Page 8 of Song of the Dark Wood

“You deserve a partner who can build a life with you. You deserve someone who will live a long life, who isn’t forced to spend her youth serving a dark god,” Rowan said.

“I disagree,” Finn declared. “How could I do better than a woman who braves the Dark Wood to protect her people? Your character is far more important to me than your virtue. Even you won’t change my mind.”

He pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. It was a tiny rebellion for both of them and as far into the realm of breaking the rules as he’d ever gone.

“Walk with me? I promise to have you back in time to see Orla off.”

Finn offered her his arm. If Rowan had any sense at all, she’d keep him at a safe distance. Even if she wasn’t a sacrifice—even if she didn’t spend her time guarding her heart and the hearts of those she cared for—she wasn’t sure her feelings would ever match his.

Rowan took his arm. Just once, she let herself pretend to be an ordinary girl with nothing to do but enjoy her huntsman and a wide-open future.

By the timeRowan made it back to the tower, Orla was already in front of the mirror, braiding her hair and making final preparations for the Gratitude and Grieving Ceremony. People in town looked forward to the event that gave families of the dead an opportunity to grieve while also giving thanks for the bargain that kept balance between the living and the dead. But for Rowan the ceremonies were a precursor to a night of dread as she waited for her friend to return safely.

Rowan regarded Orla warily from the bedroom doorway. The memory of Sarai’s vision was still fresh in her mind.

“Don’t lurk,” Orla said, meeting her eyes in the mirror.

“Sorry,” Rowan mumbled as she stepped into the room.

Orla turned and smiled as her gaze passed over Rowan, taking in the mud caked on the hem of her dress. “You should get cleaned up. The ceremony starts at sundown.”

“Are you scared?” Rowan asked.

Orla sighed. “Normally, I’m not, but I feel uneasy about this blight. They’ve asked me to take stock of it, discuss it with the Wolf and report back. I should be fine, but the look of those trees gives me the creeps.”

“Just follow the rules, and you’ll be fine,” Rowan said. She tried to muster confidence she didn’t feel, but her voice shook.

“Why do you look as if you’re grieving?” Orla asked.

Rowan shook her head and looked away. “I wish you didn’t have to go alone. If Cade didn’t make you uneasy, I’d send him with you.”

She hesitated to share about Finn. She’d mentioned him to Orla after the day they’d first met, but she tried not to say how often they saw each other for the same reason she kept everything else to herself. The less Orla knew, the less she’d be compelled to tell the elders if asked.

“Finn said that the hunting party struggled to make their way through the Dark Wood’s magic.”

Orla nodded. “I’d heard as much.” She stood and buttoned her red cloak like it was an ordinary evening, ever steady even in the eye of a storm. Her calm stoked Rowan’s urgency.

Rowan was a stranger to temperance. She only knew how to burn. Her life was a constant struggle to remain composed while she knew herself to be incendiary. Her indoctrination had been entirely about dampening the flames within her, and she didn’t need the elders to see any hint that the embers in her smoldered still—not when they were confident they’d been well smothered.

“Orla, Sarai had a vision that something bad happened to you,” Rowan said, her voice shaking.

Orla’s eyes widened. She turned back to the mirror and licked her lips before meeting Rowan’s gaze in the reflection. “It’s not as if I can choose not to go,” she rasped.

Rowan bit her lip. “Can you just stay overnight? Her vision was of you in the woods.”

The line between Orla’s brow softened. “I’ll make sure that someone walks me back. I promise.”

Rowan nodded. She refused to allow herself to overthink. She pulled Orla into a tight hug and whispered, “Please be careful. You and Aeoife are the only family I have.”

When she pulled back, Orla’s eyes were glassy. “Don’t worry about me. Just keep Aeoife calm. You know how she always has nightmares on ceremony nights.”

It was so like Orla to worry about all of them instead of herself when she was the one most in danger. Though she wasn’t as emotional as Rowan, she insulated both younger Maidens from interacting with the elders. Yet each time Rowan tried to bond with her, Orla had an excuse at the ready for why she couldn’t take part.

“I will.” Rowan nodded.

She usually ended up with Aeoife asleep next to her in her tiny bed. Rowan didn’t mind, even though the younger Maidenkicked. She didn’t want Aeoife to grow up starved for human touch as she’d been, so she showed the girl as much affection as she could.

“Now go change and wipe that scared look off your face before Aeoife sees it,” Orla said. She turned back to the mirror and pretended to keep working on her hair, though not before Rowan saw her hands trembling.

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