26

Red

red raced through the Forest of Thorns, kicking up clouds of black dust under her pounding boots. Cinzel ranged ahead of her, while Perrin followed close behind, his footsteps a comforting presence at her back. The twisted branches closed in around them at every turn, razor thorns dangling over their heads like vicious snares. It only got darker the deeper they went.

When they had first plunged into the forest, Red was almost flying, exhilarated by the kiss with Shane and all it promised. Her lips had been tingling, her stomach churning with butterflies, and her heart overflowing with that sweet, infectious hope Shane always gave her. But the Forest of Thorns had sucked that heady feeling away. Maybe it was the way the sinister thorns jutted out at every turn, or maybe it was the feeling of being caged inside a crisscross of dark boughs that reminded her so much of the Wraith’s nightmare. Maybe it was just that Red knew what was waiting for her.

She twisted her head around, searching for the calcified white oak tree that would be her next signpost. She had grown up here—she knew every dark corner of it. But somehow it was like a different forest. She and Perrin passed through hollows and archways that she remembered perfectly, only to find themselves facing impenetrable walls of brambles. Again and again, they were forced to turn back and find another route. The Forest of Thorns didn’t grow exactly, but it did shift, some areas becoming denser while others tore themselves to pieces. Red had never realized until this moment how much she counted on Shadow and the monster wolves to cut paths directly through the thorns.

She shoved thoughts of the white wolf away. Not yet.

She still had Cinzel’s help. He hurried on ahead, sometimes wriggling under a wall of thorns that Red and Perrin could never hope to pass. But he always returned soon after, his soft belly fur dark with ashen dust, to lead them through another passage. Red hated those moments of silence waiting for him to come back. She didn’t want to be separated from Cinzel—not here.

Red motioned for Perrin to slow down as they came to a dense cluster of thorns. A dark passage led into it, almost like a tunnel. Cinzel had stopped at the entrance, pawing at the ground and whining.

“Are we lost?” Perrin asked, rubbing his sleeve over his face. “Do we need to double back?” He looked a little worse for wear, his clothing ripped and sweat running down his neck. One spike had caught him at the shoulder and sliced a jagged hole in his blue jacket, the torn fabric stained crimson.

Red wasn’t doing much better. Forging a path had left angry welts over the backs of her hands and up her arms. She had a deep cut in her leg, bleeding sluggishly, where a thorn had seemed to leap out of nowhere, gouging her. She got the distinct impression she was no longer welcome in this place.

“We’re not lost,” Red said. “In fact, we’re close. This passageway will take us almost all the way to Briar Rose’s tower.”

Red knew that because Shane and Briar Rose and Fi had once escaped her using this very passage. She shivered recalling the battle between the dark twisting thorns. They felt like someone else’s memories or a horrible dream that she’d finally woken from. But it wasn’t a dream. It had been Red’s whistles commanding the wolves, Red’s bargain with the Spindle Witch binding Shadow to a cursed half life. She couldn’t run from that.

If Shadow and the other wolves truly belonged to the Spindle Witch, then Red wouldn’t be able to command them anymore. But if, as she had begun to suspect, it was her own magic that had bent the creatures to her will, they would still do as she said.

“Red, you okay?”

Red blinked. Perrin was looking at her strangely, and Cinzel was circling her, nudging her hip. Red cleared her throat.

“Just trying to remember the way,” she muttered, ducking into the tunnel. Perrin didn’t look like he believed her, but he followed anyway, forced to bend over to keep from raking his head across the low ceiling. Cinzel wound through her legs, nearly tripping her. With every twist and turn, the light got dimmer until it was almost a complete blackout, only a few bright pinpricks speckling the ground.

Red didn’t stop. She didn’t want to give herself any more time to think about Shadow—or what she might have to do.

She navigated one step at a time, covering her hand with her sleeve and waving her arm through the blackness to make sure she wasn’t about to run herself into the razor thorns. She felt Perrin’s hand on her shoulder. Cinzel was somewhere ahead, his low call leading her on. Then she turned one last corner, and the glowing exit was right ahead of her. Cinzel darted out into the sunlight, shaking himself off. Red hurried gratefully after him. Perrin sighed and released her shoulder.

“A little too cozy for me,” he admitted, rubbing his sore neck. But his face wore that familiar grin, and Red couldn’t help smiling back. She could do this. She could get Perrin to the castle—

A howl broke through the dense thorns, long and mournful and achingly familiar.

Shadow.

Red froze. Cinzel’s ears perked up. He padded to the edge of the clearing, tail softly wagging.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Perrin said, catching Red’s arm. “We should get out of here.”

Red couldn’t speak. Her eyes were locked on the forest, waiting for the answering howls from the rest of the pack. It took a beat before the first one started, joined by another and then another, the eerie strains of all their voices echoing. The full pack was still a ways away, but Red knew they would be barreling through the thorns, heading right for her.

Shadow’s howl had been closer. She could hear him now, the crunch of jaws snapping, the branches breaking with a sound like splintering bone. He was just beyond them in the trees, his yellow eyes gleaming with fury.

Red clutched her heart, forcing herself to stand her ground. The only way to live with it is to make it right. Shadow deserved that, no matter what it cost her.

“We’ve got to move!” Perrin warned, tugging at her.

Red shook him off. “There.” She pointed to the space between two twisted masses of vines. “The castle’s that way, and not far—don’t stray in the wrong direction and I’m sure you’ll make it.”

“I’m sure I’ll make it, too,” Perrin agreed. “Because you’ll be right there guiding me.”

The branches trembled as the white wolf drew near, pounding through the dust. He was too close to outrun now—and Red had to know. She had to know if she had bent the wolf to her will, if she had truly been one of the Spindle Witch’s monsters.

“Just go!” she said, shoving Perrin and making him stumble back. “Everyone’s counting on you. There’s something I have to do. Please!”

Perrin took a few hesitant steps toward the opening, clearly torn, before cursing and ducking inside. Then Shadow exploded through the undergrowth, thorns and bits of vine flying in all directions. His long claws raked through the dust as he skidded around to face Red.

He was just as she’d remembered him: as tall as she was, rippling with fury, the sickening twist of his spine rising from his coarse white fur. Cinzel yipped happily at the sight of his brother. Then whined, dropping to his belly as the great white wolf growled, his lips curled back around yellow fangs.

“I know,” Red said softly, when Cinzel looked at her in confusion. “Leave him to me.”

Perrin was on his way. Soon, he’d be scaling the roses on the castle wall and breaking the sleeping curse inside. That would make this a victory no matter what happened to Red.

Shadow stalked across the clearing, and Cinzel slunk back before him, his tail tucked under his legs. Red held her ground. She brought her fingers up to her lips, sucking in a breath. She let out an earsplitting whistle, commanding the creature as she had for so many years.

Shadow kept advancing. Red’s stomach lurched, but she raised her head defiantly, calling on every ounce of her magic—the magic of the Snake Witch. “Stop,” she ordered the beast.

Shadow lunged, his enormous jaws aimed at her neck.

Red’s eyes widened in shock. She had been sure—so sure that she could control the beasts, but Shadow hadn’t listened. She had no power over him.

All she felt was relief. If she didn’t have the power now, she never had. Shadow and the others had obeyed the magic of the Spindle Witch, of the thorn rod. Red was just another pawn—just a girl, and not a monster. She squeezed her eyes shut, silently apologizing to Shane for dying so foolishly just when things were getting good.

“Red!”

Her eyes sprang open just in time to see Perrin leap in front of her. He had grabbed one of the splintered branches from the ground, wielding it like a club, and he smashed it against the great wolf’s head. The branch shattered against Shadow’s heavy skull, throwing him back. Perrin’s hands were bloody from gripping the branch. He tossed the broken club away, seizing Red’s wrist and racing for the gap in the thorns.

“Perrin—” Red gasped.

“Friends don’t abandon each other. Not to mention, our club can’t really afford to lose any members.” He pushed her ahead of him as he spoke, urging her to take the lead.

Shadow was getting up already, shaking his head. Cinzel growled at his brother, baring his teeth and then loping away.

Red didn’t stop to look back. She seized Perrin’s hand and dragged him into the thicket, banking down a spiraling side passage so narrow it seemed like the thorns would rip them apart.

Shadow crashed into the thorns behind them. Red ran as fast as she could. She slipped out under a bristling archway with Perrin and Cinzel right behind her, and suddenly she knew exactly where they were.

The gray husk of the carriage house loomed to her right. The giant pillars of twisting vines were getting thinner, the river whispering through the trees. She could see the white stone tower through the cage of the black forest. They were so close!

Shadow surged out of the brambles in front of her, and Red screamed. The white wolf bunched his muscles, ready to spring. But it was Cinzel who leapt first, his mottled fur bristling as he sank his teeth into Shadow’s neck. The white wolf snarled, knocking the smaller wolf away with one enormous paw. Cinzel skidded into the dirt.

“Cinzel!” Red shouted desperately as Perrin dragged her toward the castle.

Cinzel scrambled up as Shadow’s long teeth closed over the space his brother had just been. The smaller wolf raced after them. Shadow sat back on his haunches, a bloodless gouge matting his fur. He let out one long howl that made Red’s blood run cold.

Red was side by side with Perrin now, trying to keep up with the boy’s longer strides as they raced for the tower. The spill of roses down the white stones shone like rubies in the morning light. Red’s heart leapt as they splashed through a shallow eddy of the river. The warm water seemed to surge up to embrace her, washing away the sting of the thorns.

Then three howls rose one after the other. Shadow’s pack was right on top of them. Red darted a look at Cinzel. He was keeping pace, but she could see he was limping hard, favoring his back leg. She and Perrin could scramble up the roses, but it would mean leaving a defenseless Cinzel at the mercy of the pack.

Never.

She skidded to a stop, turning to face the forest.

“You have to go, Perrin,” she said, as the monster wolves broke through the thorns. In a minute, they’d be surrounded.

“Red!” Perrin protested.

She grabbed his arm, pulling him down so they were face-to-face. “Friends don’t abandon each other, remember? Cinzel and Shadow need me. And all of Andar needs you.” She dredged up a smile. “Good luck, Dream Witch.” Then she shoved him away.

“You too, Red,” he said quietly.

Red didn’t turn around to watch him climb. She didn’t want him to see the tears in her eyes.

In truth, Red had never really had any friends before. But she liked Perrin, with his kind smile and easy, contagious laugh, and she liked the Paper Witch, with his seemingly endless patience. She even liked Fi, though she’d only known the girl a short while. And she loved Shane, more than she had ever thought possible. She had never had anything to miss before, but now she was going to miss it all so much.

The dark knot of fear and guilt inside her was slowly unraveling. Shadow hadn’t sacrificed himself to save Red because she had forced him to with her magic. He had done it for the same reason Red was standing here now. To protect someone she loved.

The first of the wolves bounded forward, leaping the river and coming straight at her. Dark claws sliced the air as Red threw herself aside. She snatched a rock and pelted it into the monster’s flank. A second later, Cinzel was biting at the wolf, tearing into its hind leg before backing away to stand in front of her.

Shadow had loped out of the trees behind his pack mates, but he kept his distance, trying futilely to lick at his wound. Red found his gold eyes, begging him to understand how much she’d loved him, how grateful and how sorry she was for everything that had happened.

Two monster wolves reached Red at the same time. Cinzel snarled, jumping at one, ripping hard at its shoulder joint before being tossed aside. He let out a pained yip as he hit the ground. Red ducked forward just as the other wolf snapped its jaws at her. She rolled under his massive ruff and surged to her feet, ready to run.

A shaggy body gnarled with bones blocked her path. Red tried to skid to a stop, feet slipping in the wet sand as the wolf bit down. The massive jaws closed over her shoulder. She could feel the razor teeth stabbing her like a dozen knives, one sliding into her chest like a hot poker.

Red screamed in agony. It felt like she was being ripped apart from the inside out. She fell to her knees, held tight in the wolf’s unforgiving jaws. Cinzel was howling madly somewhere, whining and crying. Red wanted to reassure him, tell him that everything would be okay. He could run away now—the wolves would let him go now that they had Red. But all she could do was scream.

The monster would crunch through her, bones and all, just like it gnashed through the Forest of Thorns. Red blinked through hot tears, the edges of her vision going black. Then suddenly the pressure on her shoulder was ripped away as the wolf was thrown backward, its body slamming into the tower.

Red looked up in surprise. Shadow stood protectively above her, his bristling fur soft where he had loped through the water. The white wolf had turned on his brethren and was fighting off the other monstrous creatures. Fighting to protect Red.

Blood poured down Red’s shoulder. She sagged to the ground, reaching for that massive white paw.

“Shadow,” she breathed. The wolf’s ragged ears flicked back, and he turned his head. For one moment, the yellow eyes softened, and Red was ten years old again, holding her hand out to a hungry, mewling pup whose mother was gone. “Thank you, Shadow,” she whispered. Then he leapt back into the fray.

Red blinked. The world was fuzzy at the edges, the sounds of the fight muffled. She could feel the blood sliding down her arm from the gouges in her shoulder, trickling into the river. She closed her eyes and sank into a memory, one of the few good ones she had from the Forest of Thorns—splashing in that warm water with Cinzel, the sunlight glistening on his fur, and the white wolf watching them contentedly from the shore. The water of the river was always warm and clear, a bright spot in the dark forest.

Now she knew what that river truly was. It was her ancestor, Assora, the Snake Witch—the remains of her body and the last of her will. That great magic had been surrounding Red all that time, keeping her warm. And if it was true that the Snake Witch loved beasts and monsters, then maybe she would have loved Shadow, too. Maybe she could even love Red.

Red dragged herself backward with her good hand until she could lean against the tower, among the roses. She didn’t want to die in the forest. Cinzel limped to her side, the fur of his flank matted from a deep gash. He lay down next to Red, tucking his nose under her hand, and Red dragged her fingers through the wolf’s rough coat. Shadow gave a long howl, biting and snarling as he fought off the other three wolves.

Red leaned back, looking up through the roses at the blue sky, and she smiled. High above, Perrin had reached the top. His blue jacket fluttered in the wind as he spread his arms wide, getting ready to unleash his dream magic.

She hadn’t failed after all.