The Broken Forest (2 page)

"You were right to hold your tongue," Adamina replied, thinking of all the witch burnings born of panic and desperation. Magic, the problems it caused, and fear of it had finally driven the previous Red and White Queens to pass a law requiring all those who possess the ability to practice magic to register with the crown, and either pursue the practice under the watch of the crown or have their magic sealed away to live as a non-magic person.

Nearly everyone with the potential chose to have their magic sealed away. Those who were permitted to practice magic were few: the Sorcerers, the Huntresses, and a small amount of independent witches who dwindled in number every year. Frustrating, both because of the superstition that made her job more difficult, and the fewer the witches to solve small, local problems, the more problems put upon the Huntresses and Sorcerers, and there were never enough to solve problems as quickly as everyone would like.

Hence her exhaustion and desperate need for a break. But the people were more important than spending a few days dozing and fishing. Being lazy could wait. Dying women and children could not.

"Thank you." Adamina tucked the slip of paper away as she stood. "Blessing of the White upon your house."

"Strength of the Red on your journey," Peter replied, and walked her to the door. She waited until she heard it lock, then headed back to the inn.

In her room, Adamina used the warm water to clean her face and hands, then bundled up in her cloak on the bed and closed her eyes. She curled her fingers around the pendant hanging from a short, black leather cord around her neck: a wolf head carved from the bone of a wolf that had died of natural causes. It was almost hot to the touch, the magic panting hot and heavy in her ear with impatience for the hunt. "Tomorrow," she whispered, and fell into a dreamless sleep.

The soft growl of impatient magic stirred her as the gray haze of sunrise slipped through the cracks and seams of the walls. Adamina yawned, rolled over onto her back in bed and stretching with a long groan. Work, work, work. Nine months she had been gone from the palace, and most days it felt a good deal longer than that. Some days it felt like she would never see home again.

After rolling out of bed, she splashed water on her face to banish remaining grogginess. Once downstairs, she snagged a hot ale and fresh bread with honey from the kitchens before heading out into the cold, foggy morning. She had finished eating by the time she reached the stable, ducking inside just long enough to see her horse was doing well and to fetch her crossbow, arrows, and a bag of foodstuffs. A few villagers were out, fetching water and dumping waste buckets, whispering in little groups until they saw her and scattered like birds.

The broken whispers of the forest beckoned and at her throat magic chafed to be set free. Adamina ventured as close as she dared, stopping right at the edge of the tree line. Drawing the knife at her left hip, she slit her palm and pressed it to the trunk of the nearest tree. "Forest, I request permission to enter here, to have domain here, until the evil is cleansed and you've no further use of me."

The forest's reply was slow, fractured.
Enter—Huntress—Queens—Protect.
The power behind the words was strong and true, at least, and Adamina entered unchallenged, her own power pouring down into the forest floor like roots, merging with the forest itself.
Enter Daughter of the Huntress Moon, in the names of the Sister Queens who united all and protect us still.

A howl pulsed in Adamina's blood as she caught the scent of something that did not belong: rotten magic, human blood at least a few days old, underscored by a stench of fear so strong it coated her tongue like oil. Reaching up, she removed the necklace from around her throat, letting it dangle from her blood-sticky fingers.

Blood coated the pendant, shimmered, faded, and turned the bone the rust-brown of old blood. Magic dripped from the pendant, began to trickle, shimmering faintly as it did so. The trickles moved like vines to spread and fan, twine and curve and bend into the shape of an enormous wolf. It glowed with brilliant red light, and as it faded a wolf the color of dirt and old blood stood at Adamina's side, standing as high as her hip.

She combed her fingers through the wolf's fur.
Ready to hunt?
The wolf growled in reply.
Then go. Bring down the monster murdering women and children and polluting a broken wood that wants only to be left in peace.
The wolf nudged her hand, brushed against her thigh, and then took off into the woods.

Adamina jogged after her, casting most of her attention across the forest, feeling pain and fear, scars and open wounds. Broken magic left a sour tang, twisted magic was smoky and rotted, and over all of it was the damp smell of earth and the musty scent of falling leaves. Winter chill crept over autumn briskness, driving frightened animals further into their dens or higher into their trees as they wondered if they could survive ice and monster both.

The taste of fear abruptly increased right before she heard the wolf howl for her. Adamina ran as quickly as was possible in a dense forest. She jumped a brook, darted up a hill, and back down it, threading through the trees, until she came to a small clearing where her wolf fought viciously against…

Something that might have been human once, though it was impossible to say for certain. Its skin was sickly white between mud and the vines that grew around and even through it. The creature hissed and spat and yowled like a beast, fought the wolf with long teeth and claws where its nails should have been.

The wolf howled, whined as the claws sank deep, but it twisted in the creature's hold and got a grip on its throat, crushing the bones, and ripping the flesh out. Snarling, the wolf examined the body carefully before withdrawing with a soft growl.
Bad smell. Madness. Lingering curse. Rage. There is another… and it is stronger.

Adamina made a face and drew a small sack from the pouch at her waist. Filling her hand with salt, she scattered it over the creature's corpse, reciting prayers for peace and purification—and was not surprised when the salt burst into tiny points of black flame and smeared like blood over the corpse.
I'd say the curse is more than lingering, and it feeds itself. I think the creature is both curse and victim of it. What is that smell? It's familiar…

She tucked the salt away and pulled out a small green glass bottle. Pouring the viscous contents over the corpse, Adamina softly chanted the words of a slower, more complicated prayer. As she finished speaking, the liquid spread over the body and with a soft shimmer of magic turned it to stone. Kneeling, Adamina tangled her fingers in the undergrowth, eyes closing as she silently communicated with the forest. After a few minutes, dark green vines with bright red flowers rose slowly up from the ground and began to wrap around the stone figure, hiding it from the world.

Rising, Adamina looked around the rest of the clearing, trying to find the source of the bitter, salty smell that did not seem to be fading. Something about it nagged at her.
What is that smell?

I do not know.
The wolf helped explore the clearing, shoving her nose into every nook and crevice—and finally sneezing so loud that the birds in the trees above scattered with angry caws.
Here.

Adamina crossed the clearing and knelt beside the wolf, frowned at the small, spiny leaf she nosed. "This…" It was familiar; the image of a sketch in a book flickered in her mind. Reaching into the large pouch worn at the back of her heavy belt, she pulled out a small, battered book given to her long ago by her mother. The front of it was plain save for where the image of a sleeping rose had once been embossed in gold, only a faint impression of it remaining. Opening it, she flipped through page after page of plants and flowers until she found the spine-edged leaf.

"Oh, hell and damnation. It's rapunzel. Who in the name of the name of the Great Queens brought rapunzel into these woods?" She closed the book and stowed it, then pulled a pair of wooden tweezers from another pouch and gingerly picked up the leaf, wrapping it in a piece of cloth before stowing both items. "That would explain the madness of the poor creature. A child abandoned in the woods, perhaps? Consumed too much rapunzel, and if it had magic… It's been feeding on the villagers to try and stabilize that magic, fix it. Poor thing, it was damned the moment it started eating the rapunzel."

They. There is another, and this one was the weaker of the two.

"Two children abandoned in the woods… feeding on rapunzel… I fear there is more to the story and it will not make good hearing." She looked out over the woods.
I think we need a witch.

The wolf nudged against Adamina's thigh, then rested heavily against her.
Yes.

Adamina sighed. "I am going to leave you to guard the village. Do not do anything stupid while I am gone. I will return with a witch as quickly as possible. I believe there was one only a day's travel or so away." An independent witch, but hiring her would be faster than calling for, and waiting on, a Sorcerer. "Let's get back to the village."

By the time they reached it, most of the fog had dissipated, leaving only a swirling mist that lent a sleepy quality. More people milled about, watching her as she returned to the inn, pointing and whispering at the wolf.

The innkeeper greeted them as they stopped in front of the inn. "Back already?" she asked.

Adamina shook her head. "A problem has arisen that requires a witch. While I am gone, I am giving you my wolf to guard the village until I return. Let me have your hand, if you do not mind." Victoria nodded and placed her hand in the one Adamina held out. Covering it with her other, Adamina said, "Until I return, my wolf is yours. Heed her and all will be well."

"Yes, my lady," Victoria replied, looking dazed as the wolf left Adamina's side to lean against her, tongue lolling.

Adamina smiled and ruffled the wolf's head in parting, then headed around through the gate to the stables.

It took her until just before dusk to reach the place where she had smelled a witch while riding hard toward Edge Village. Dismounting, she approached the tree line a few steps away from the road. Magic whispered over her skin, and then she was through the magic barrier that had been erected. Nothing harmful, else she would have noticed sooner. Probably just to warn the witch that someone was approaching.

A narrow path wended through the woods, easy to miss between two large, old oak trees. It eventually ran parallel with a large stream. She traveled up a hill and spilled into a large clearing filled with high grass and a smattering of insects that had not yet succumbed to the chill of coming winter. A cottage half-covered in candy flowers, so called for their round petals and bright myriad colors, occupied the far end of the clearing. A little pond was on the east side of it, and there was a small stable with an ass grazing nearby on the west side. The door had been cut into the west end of the front wall, a large window next to it, currently covered with heavy shutters.

Smoke curled from the chimney, carrying the scent of roasting pumpkin. Adamina's stomach growled and homesickness swept over her. She thought of the winter celebrations she was going to miss, how much she would like to see her parents and siblings, how long it had been since she had seen them.

Adamina led her horse to the stream, left it there to do as it pleased. The creaking of a door drew her attention, and she turned with a greeting on her lips. She forgot the words entirely as she stared at the witch, cock twitching in her breeches in a way it hadn't for a long time. Of late, Adamina was too tired, too busy, or too wrung out to be moved by anyone.

The witch was beautiful. She looked a few years older than Adamina's twenty-eight. She had long, curly, springy dark brown hair slightly touched with autumn red, parts of it woven into braids threaded with wooden charms that clinked when she moved, and light, yellow-brown skin heavily covered with freckles. Her faded blue dress was patched with squares of green and white in places, and the sleeves had been rolled up past her elbows. It was mostly covered with a cream-colored apron smeared with stains of various colors and spots of water. She held a large basket at her hip, filled with jars, and her skin was shiny with sweat. Smiling, the witch said, "Good evening, Huntress. If you'll give me just a moment to stow these jars in the cellar, I'll be more than happy to have you for dinner."

"Take your time, please," Adamina watched her go, unable to tear her eyes away. Oh, how she wished the witch wanted to have her for dinner.

Snorting at her own thoughts, she took the reins back up and led her horse closer to the stable, removed all the equipment and got it cleaned up and into a stall with food by the time the witch returned. Waving a hand at her horse, she said, "I will compensate you for the use of your stable and food. I apologize for troubling you unexpectedly."

Laughing, the witch beckoned Adamina to follow her into the house. "No one ever sends a witch an announcement they are coming, Huntress. I never mind receiving one of the Queen's finest. Please, make yourself comfortable. I've some pumpkin soup on if you're inclined to eat."

"I am always inclined to eat," Adamina replied, sitting down at the large table in front of the fire that took up most of the room in the little cabin. It was still scattered and messy with the remains of what had clearly been a long day canning various foods. At a glance, the witch had prepared apples, beets, cranberries, carrots, and pears. Adamina could also see pumpkin and a bin of potatoes, and all manner of herbs hung from the rafters. Not just a witch, but a successful one.

With hazel eyes, freckles across her broad, flat nose, and the prettiest smile.

Adamina tried to bring her thoughts back to where they should be, murmuring a heart-felt thanks as a bowl of fragrant pumpkin soup was set in front of her alongside a cup of cider. The witch's hand paused around the cup; Adamina looked up, tilted her head. "Is something wrong?"

"Your wolf pendant is missing, my lady. Are you well?"