Page 5 of The Shadow Wand

Thierren tenses as his gaze darts around warily. A creeping chill pricks at his neck and traces down his spine, like the quick brush of skeletal fingertips.Sensing.

It’s coming from the trees.

Before he can reason away his imaginings, righteous anger flares. Thierren glares at the forest. The cursed wilds. It says right inThe Book of the Ancientsthat the wilds are the lair of the Evil Ones and that trees are to be rendered to dead wood for use by Gardnerians.

Wood for wands and churches and dwellings to raise up the Holy Magedom.

And so the wilds must be razed. Subjugated and controlled, as theBookcommands.

We’re going to tear you down, he vows, full of pious resolve.We’ll burn you to ash, along with every evil thing hiding inside you.

It’s not an idle threat. Gardnerian forces are burning large swaths of the Northern Forest to make way for new farms and to flush out hidden Fae. Evil Fae that the Gardnerians thought had been annihilated during the Realm War, but some bands of them had survived by remaining carefully hidden in the remote forests of the North.

Until the Mages started burning the wilds in earnest.

They’re monsters, these Fae—criminal, immoral beasts full of violence and depravity. Thierren has been briefed about the serious threat the Fae pose, the creatures harnessing the evil power of the wilds to attack innocent Mages in an attempt to drive them off their own land.

A heady courage ripples through Thierren.

Dangerous as these Fae are, it’s exhilarating to be ready to give his own life, if needs be, to protect his people from this terrible threat. And to be part of a great, blessed story. The one true story.

The Will of the Ancient One.

“There’re females, I heard,” Branneth muses out of the blue. He waggles his thick brows at Thierren, his green eyes narrowing into a leer. “Best we strip them and give them a thorough inspection before disposing of them, s’what I’m thinking.” He grins again, exposing wide, stained teeth, as if he and Thierren are the best of friends.

Thierren’s jaw ticks as he looks away and sets his sights on the column of soldiers riding before him, two by two.

Undressing Fae,Thierren considers with sharp offense.

The idea is depraved and just so...wrong. As profane as undressing demons.

Thierren glances back at Branneth, this time with unconcealed loathing. The huge idiot must register Thierren’s displeasure on some level, as his grin fades and he swallows, hacks up phlegm, spits, and then focuses on the road before them.

What’s wrong with him?Thierren wonders. The only acceptable place for desire like that is between Mages. Among fastmates.

Elisen’s face comes to mind, and Thierren’s unease softens.

Lovely, wonderful Elisen.

He glances at the fastlines on his hands and thinks of Elisen’s full lips and bright green eyes. Her lustrous ebony hair. Her soft skin that glimmers deep green in the moonlight.

She’s allowed him one brief, intoxicating kiss. Just two weeks back, the both of them finding a blessed, chaperone-free moment behind his estate’s thick hedgerow. Thierren can still feel those soft lips, the contours of her slim waist under his palms, her body pressed against his.

He’ll feel more of her soon, he muses. Both of them are newly eighteen, and their fasting is to be sealed and consummated in one week’s time.

Once he gets this Fae hunt behind him.

You’re meant for great things, Mage Sylus Bane told him only this morning.

Thierren looks at Branneth with resignation, remembering his mother’s wisdom.

Our purity and righteousness keep the Magedom in the Ancient One’s graces. The non-Styvian Mages ride on our cloak-tails—but once the Reaping Times come, if they do not start to follow the Ancient One’s strictures like we do, the Ancient One will shake them free and name them Evil Ones.

Life is simple. Observe the law of theBook, and you are blessed. Don’t, and you are cast out.

Get out.

A rush of hatred flashes out from the trees and straight through Thierren in an unsettling wave. A few of the horses shy, as if they, too, can sense the malice on the air. Thierren glances at the trees as he reins in his horse and sees Branneth doing the same. There’s a storm moving in, the shadows around them darkening.

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