The Sleeping King (50 page)

“This is a mistake, I tell you,” Cicero muttered. “Handing ourselves over to these sorceresses is madness.”

“Relax and enjoy the moment, man,” Kendrick replied, busking Cicero on the shoulder. “They're beautiful and like us. Enjoy their charms a little. It would be an insult not to.”

Rosana rolled her eyes. “Just because a pretty lady offers you poison candy doesn't mean you ought to eat it.”

“Exactly,” Cicero agreed fervently.

The good-natured bickering continued as the dryads laid and lit a fire, produced a metal spit, and commenced roasting a delicious-smelling cut of meat. Will recognized the scent of venison. His mouth watered in anticipation.

He studied the faerie creatures surreptitiously. They appeared young and as inhumanly beautiful as the hearth tales described. They dressed in brief green skirts made of what looked like leaves. Their upper bodies were adorned only with lush garlands of ivy and flowers. Tantalizing glimpses of the curves of their breasts riveted his attention.

Cicero made a sound of disgust. “Do not make eye contact with them, human. They will ensorcel you in seconds.”

Will looked over his shoulder at the elf, who still gazed steadfastly at his toes. “Really? I thought their effect on men was only the stuff of bedtime stories.”

“We
are
the stuff of bedtime stories, you gorgeous young thing,” one of them cooed.

“For pity's sake,” Rosana grumbled. “Do they charm women as well, Cicero?”

“Nay. Just males. It is satyrs that women must worry about.”

Will noticed Sha'Li grinning like a well-fed cat. Suspicion blossomed in his gut. “Are these dryads dangerous?” he asked bluntly.

As soon as the question came out of his mouth the answer bubbled up from somewhere deep in his mind. The dryads would not attack unless attacked. They could be exceedingly dangerous in a fight because of their ability to enslave males to their will. But in and of themselves, they posed little risk. Knowledge rose unbidden in his mind that the tree a being was bound to helped shaped their spirit, and rowan trees imbued a spirit with peace, idealism, and a drive to defend against the storm and evil magics. However, dryads were not above toying with males and amused themselves by charming men into being their love slaves.

How he knew all that he had no idea. But he was certain of the knowledge. Mayhap the other spirit inside him was whispering to him somehow.

Or mayhap he was losing his mind. No one in the Heart had uttered the word “possession” when High Matriarch Lenora announced that a second spirit was trapped within Will, but the possibility of it had hung heavy in the air. And Rosana
had
been adamant about coming with him on this journey. Was she here to keep an eye on him? To take action against him if he should prove to be possessed? Would she kill him if it came to it?

Cicero snorted. “Depends on who you talk to whether or not they think dryads are dangerous. The women of my clan think they're deadly.”

This made the dryads laugh with a trilling, dove-like noise.

“Come share our fire, my lovely young warrior,” one of them said to Will. She sidled close to him, trailing an impossibly soft hand across his cheek. As she pressed her body against the length of his, he started when her knee lifted gently, her inner thigh caressing the front of his leg.

Rosana cleared her throat. “With all due respect, ladies, he is not exactly yours to crawl over.”

One of the green nymphs shot a glare in the gypsy girl's direction. “He is yours, then? Bound to you by sacred vows?”

“Well, no—”

More laughter. “Then he's certainly free to play with us again, you silly human.”

Rosana flared up, “Leave him alone.”

“Temper, temper,” one of them taunted lightly.

What did she mean, “play with us again”? he opened his mouth to ask, but looked up sharply at the sound of some sort of commotion just beyond the ring of rowan trees. That sounded like soldiers. He motioned urgently for silence and the male members of their party edged toward the shadows, weapons drawn.

He caught snatches of the whispered argument between Anton's men.

“… know that place. It's Hawksong Grove. Haunted it be.”

“…'taint haunted. Fae infested, it be.”

“… Dryads in there?… Ain't getting paid enough to tangle with them green witches.…”

“… can't go in there.”

“…
won't
go in there!”

“… they's gotta come out sometime … assuming them witches don't kill 'em all. I say we wait.…”

Kendrick motioned Will and the others away from the margin of the clearing and back to the fire. The younger Hyland announced, “We're safe so long as we stay in here. But Anton's entire army could surround the grove and we would never get out.” He didn't sound too broken up over that prospect. Will rolled his eyes.

Eben commented in his baritone hum, “We eat and rest, and leave under cover of darkness, then?”

“The sooner the better,” Cicero responded. He glared at Kendrick and added, “And no looking at them. We'll never get you out of here if they manage to charm you more deeply. Understood?”

Kendrick sighed. “But they're so pretty. And so friendly. We must stay and protect them!”

Cicero groaned and Will echoed the sentiment.

“No dalliances,” Eben declared. “Marikeen is missing, and I've got to get this blasted mark off my face.” A pause. Then he added more uncertainly, “But they are lovely, are they not? And frail. They could use some decent warriors to protect them from Anton and his men…” His voice trailed off as one of the dryads all but climbed his big body and commenced whispering in her ear.

“Agreed,” Kendrick declared. “We will stay and protect the dryads from Anton's men.”

Cicero traded significant looks with Will, who nodded back grimly. The two of them were agreed. When it came time to leave, they would knock Kendrick out if they had to.

The four of them headed back to the fire. As the party seated itself on logs rolled into a circle around the blaze, Will risked glancing at the dryads. Their skin undulated in hue even as he watched from a pale mint color to the rich emerald of summer leaves. He couldn't really tell them apart, so regular and similar were their facial features.

One of them slid closer to Cicero on his log, and Will noted with amusement that a fine sheen of perspiration had broken out upon the elf's brow as he struggled to keep his eyes off the creature now practically sitting in his lap. For Will's part, two dryads wasted no time cuddling up to him and making cozy.

“Mmm, you're warm.”

“Oooh, strong muscles. Hard and bold.”

A soft hand raked through his hair.

As Kendrick and Eben flirted back freely with the creatures, clearly lost in whatever spell the dryads had placed upon them, Will frowned. While these sprites were certainly easy on the eye, he found himself unimpressed with their aggressive flirting. He reached up to gently disentangle one of them from around his neck. “Sorry, ladies. Not interested.”

The one who did most of the talking reared back. “You do not like females?”

Sha'Li snorted with laughter, and Rosana and Raina grinned broadly.

“I like girls just fine, thank you very much.”

“Then why are you not interested in me? Am I ugly? Do I repel you in some way?” The dryad seemed genuinely distressed that he wasn't falling all over himself to become her plaything. Will glanced up at her, then realized his mistake. Her emerald green eyes pierced into his, capturing his gaze and holding it as power poured forth from her.

Will frowned. Looked away from her and over at Cicero. “You okay, buddy?” he asked the elf.

Cicero had his eyes tightly squeezed shut now, and sweat poured down his face. “Must … not … look…,” the kindari gritted out from between clenched teeth.

Will looked back at the dryads draped all over him. What was the big deal? This time he looked directly at the females. Both of them frowned in concentration, obviously doing their best to do whatever it was they did to most men.

He shrugged. Grinned apologetically. “Sorry, ladies. You are very attractive, and I appreciate your interest. But I've had a long day and I could use some sleep. If you don't mind, it looks like my friends have had about all they can take, too.”

All three dryads froze, staring in shock. He stared back at them, perplexed by how confounded they seemed.

“Who are you?” one of them whispered.

“I am Will. Uhh, Will Cobb.”

“You are well named. Will, indeed,” another murmured.

The one who appeared to be the leader of the pack stared at him long and hard. Finally, she said soberly, “I know not who or what you are, young human. But I will tell you this—and it comes from a servant of the Green Lady herself, so I speak truth. Someone dangerous comes this way. And he comes for you, strange human.”

That was the second time someone had told him that. Will snorted. “So what's new?”

The dryad stared at him intently, not as if trying to control his mind but as if willing him to take her seriously.

“All right. Fine,” he replied to her unspoken demand, “I believe you. I will have a care for my safety.”

She nodded, relieved.

“Do you know who comes for me, then?” he asked her.

“Nay. I only know the message I was given. Safe travels unto you strange human.” As one, the dryads rose gracefully, stepped up to the nearest tree trunks, and disappeared into them. Just melted right into the solid wood.

Will stared. “Did they just—”

“Tree walk,” Eben replied, relief that the creatures had left palpable in his voice. “They move from tree to tree that way. They're forest spirits.”

Will jolted. The world as he knew it shifted upon its axis. He'd heard stories of tree walkers but had always guffawed at the tales, knowing them to be pure fiction. But if dryads truly did exist … what other legends and fairy tales of his childhood might also be true?

Like stories of long-ago kings sleeping in wait for a time when they would be needed once more. Until now, his father's quest had been a hypothetical thing. He had been going through the motions out of respect for his parents' memories. But of a sudden it hit him: What if their quest was
real
? What if a king did exist with the power to throw off the yoke of Koth?

And of more immediate concern, what other magical or fantastic creatures were out here lurking in the forest? He glanced at the ancient rowans around him, suddenly feeling like a stranger in a strange land. What else didn't he know about these woods … or about the wider world?

*   *   *

Raina was too keyed up after the bandit attack to sleep for the remainder of the night. Which was why, deep in the night, she heard Kendrick creep away from his bed and one of the dryads emerging from her tree quietly coo in greeting. Raina rolled her eyes and stuffed her fingers in her ears.

She woke a little before the gray of dawn, and while Cicero scouted out the locations of Anton's men the others quietly broke camp. Whatever hold over Kendrick and Eben the dryads had before, it appeared to have been released. Likewise, if their pursuers had posted any guards in the night, they were all sleeping like babes, now. Whether from lack of discipline among them or the machinations of their dryad hostesses, she could not tell. Either way, she was deeply relieved that they would not have to fight their way out of the grove.

The party slipped quietly from the grove and Cicero led them around the sleeping bandits or soldiers or whatever their attackers had been. The dryads did not make another appearance, for which the male members of their group seemed relieved.

That annoying lizardman girl insisted on tagging along. Something about not leaving until Will handed over that wooden disk of his to her. Raina wished he could just do it and get rid of the surly female. But no such luck.

Their odd little party set out, everyone watching everyone else with veiled suspicion to one degree or another. Not exactly an auspicious start for this journey of theirs. Rosana was furious with Sha'Li for attacking Will. Will was angry at the lizardman girl on Rosana's behalf. Eben was angry at Kendrick for dallying with the dryads, Kendrick was angry at Eben for being angry, and Sha'Li was angry at everyone, it seemed.

They trudged along, mostly silent through the morning, for which Raina was grateful. It was better than the bickering her brothers—her half brothers, she corrected herself bitterly—would have engaged in under the same circumstances.

They stopped for lunch, and the conversation turned to what threat the dryads might have been trying to warn Will of the previous night. The consensus was that a superpowerful dryad who could command Will's mind was en route to restore the dryads' reputations. For some reason, she and the other girls in the party found the whole notion much funnier than the fellows did.

The party was less tense through the afternoon, but quiet as fatigue set in. Not long after they'd started looking for a likely spot to stop for the night, Cicero abruptly called a halt, studied what looked like some random scratches on a tree, and, without explanation, plunged into the trees. He returned a few minutes later, grinning widely.

“What?” she demanded.

“Follow me. We will sleep safe from Anton's soldiers this night,” he declared.

Perplexed, she and the others followed him off the path and into heavy woods. The trees were huge here. Old-growth forest. Somehow, this stretch of timber had escaped the ravages of the Forester's Guild.

They picked their way through dangerous tree roots and thick brambles for several minutes. Without warning, a half-dozen elves dropped out of the trees around them. Raina noticed intricate russet-colored swirls decorating their faces.
Kindari.
Cicero must have seen their sign along the margins of the road.