Page 3 of Queen of the Wildwood
“I will not hurt you,” declared the shadow, lifting the hood from his head.
My uninjured hand trembled and my fingers curled, ready to hurl magic, ignoring the effects that ravaged my body.
He stopped a few paces away, a question in his dark eyes as he stared at me. I was surprised to find his gaze did not linger on my nakedness. Instead, he seemed to wait for me to allow him closer. With a sharp intake of breath, I realized I knew who he was. It was him, the man who made me burn.
Aelbrin.
On the eve of every full moon, he came to my village to trade. He always stopped by my booth to finger the sheepskin my family used to trade in—although it had been months since I’d seen him. He was a loner, tall, bronze-skinned. His dark hair was disheveled, unruly, almost standing straight up on his head, but he was handsome in a woodsy way. Almond-shaped eyes—deep set in his face below tousled hair—gazed at me with calculated measure. He was shrouded in a forest green cloak, and his stance made me think of the ash trees of the forest, deeply rooted yet growing tall and strong, offering shade and shelter. My eyes fell to a glitter of crimson I’d never seen before. On his hand was a rune which shone blood-red in the sunlight.
At first, heat crept to my face at my state of undress, but at the sight of the rune on his hand, the blood drained from my face. I’d assumed Aelbrin was a friend, for he often shared kind words with me, and brought me a bright red rose during each of his trips. He always wore gloves when he visited, which is why I’d never seen the rune. He’d told me tales about a Mother Tree who protected a tribe of people. They drew magic from her roots and thrived in her shade until a legendary firedrake came down from the mountains and burned the Mother Tree.
The enchanting stories he’d told me fled, and our brief flirtation seemed a trick of the past. My fingers curled once more, readying the magic that flowed within. “Do not come any closer,” I hissed.
Pain laced up my side when I spoke.
Aelbrin’s hazel eyes remained calm until his gaze followed my stare to his hand. A flush rose to his cheeks, and he hid the rune within the folds of his cloak.
I was both surprised and intrigued at his embarrassment. The mark on his hand—the symbol of a snake with a forked tongue—clearly indicated he was a knight of the Dark Queen. Had she sensed a change in magic and sent a knight to deliver me? Even though I liked him, I should end him where he stood. If I had the courage.
My jaw tightened, and I waited for the magic to well up inside me like hot flames licking through my innards. My magic often felt like a storm, using threads of the wind to rip everything apart, but if I focused, I could also use it to bring things together.
Nothing happened.
Angry tears pricked my eyes. I was naked, exhausted, and worst of all, I had destroyed the temple and killed the Sisters of the Light. I was too weary to perform magic in my time of need. The enchantments had never failed me before. Why now?
“I know what you think,” Aelbrin acknowledged.
His voice whispered like the leaves of autumn falling from the trees to grace the forest floor. That voice that sent shivers up my spine and a longing in my heart.
“I serve the Queen of the Wildwood,” he said, “but she didn’t send me here. I was patrolling the southern end of the forest and saw a wave of magic. The queen will send someone to investigate. If you wish to escape her notice, you should leave.”
I stared. Did Aelbrin intend to help me? Or simply warn me away?
“I cannot leave,” I choked out. “Not until I know what happened here. It’s my fault the sisters are gone, and I need them to complete the ritual!”
Aelbrin had already turned to leave, but when I spoke, he glanced over his shoulder.
His eyebrows lifted. "Did you do this?"
Averting my gaze, I nodded woodenly.Magic was a curse.
Aelbrin glanced at my hand and the curve of my fingers. “Will you burn me too?"
My head ached as I shook it.
He slipped the cloak from around his shoulders—revealing a pattern of swirling runes on his arms—and approached me. The silky material slid across my body, cool and warm all at the same time. My numb side throbbed and warmed as blood flowed again. His cloak smelled like the wood on a moonless night, warm and intoxicating with a heady compulsion.
“Mistress Yula, you must come with me, for they will be here soon and they will be ruthless.”
I tilted my head back and met his piercing stare. There was something about him that made me feel calm even though my magic was simply an empty husk.
“They?” I asked. “Who are they?”
His hazel eyes flickered to the wood, and his lips thinned. “The teeth of the forest. Orc-kind. They will seek out any survivors and take them to her.”
My hand went to my throat, my gaze tearing across the meadow, searching for the invisible enemy. “What about the village? The people?”
His eyes dimmed. “The temple is gone. The Queen will kill them.”
