The Broken Forest (4 page)

"I am honored to be trusted with it, my lady. May I take your horse?"

"Yes, thank you. We'll go after the creature. Do not worry for us until two weeks have passed. If I think we'll be longer I'll send word to you. If we do not return after two weeks, send to the capitol and tell them all that has transpired."

"Yes, my lady." Victoria bowed her head, then turned and led the horse away.

Adamina turned to Grete. "Shall we?" Grete nodded, and Adamina led the way down the street in the direction Victoria had pointed. The bakery was easy enough to find, for what other shop would be fronted with a large, costly glass window to display loaves of fresh bread and pastries?

There was a blood trail just visible in the steadily encroaching dark. Adamina followed it into the woods, Grete close behind, though far enough back not to hinder her should a fight come upon them. The smell of blood grew sharper, underscored by the faint scent of rapunzel, leading them along a winding trail through dense forest, further impeded by the tight fist of night.

Drawing to a halt alongside a tree as thick as two stout people, Adamina glanced at Grete. "Do you need light?" Grete shook her head, and motioned to her eyes, which Adamina only then noticed seemed to shine faintly, like moonlight on water. "A spell?"

"It's called 'night sight' and takes quite a bit to cast, but it does have its uses," Grete replied. "One of the first spells my mother taught me. I usually keep it ready to go in one of my charms, so I can use it in a moment." She smiled. "I've never seen a Huntress at work. I thought I could move quietly, but you make me feel like a drunk boar in a glassmaker's shop."

Adamina laughed. "For what it's worth, you have not once proved a hindrance. Normally having people along causes me problems. You have proven to be an asset, if occasionally distracting." She drew a sharp breath through her nostrils as Grete stepped in closer, smelling of sweat and earth and faintly of pumpkin.

"Distracting?" Grete murmured, mouth curving, head tilting back, throat bared as she met Adamina's eyes. "In a good way, Huntress?"

Tearing her eyes away from that long stretch of skin, Adamina admitted, "Yes."

Grete smiled briefly. "Well, as much as I enjoy compliments, best not let that get out of hand, not while there's a monster to hunt." She stepped back and lowered her head. "But later, perhaps?"

Adamina rolled her eyes, own mouth quirking to match Grete's teasing smile. "Later, definitely." She let the smile linger a moment before putting her focus back on the matter at hand, slipping away from the tree and resuming her tracking of the blood trail, the faint hints of rapunzel… that were steadily growing stronger. Interesting. Troubling. "I think we are getting close to its lair." She pressed a finger to her lips and pressed on, carefully drawing her sword, free hand poised to grab, block, or draw a knife as the situation warranted.

After years of being thrown, sunk, choked, levitated, and almost drowned, she
really
should have expected the damned thing to drop down from the trees. But the rustle of leaves registered a heartbeat too late, and Adamina looked up just in time to be knocked to the ground by a bundle of anger, blood, and desperation.

She cried out as teeth bit into her jaw right where it met her neck, fumbled and got her fingers in the creature's hair, yanked its head far enough away to stop the damage of its too-sharp teeth. It snarled at her, mouth wet with blood and snot and spittle, eyes a vibrant, glowing violet. It tried to grab her, couldn't quite reach, spit and blood flying about as it angrily snapped its teeth.

Adamina got a leg free, slammed her knee into the creature, threw it off and rolled to her feet. She stooped to retrieve her sword and brought it up just as the creature slammed into her again. Screaming, she kicked at it and tried to bring the sword slicing up—but it twisted, caught the flat of the blade, and then they were apart again.
Forest heed me. Forest heed me. In the name of the Red and the White Queens, in the name of the Woman of the Hood.

The creature came at her again, teeth and claws bared, eyes glowing bright purple as it too tried to bend the forest to its will. Adamina could feel the forest's confusion, the twisted parts of it that wanted to help the creature it had raised, the broken heart of it that wanted all set to rights.

Something shot up from the ground, and Adamina threw herself to the side, slammed into a tree, looked up just as Grete screamed her name and the creature fell on her, teeth and claws making easy work of her clothes and skin.

From the corner of her eye she could see the black-green vines that had shot up from the ground, the purple-tipped thorns that covered them: sleeping thorns, so called because the poison that filled them could put a person to sleep for anywhere from a few hours to a few days. A sufficient amount of poison would put the victim to sleep eternally.
I am a Huntress, sworn to the forests with the blessing of the Woman of the Hood. Forest, you are bound to me, sworn to obey me. Obey me!

With another long, desperate scream she twisted, slammed the creature into the tree—once, twice, thrice, then dropped it to the ground, drew a knife, and drove it into the creature's throat. Adamina yanked it out and thrust it into the creature's heart.

She felt the brush of leaves against the back of her neck… and then they shuddered, stopped, slowly withdrew. Pulling the knife free, she turned and watched as the sleeping thorns withered up and broke apart on the ground.
Thank the Queens.
Adamina shifted so she could clean the knife—then cried out, dropped the knife to fumble at her side, which seemed to be the greatest source of pain, though now she was aware of it her entire body began to report what seemed dozens of agonies. Her arms, legs, chest, and back were all scratched and bitten; she could feel blood soaking into her clothes, hot and sticky.

Grunting, she tried to stand, but the world was yanked out from under her feet, sending her toppling back—onto something that was definitely not the ground. She blinked up at Grete, who refused to stop being blurry. "I think…"

"Stop talking," Grete said, and laid her gently on the ground. "In fact, go to sleep, Huntress, because I believed you when you said you are a terrible patient."

Laughing weakly, Adamina obediently passed out.

She woke to the smell of soup, or at least soup was her first thought. Wincing slightly, bracing her aching side with one hand, she levered herself up to one elbow and then to a sitting position. They were in a small clearing of green grass and small yellow flowers, more than a little strange for late autumn. A small fire was in the center of the camp, a pot of soup simmering away, filling the clearing with the earthy smell of potatoes and carrots, the fragrant scent of herbs that Adamina was too groggy to sort out.

Of Grete there was no sign, though her pack had served as Adamina's pillow and there was another bedroll nearby, neatly tucked away for the day.

The snap of twigs made Adamina freeze, reached for the sword that had been set next to her—but she relaxed as she saw it was her wolf.
What are you doing up and about?

You were in danger, and the creature not as dead as first believed. The witch helped bring me up to finish the creature and protect you both while you healed.

She's more powerful than I thought.
Adamina was more than a little in awe.

Compatible spirit
, the wolf corrected.

"I see," Adamina replied. That was about as impressive as raw power. Who knew she had a magical complement all the way in the middle of nowhere? Fortunate, to say the least. She sent a silent prayer of thanks to the Sister Queens.

The Receiving of the Reds was the ceremony that granted a Huntress her powers and bound her forever to the forests of the queendom, after her training was complete. The binding granted the ability to control the forests to some degree, commune with the animals, granted permission to use certain blood magics, and enhanced senses and strength in order to properly protect and fight for the forests. The granted power forever changed their eyes to the familiar bright red. They were also gifted their first red tunic and cloak, and permission to wear the color red in all other aspects of their lives. Royalty wore purple, Sorcerers wore blue, Huntresses wore red; no one else in the queendom was allowed to wear the shades worn by those three.

Huntresses were also given their wolves in the ceremony. A piece of the Huntresses soul was sliced away and granted form, to assist and protect and advise. Generally only a Huntress could summon forth her own wolf, though they could also summon each other's in dire circumstances or if they shared a close bond.

For an outsider to manage it required either enormous power, or spiritual energy that was almost exactly like hers—unusual without a family bond—or complementary. So Grete was her magical complement. An ache of longing twisted sharply in Adamina's chest. So much of being a Huntress meant being alone. She had family, and most days that was enough, but she had always wanted a lover, a partner. But Grete being her magical complement did not mean anything except that. Tucking wishful thinking aside, she asked,
Where is Grete?

She said she needed to hunt.

Interesting.
Witches, like Huntresses, did not generally eat meat. They were far too close to nature to be able to stomach it, though there were exceptions among witches. Among Huntresses, it was taboo past dire circumstances. Grete had not struck her as an exception, so she must need the animals for something else, which meant it must tie to the creatures and the rapunzel.
You seem to have recovered. I'm glad. I hope I have not worried you too much.

You were worse off after that warlock was done with you,
the wolf replied, padding across the camp to lick her face before settling down beside her. The wolf's tongue lolled in approval when Adamina began to stroke fingers through her fur.
Lucky for you the witch was about, or it may have turned out much worse.

Father always said I inherited mother's propensity for trouble and scaring the life out of him.
She looked up at the sound of rustling, reaching out to grasp her sword again… and withdrew it as Grete came into view. "Greetings," she called out, lifting a hand.

Grete broke into a smile. "I should have known you'd wake sooner than anticipated. You really are as terrible a patient as you said."

Adamina laughed. "Did you have to sedate me? That's what my mother always did. Still would do, were I ever home for her to be the one stuck healing me."

"I did, in fact," Grete replied, and set a dead rabbit and pheasant aside before crossing over to sit beside Adamina. "Lay down, let me look you over."

"Yes, mistress."

Grete snorted softly at the playful words, gently pulling away the blanket still draped over Adamina. Bandages were wrapped low around Adamina's flat chest, padding thick over the wound along the right side of her rib cage and just curving to her side. "You're lucky these didn't go deeper." Grete pulled the bandages away, humming and clucking in a way that seemed the habit of every healer Adamina had ever met. "I had to do quite a bit to get you to heal up enough that you wouldn't be in bed for weeks, but these stiches will still need to stay in a couple more days. Sit up so I can change the bandages."

"That soup smells wonderful." Adamina slowly sat up, wincing slightly, and raised her arms to let Grete work more easily. Adamina's eyes watered at the smell of the strong ointment generously slathered on the wounds. She sighed at the new set of scars she was going to have. "It's a good thing I did not go with my first childhood ambition; I would be a veritable beast in the woods."

"What in the Great Queens are you talking about?" Grete finished smearing the ointment and picked up fresh bandages, shooting her a puzzled look before bending to her work.

Adamina's mouth quirked. "When I was little I vowed I would become a fairy and run naked through the woods all day. My mother says it was the first time she suspected I was destined to wear red, but at the time I just hated being stuffed into dresses and breeches I wasn't allowed to get dirty. I fear if I had pursued that course, I would be less a fairy and more a terror."

Grete laughed but didn't look up as she finished her work. "Maybe you're a changeling who managed to escape the clutches of the dark fairies. There, all set." She looped an arm around Adamina's back and helped her stand. "Steady?"

"Yes, thank you," Adamina said, catching Grete's arm and squeezing it. "Without you I would be dead, and my family would be receiving the terrible news over the winter festivities. I'm in your debt."

Grete smiled and leaned in to kiss her cheek, lips warm and soft, the scent of sweat and smoke and herbs clinging to her. "No thanks necessary, Huntress. I'm sure the lives you've saved cannot be counted, and if those creatures had ever escaped this broken forest it would not have taken them long to come for me. I am glad I was able to summon your wolf, though, else we might both be dead right now." She drew back slightly, still close enough they shared breaths. "So I think we shall call the entire matter even?"

"Even," Adamina agreed, and leaned in to press a fleeting kiss to the corner of Grete's mouth, heart thudding until she drew back and saw the pleased curve to her lips. "Since I doubt my lovely healer will let me do what I want right now, shall we have that soup?"

"I think food is your real goal," Grete retorted, but was still smiling as she turned away to fill two tin mugs with the mouth-watering soup. Adamina sat down on an old, mossy log that had clearly been dragged into camp for that purpose, picking up the waterskin leaning against it. The water tasted faintly of what witches called purity flowers, because they could eradicate many of the contaminants in dubious water sources, though it unfortunately did not work on something as powerful as rapunzel.

She took the soup as Grete held it out, making soft noises of approval as she took slow, careful sips. "This is delicious. I couldn't make soup half this good in a royal kitchen."