Page 48 of When the Woods Go Silent

I just have to be careful not wake her - not while she’s in thrall. It could addle her mind forever.

Instead, I use my earth magic to help direct the forest, its vines and branches more than ready to help. Together, we coax and turn her slowly back toward the row of buildings. She must belong to one of them, but which one? How am I going to get her home without waking her?

If Ronan could see me now, being so careful with a human girl, I would never hear the end of it.

I keep her steady as the forest swells with its own magic, surrounding us and hiding our movements as much as the glamor does. The trees are scrambling to distract the gobbelin and the dreamwalker as I steal away their prey, and I feel the icemagic crackle through the air as the gobbelin woman follows us, freezing the branches and roots behind me.

She won’t give up her meal easily.

I try to move the girl a little faster, wishing I had a bit of Brigance’s air magic to simply float us along. Her legs begin to resist the retreat, her mind still working to finish whatever task was planted into her dreams. Finally, I feel the spell breaking. She makes a soft noise, and I know I don’t have long. She’ll be terrified if she wakes here, naked in the woods.

We’re nearly at the row of buildings, and I’m cursing under my breath. Which one does she belong to? I can’t go opening random doors and tossing her inside.

Thank the Goddess, the woods helps me again, sending vines to curl and point us in the direction of the bookshop, with only a single light shining dimly in an upstairs window. I look up at the familiar building in surprise. So, she’s the new owner.

Things begin to make a little more sense, as far as the woods go, anyway.

William, the old man who owned the shop before, had been a good keeper, hiding many of the older books away from the wrong kinds of humans. More than one Haretian has probably used this store to trade for lore, and I need to come back later and meet the new owner properly. Does she even know what she owns here?

Gobbelins are scavengers, taking what they find. But a dreamwalker would have a reason to risk discovery.

The ice magic at my back finally fades as I help the sleeping woman walk up the back stairs of the building. Once we’re safe on the covered porch, my thoughts turn even more to the strangeness of all of this.

Why were the woods so intent on saving a human? Plenty of humans have died or disappeared in these woods since they first sprouted, and the trees rarely care.

What’s different about this one? She’s grown, but still young. Now that we’re out of danger, I have to work a lot harder not to run my fingers over her deep curves and soft skin, her bright hair like flames licking at the night air.

But I don’t sense anything magical from her. Beautiful, but nothing a forest of idling spirits might be interested in.

Vines curl around her ankles even as I think this, tasting the girl’s bare skin, tapping at her bones and joints as though they could read the secrets trapped inside. I can almost hear their curiosity.

The woods know something I don’t know.

Maybe the dreamwalker does, too.

Maybe... but I cut the hope off at its roots. This can’t be the changeling I’ve been secretly hunting. As enchanting as she is, she has no fae magic for me to sense.

I need to come back tomorrow and talk to her, when she’s awake and not in thrall. She trudges now, her body moving slower without the pull of magic, and I’m afraid that she won’t make it into bed before waking up. I need to hurry.

Spreading my earth magic through the wooden frame of the building, I sense another human sleeping in the upstairs rooms. The girl must belong up there. I gently guide her up the stairs, and she rallies as we climb. Still not awake, but moving as though her muscles remember and her mind is giving directions even while blank. She opens a door and climbs into an empty bed, her face relaxing as she settles back beneath the covers with a little sigh.

She has no idea how much danger she’s just been in, and luckily, she’ll wake thinking it was all a strange dream.

I give in to my desire to study her now, standing over her as she sleeps peacefully, her fiery hair spread sideways on the pillow as though reaching for the trees beyond her window. I’malready imagining how I’ll charm her tomorrow when I come back to the store.

Then I notice the bottle on her bedside table. I snatch it up and sniff the swirling golden liquid, cursing under my breath.

It’s laced with gobbelin blood, which means if she drank this, gobbelin magic swirls through her veins, more addictive and hypnotizing than any drug humans can create.

The dreamwalker and the gobbelin woman really are working together, and that fucking restaurant is hiding more secrets than I thought. I tuck the bottle under my arm and hurry to leave the bookshop.

The reports to my brothers will have to wait a bit longer while I unravel this mystery.

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