with blight just this morning.”

Rowan swallowed hard and nodded.

The Mother touched her cheek tenderly. “All isn’t lost, dear. You can save us. I believe in you, and I know you can do it the next time you are there.”

Rowan was bolstered by the Mother’s confidence.

“His resolve is nothing for you, Rowan. You are a beautiful, talented woman. He won’t be able to resist,” the goddess said softly.

“I’ll find a way,” Rowan said, her eyes darting to Aeoife’s sleeping form. She didn’t need a reminder of what was at stake. She didn’t want Aeoife to have to suffer the same life she’d led.

“I’ll be watching over you, and I’ll see you soon,” the Mother said. Rowan nodded and watched her fade into a flickering flame before disappearing.

Rowan climbed back into bed next to Aeoife and promised herself she’d go into her next visit with the Wolf with as much information as possible. In the morning, she’d tear the temple apart to find the Red Maiden journals.

22

ROWAN

Rowan poked around the elders’ drawing room behind the temple altar but could not find the Red Maiden journals anywhere. Though Cade had already checked, she needed to see for herself.

She walked down the aisle of the temple and slumped into a pew, looking around for any other obvious hiding spots. She was running out of places to look.

The back doors opened and Elder Garrett stepped into the temple, as if summoned by her dread. She felt the phantom ache of his lashes on her back as he walked down the center aisle.

“I see you’ve failed again, Red.” His lips quirked up in a feral grin. “That’s too bad, though you mustn’t worry. We’ve devised a backup plan, as previously discussed. Come with me.”

Rowan hesitated. She wished Cade was with her, but he had checked in at breakfast before making himself scarce again. She had asked where he wandered off to, but he had just deflected. Now, she wished she’d waited until he was around to start wandering the temple.

“Rowan, am I to take your hesitance as defiance?” Elder Garrett asked. The threat was clear in his tone and the look in his eyes.

She shook her head and made to follow him. He led her to a dark stairwell behind the raised dais at the front of the temple. It was so well hidden that she’d missed it when she was poking around before. The stone stairwell was dim, with just the light from a candle held by Elder Garrett to light their way. She followed a few steps behind, careful to stay out of arm’s reach.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, she followed him down a long, dark tunnel. Dread pooled in her stomach. The air in the space was stale and oppressive. She rubbed her arms, trying to stave off the chill.

Finally, Elder Garrett pulled a lever on the wall and a door creaked open, revealing a large, open room. Rowan followed him inside. The space was slightly brighter, smelling of moss and spiced incense. Several lit torches lined the walls around the periphery, but the focus of the room was on the ceiling at the center. Thick roots grew out from above a stone altar, most of the roots cascading around the domed ceiling but several cutting straight down, wrapping around the bottom of the altar.

“The Elder Tree,” Elder Garrett said before she could ask.

“What is this place?” Rowan inquired.

His eyes lit with menace, and she immediately regretted the question. “It’s a ritual room, of course.”

She swallowed hard, following his gaze to the altar. She stepped closer. There were carvings along the side in the old language that read, “Under the watchful gaze of the Mother, as witnessed by the Crone, for the sake of the living, we sacrifice to the Wolf.”

Intricate carvings of a wolf and the sigil of the Mother wrapped around the front of the altar.

Elder Garrett ran his hand over the cold stone affectionately.

“I don’t think I should be here,” Rowan said, wringing her hands.

“Oh, I think this is exactly where you should be. You see, when you return from the Wolf again this Sunday morning untouched, we’ll prepare this room for the following week, and here on this altar, you’ll be tended to by an elder as chosen by the Mother.”

She took a step back. “That’s blasphemous.”

“I assure you it’s not. We’ve already decided among the elders, and the decision has been sanctified by the Crone, who will bless you here and witness yoursacrifice.”

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