I hurried past the library to the back stairs I’d discovered a few days ago and stalked out the side door near the kitchen, into the gray world of the Shadowlands. There was no breeze today. The air was stagnant, unchanging. I looked up, noting that there were no clouds. There were never clouds, but the stars were shining, blanketing the sky.
Crossing the courtyard, I looked up at the tall, imposing Rise. As I expected, there were no guards. I had never seen them on this side. Normally, they patrolled the western portion, the front, and the northern part of the Red Woods, which faced Lethe.
The gray grass crunched under my boots as I continued forward. I really had no idea where I was going. All I knew was that I couldn’t spend another moment in the dusty, sad library, my chambers, or in the bare, empty palace where I felt as unseen as I did in Wayfair.
And that was silly. I only needed to be seen by Ash, but I was still a ghost. Nothing.
I hadn’t realized how close I’d come to the Red Woods until I found myself mere feet from one of the blood leaves. My steps slowed as I took them in, curious. I’d never seen a leaf such a vibrant shade of red before. Nor iron-hued bark. What could have turned them this color? I walked forward, just a few feet into where I was forbidden to travel. I remembered Ash’s warning, but how dangerous could they be when no gate or wall separated the woods from Haides?
I looked over my shoulder, seeing no sign of Ector. With Saion and Rhain checking on the missing woman in Lethe, there was no one who would run back and tell on me.
And it wasn’t like I couldn’t take care of myself while Ash was busy with Veses, doing the gods’ only knew what.
A faint ache threatened to return to my temples as I reached up, touching a leaf on a low-hanging branch. The texture was smooth and soft, reminding me of velvet. I dragged my thumb over the supple leaf, my mind conjuring the image of Ash doing the same with a strand of my hair.
Was Ash as fascinated with Veses’ hair as he so often appeared to be with mine? I imagined he would be. Her curls were thick and bouncy and didn’t resemble a nest of tangles.
“I’m the worst,” I muttered, rolling my eyes as I lowered my hand and drifted forward.
I shouldn’t be surprised that he was expressing his interest in that office with Veses. I’d obviously been wrong in my perception of what he’d said about his experience. The way he’d kissed and touched me should’ve been enough evidence that he had quite a bit of skill—skill I was betting Veses also knew all too well. My lip curled—
A shrill shriek of pain stopped me dead in my tracks. I looked up as something winged and silver crashed through the red leaves, plummeting to the ground with a heavy thud. A hawk. It was a large, silver hawk. Another swooped down from above, veering off when it spotted me. I didn’t even know these types of hawks were in Iliseeum, let alone the Shadowlands. I’d only ever caught rare glimpses of them circling the very tips of the Dark Elms.
With wide eyes, I watched the hawk try to lift a clearly broken wing. Red streaked its throat and belly as it flailed on the gray grass. It squawked pitifully, dark talons thrashing and digging into the soil.
What was it with wounded animals and me? How did I always—?
Warmth pulsed in my chest, sudden and intense. The tingling rush of eather flooding my veins followed, stunning me. It was very much like when I was around something that’d died, but this hawk…it was still alive.
Confused, I looked down at my hands as a faint aura appeared, the light flickering softly between my fingers and over my skin. It was just like when I touched Marisol.
But Marisol had been dead.
“What the hell?” I looked over at the hawk as my chest throbbed, and this…urge swept through me. A demand that hummed, driving me forward. I was kneeling beside the hawk before I realized what I was doing. The whites of its eyes were stark as its wild gaze rolled from the sky to me.
The hawk stilled. I knew it was still alive, even though I couldn’t tell if it breathed. It was the gift. It knew. Somehow, I knew the hawk still lived, even though it didn’t strike with talons that could easily tear into my flesh.
Static danced over my hands as the heat gathered in my palms. I didn’t know what was happening, nor did I understand this powerful instinct, but it felt old. Ancient. Just like that dark and oily feeling had when I’d been forced to my knees in front of the statue of Kolis and stared at Tavius. It was undeniable, and there was nothing I could do but obey. I placed a hand on the exposed belly of the hawk, hoping that it remained still.
The hum flared intensely in my chest, and the light around my hands brightened for a heartbeat before the glow swept over the hawk and onto the soil, sparking and crackling as it seeped into and crawled across the ground.
I sucked in a stuttered breath as the hawk twitched, emitting a sharp cry. Panic crowded the edges of my mind. I couldn’t see the hawk under the glow. What if I had done something wrong? What if I killed the bird? If I did, I would never touch another thing—
A coarse, heavy wing straightened and swept down, brushing over my hand. Startled, I jerked back my arm and fell on my ass. The aura receded, and the hawk…
It stood, tentatively lifting both wings. The hawk’s wingspan was enormous, and I thought of the old stories Odetta had told me about these types of birds of prey. How they could pick up small animals and even children. I hadn’t believed her.
Seeing one this close, I now did.
The hawk’s head swiveled toward me. I ensured I made no sudden movements as it eyed me with flat, black eyes full of intelligence. The hawk chirped softly, a staggering call that reminded me of what the draken had done.
Then it took flight.
And I remained there, on my ass, absolutely dumbfounded. My touch… It healed? It had never done that before, but I also hadn’t tried. My stunned gaze fell to my hands as that heady warmth trickled through me, easing the tension in my neck and shoulders. Was my gift changing? Evolving? I didn’t think it had always been like that because I’d been around wounded animals and people before. I hadn’t felt like this when Tavius had been whipping his horse and I intervened, but I could…sense that it still lived. Just like I could sense when something had passed. And what about Odetta? My gift had come alive while she had been sleeping. I had chalked it up to fear igniting it, but maybe I had been wrong. Perhaps my gift had been urging me to heal her? I lowered my hands to the grass, curling them—
The grass.
I looked down. The grass was gray like…like the Rot but soft. I inhaled deeply, recognizing the stale scent of lilacs. My gaze rose, traveling over the thin, wispy weeds that ran along the floor of the Red Woods. The memory of the trees I’d seen when I first entered the Shadowlands formed in my mind. The Dying Woods. Their branches had been gnarled and leafless, and the bark was also gray, a deeper shade of steel, just like these.
Just like those in Lasania infected by the Rot.
“Shit,” I whispered.
How had I not noticed that until now? Was this the Rot? A possible consequence of the deal not being fulfilled? Or was this something else?
A twig snapped, and immediately, I knew it wasn’t Ash or any of his guards. None of them would’ve made a sound. Another crack came, and the smell of stale flowers intensified.
My hand went to where the dagger was sheathed to my thigh as I pushed off the ground and turned around.
The space between the red-leafed trees didn’t look right. I squinted. The shadows there…they were thicker, and they moved forward into the fractured beams of starlight. Dark pants. Waxy skin. Bare skulls and mouths stretched too wide yet stitched closed.