Page 116 of Burning Crowns

Minutes bled to hours, and day once more turned to night. They only stopped to rest when they were certain the birds had fallen away. This time, Wren was so exhausted she fell asleep by her horse with her water flask in her lap. Shen sat at her side, feeding her strips of dried lamb every time she stirred.

‘Nearly there, Greenrock,’ he said, watching her chew, slowly, reluctantly. ‘Can you make it?’

‘You know I can,’ she said, slurring a little.

‘Good.’ He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. Wren could tell he didn’t believe her. She wasn’t sure if she believed herself.

The next time they set off, Shen had to help her on to her horse. He tied her into the saddle and secured the sword at her hip, before wrapping the reins around her wrists. Then he hopped up on to his own horse, taking care to ride close as they journeyed on, leading their armies east.

Wren’s head lolled, her lids falling with every stride, until at long last, after what felt like an eternity, dawn poured its syrupy light over them. In the distance, Wren spied the climbing branches of the Mother Tree, reaching towards the blushing sky. She straightened in her saddle, grabbing the hilt of her sword. It warmed, as if in recognition of this ancient place. This magical tree.

‘Hold on, Rose,’ Wren whispered to the rising wind. ‘I’m coming.’

Rose

CHAPTER 38

Something was stinking. No,rotting.Rose wrinkled her nose, trying to make sense of the putrid smell. Her head lolled back and forth as she searched for the light. She struggled to open her eyes, to pull herself from the blackness in her mind.

But that smell. That awful,putridsmell … slowly, it was waking her.

Then she heard a growl. A low, guttural sound that sent a shiver down her spine. Her eyes snapped open. It was dark here, but soft strands of dawn light were filtering through the trees.

Trees.Yes, there were trees. She had made it to dry land. The last thing she remembered was the cold water, gnawing at her bones. That felt like eons ago now. She was dry again, and no longer shivering. Her head was foggy and her mouth was torturously dry. She must have been unconscious for a long time. A rogue vine caressed her cheek, as though trying to rouse her from the dregs of confusion.

She was in a forest. Yes, she could smell that now, too – the damp air was thick with mulch and she glimpsed branches jutting down from above. The trunks that clustered around her were twice her size and larger still.

There came another growl. Closer now. Then a low whine. There were animals here.

Rose blinked furiously. Her eyes adjusted, revealing trailing canopies that hid the sky. She tried to move but her wrists were tied with vines while another snaked around her middle, binding her to a trunk. She had the sudden, sickening feeling of weightlessness. She snapped her chin down to find her ankles were tied, too. Her feet were suspended several inches above the forest floor.

Oh no.

Panic surged through Rose. She was trapped. Pinned to a tree like a moth, with no one to rescue her. No one even knew where she was! Her friends were out in the bay, so far from Rose she could hardly fathom the distance between them. The more she remembered about her abduction, the more frightened she became.

And worse, the growls were getting louder. Shadows flitted between the trees, prowling closer.

‘Calm down,’ she urged herself. ‘Focus.Think.’

Another vine brushed her cheek. Rose looked up, studying the leafy canopies. They seemed to go on and on. And yet there was something strangely familiar about them. Then she glimpsed something else – a single luminous seed floating through the trees.

Rose’s heart hitched. She was in the Weeping Forest, the dark, sprawling woods near the Whisperwind Cliffs, and just beyond them, the sands of Ortha. The Weeping Forest was a different kind of graveyard entirely. These ancient trees marked the graves of fallen witches from a long-ago battle, and the winds here often keened with their cries.

‘Celeste’s vision has come true after all,’ she muttered.

Rose steeled herself, trying to quell the rattle of her fear inside her.

‘It’s all right,’ she said, closing her eyes. ‘I’m not alone. Not really.’ She could sense the spirits of her dead ancestors all around her even if she couldn’t see them. Their presence gave her strength, made her feel that hope was not yet lost.

But there came that smell again, sweeping through the forest like a rotten wind. And then a growl so close, Rose snapped her eyes open. She cried out as a panther came darting through the trees.

She struggled, furiously, but her hands were bound so tightly it only made her wrists ache. ‘Leave me be!’

The panther cocked its head, its red eyes too bright in the dimness. A shudder skipped down Rose’s spine as she saw it for what it was – a shell of bones, draped in strips of worn skin. Its mouth was full of sharp gnashing teeth.Stars above.The panther was half dead.

No. It wasundead.

Oonagh Starcrest had pulled this rotting creature from its grave and dragged it into the forest.

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