Assistants bustled around the Council Member room, faces lined with stress and anxiety.
Scrolls zipped around. Messages appeared at random intervals and varying heights. Water pitchers poured into crystal glasses, then soared overhead to lower in front of someone else.
Two Council Members stood behind tall-backed, velvet chairs in deep discussion. Another paced near the fire. The rest sat in varying stages of disarray and puzzlement as they beckoned Assistants, waved away messages, blinked back shock. Copies of the Chatterer littered the table top. Articles blinked in synchronized updates, like giant bugs opening and closing their eyes.
Outside the room, Chatham Castle bustled in greater uproar. Coven Leaders and Council Members had loaned their estates to witches uprooted by floods and lived out of their offices. Assistants slept in the halls. Fireboys ran constantly, attempting to find and ferry dry firewood.
A low-level hum of chaos thrived in the halls, lending more frantic energy to the air. In some way, it reminded me of the moments before the Battle of Chatham Castle more than three years ago now.
How I hated that it had returned.
On the other side of the table, Hiddleston looked up, saw me, and relaxed. He lifted a hand to draw my gaze, then beckoned me closer with a flap of fingers. Somewhat reluctantly, I obeyed. Breathless, arms stuffed full of paperwork, he tilted his head the other direction.
“With me,” he said crisply. “Council Member Sia is waiting for you. You can stand by her. Trust me, you won’t want to be near any of the others.”
Sia ran the Ashleigh Covens. A formidable, stalwart woman with a firmness that reminded me a little of Mildred.
“Is Leda with Scarlett?” I asked.
“Yes. She asked me to watch here, just in case. I’m glad she did. I just heard that Rosanna messaged you. Sia told me. She’s livid with Rosanna for getting you involved and demanded that she will see to your comfort.”
“That bad?” I asked.
Hiddleston nodded.
With that ominous introduction, I followed him to the far edge of the table, near the spot Scarlett often occupied. Merrick followed close behind, invisible, though I expected Hiddleston to figure it out soon enough.
Chairs, makeshift desks cluttered with books and parchment, ringed the perimeter of the room. Council Member Sia looked up as I approached, lips pinched. She stood, fingertips pressed into the tabletop.
“Thank you, Miss Monroe. I’m sorry that you’ve been summoned. We’ll try to make the best of this. Have a seat?”
“No, thank you. I prefer to stand.”
A brush of fingertips across the small of my back confirmed that Merrick remained close. He’d retreat to the wall, not far away, to avoid a blunder with someone walking by. Having him near brought great comfort.
To the room Sia called, “This meeting has begun.”
A gong rang from the corner. Silence fell, broken only by the scrape of Rosanna’s chair as she stood. A lilac dress gave her a sallow appearance as she pushed her sleeves up to her elbow. When she spoke, she stared right at me.
“I understand that we don’t need to relay to you the gravity of the situation that we’re facing?”
I shook my head.
“Wonderful. Let us get right to the point. We’ve asked you here to support an idea that we’ve just developed together.”
An ominous feeling crept over me. The Council conspiring outside of Scarlett’s awareness could never be a good thing.
“Some of us,” Sia called sharply. “Not all of us were included in this conversation.”
Halifax, Council Member over the Tate Covens, tapped two fingers on the table in assent.
“You want my support?”
To Rosanna’s credit, no disdain or annoyance lingered in her studious gaze. “You, Miss Monroe. As improbable as it seems.”
“What is your idea?”
“Yesterday, while discussing our unfortunate situation with Talmund, he mentioned something that caught my attention. He said, ‘If we must put the Network-wide plan that we’ve developed into motion, the demigods need something to distract them away from the forest while the Guardians get into position.’” Rosanna’s arms opened. “The Council can’t help but agree, and this is where you come in. Allow us to show you what we’re thinking?”
After a nod of assent, Rosanna waved to Massimo, a man with an overly-large, bristling mustache who ran the Eastern Covens. She ceded the floor to him. As she sat down, Massimo stood. He gestured to an empty portion of the wall straight ahead.
Glowing white lines appeared, squiggling around until they formed the shape of the Central Network. Green marks scrawled out a general form for Letum Wood, fading out into the edges of the wall where other Network boundaries came into play.
“We’ve come up with a strategic plan to protect the Central Network from an alleged god invasion by distracting the gods.”
“You mean demigods?”
“No. We mean the gods.”
Astonished, I could only stare at him. He continued, unbothered by my blank stare. “It’s reasonable to assume that such an attack could be any moment now, so this plan would need to be enacted immediately.”
The lines changed, narrowed into just the shape of Letum Wood. Known structures—like Chatham Castle—faded. Only the forest remained, a sprawling green blob against the stone backdrop. Brown slash marks indicated mudslides, other disasters. Ragged things that made me wince. I counted ten.
So many?
“We’re seeing massive instability in the forest,” Massimo continued. “Trees falling on homes on the outskirts of Chatham City, destabilizing landslides, washed out roads, bridges, etc. That is only reporting in our Network, as other Networks have fared worse due to the prolonged, severe weather. If the gods are attempting to soften Alkarra, it’s working. Despite all this, we feel, and Talmund agrees, that the gods plan to focus their attack on Letum Wood. At least, that is what they’re doing now.”
He waved to me with a hand, eyebrow raised high in silent question.
“I agree.”
“Scarlett is speaking with other Network delegations right now about a united approach. A plan to bring together Alkarran Guardian forces, Protectors, and Masters to fight as one. We, on the Central Network Council, want to buy the Alkarran Guardians forces time to establish themselves in Letum Wood, where it’s believed the battle will begin.
“We want to distract the gods from the forest while the Guardians set up, and see if we can’t . . . delay them or head them off from the beginning of the attack.”
Suspicion built in the back of my mind. I agreed with them. It would be an unexpected, strategic move to distract gods, but therein was half the battle. How to distract a god?
Yet, in the midst of this, something still wasn’t right.
Georgette, Council Member over Chatham City, stood next. She remained behind the table, hands folded in front of her. “The Central Network Council supports the plan that Scarlett and the other delegations have come up with . . . except for one tenant.”
Neither spoke.
I tilted my head to the side. My hand went to Viveet on instinct, aggravated by the look in Georgette’s eyes.
“What tenant is that?” I asked.
Massimo and Georgette exchanged a glance before she spoke, staring hard at me. “Her plan doesn’t accommodate any action that involves you at all. We think that you are a target for Tontes and Ventis. One that we can use strategically to our benefit.”
“Me?”
Georgette nodded. A ripple ran through the room. I followed it, noting Halifax’s livid stare, and Sia’s white knuckles. Hiddleston’s full lips had pressed into a furious line. Georgette’s deliberate pause gave me a moment to absorb what this must mean. Once I did, my fists clenched at my side.
“You want me to be bait.”
“No,” Georgette countered coolly. “We want you to be a distraction so the Guardians from all Networks can move into position and protect Alkarra. We want you to take the fight away from the forest.”
I sucked in a breath.
Bold.
The audacity nearly made me laugh. As if the gods could be plotted against, thwarted. The Council didn’t know what sort of power they attempted to subvert. Not really. Though I’d been to Alaysia and a conduit for god magic and I knew more than anyone, Baxter aside, even I felt woefully inadequate to advise.
The cold, hard lines of her expression told me Georgette knew exactly what she was doing. They wanted to get me out of their hair as a potential unknown, yet allow the Guardians time to set up to fight. Should I be successful, all the better. For Alkarra, and for the Council, on whom this would reflect so positively.
She did all that by hitting me in my weak spot. The one place from which I couldn’t back away. She knew I wouldn’t refuse an opportunity to protect Letum Wood.
Take the fight away from the forest.
After what I had just seen in Letum Wood, there was nothing I wanted more. For the first time in my life, the Council and I had the same motivation.
“I see.”
Silence.
Merrick put a hand on my shoulder, squeezed hard. The lightest whisper sounded next to my right ear, away from Sia.
“Don’t do it.”
All the eyes in the room stared hard at me. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t help the way my thoughts returned to the same words over and over again.
Take the fight away from the forest.
As if she sensed my weakening, Georgette continued.
“Letum Wood is sheltering witches from all over Alkarra. Those witches are now dying from floods, landslides, mudslides, falling trees. Strategic windstorms fell trees wherever witches can be found. You can’t tell me that taking the fight away from the forest will be a bad thing?”
“Say nothing,” Merrick muttered, voice hard as flint. “They’re sacrificing you as a distraction, a desperate attempt to do something, but it won’t work.”
Unfortunately, I couldn’t say that I didn’t share her observations. Letum Wood had become hazardous for a lot of different reasons. Desperate animals were now losing their homes, which would drive them farther from the heart of the forest. Creatures we didn’t know existed might emerge, and not to great effect.
Letum Wood’s last response haunted me.
We mourn.
Could the forest still fight? Hadn’t the power of the gods shocked Arborra? A couple of hours ago, I would have emphatically said Letum Wood was ready. Now, reality dampened my enthusiasm. Hadn’t Arborra been cowed by the power of god magic? The desecration of my home—and all the trees that surrounded it—left me an uncertain mess.
Trees couldn’t fight thunder.
With that in mind, I asked, “What do you suggest for a plan?”
Massimo pointed to the drawing on the wall. “You draw Tontes or Ventis or both to the West.”
The drawing on the wall panned out again. The green lines shrank, making room for the Central Network, with some of the Western Network blended into the border.
The outline of the West appeared in flaxen tops, like strings of sand curled together. A bright, red circle appeared in the West, not far from the borderlands and the river that split our Networks. Fortifications appeared on the map.
“The borderlands along the Western and Central Network would be an ideal place to draw the gods. The storms have dropped historic rainfall there, as well. The sand is thick and easier to use to build structures with magic. It’s far from important places in our Network, and no witches live there.”
Said sand would also be unstable and ever shifting. A joke against the most powerful god in Alaysia. Ventis alone could wear the structures down in a single breath of wind.
Images of buildings and bulwarks appeared on the stone wall, brightening with color. Sand pits. Ditches. Tent-like structures, made to pop up quickly and without much effort. Most of it could be done by magic. Exhaustive, but not impossible.
Also entirely foolhardy.
“These are structures that we could help you construct, if it would be helpful. We agree this is the best spot.”
“Structures of sand?” I asked. “The best spot for what? How do you plan to use sand against a god?”
“That’s for you to figure out. What we have here is a conglomeration of ideas that we’ve put together to assist you.”
“In other words, you have no plan.”
Massimo said nothing.
Council Members shifted. Assistants stood against the wall, eyes averted to the floor, the ceiling. Anywhere but me. Anxiety filled the air, yet no one spoke.
“You want me to distract the gods, yet you have no plan?”
“You are the plan.”
I scoffed at the hypocrisy. The Council wouldn’t give the Sisterhood the time of day—until my life benefited their purposes.
“We have come up against impossible foes,” Georgette said quietly. “Dueling gods. Floods we cannot stop. What would you have us do, Miss Monroe?”
“Fight back.”
“How?”
“Build support systems to get rid of the flooding waters. Use magic to support the forest.”
“We have done that. Are doing that. But we cannot force the populace to go into dangerous conditions when they’re attempting to save their families, and all Guardians are preparing for the battle of their lives.”
I opened my mouth, closed it again.
“Maybe we could make it safer,” I finally said, desperate now. “For witches to help. The younger trees are attempting to direct their roots down, while the older trees remain stable. They . . .”
Wanted to fight lingered on my lips, but I hesitated. If I took the fight somewhere else it could save Letum Wood . . .
No, this was all a waste of time. One path existed for getting out of this, and that had been clear from the moment Georgette started to talk.
“Fine,” I snapped. “I’ll figure out something, but only to buy us time and protect the forest and not because I’m a willing sacrifice for you. I do this for the Guardians who are about to die saving Alkarra. When we win this battle and you and I come head to head over something again, remember the witch that cared enough to act, not sacrifice.”
Tense faces morphed into relief. Slumped shoulders. Quick sighs. Only Sia and Halifax and Clare betrayed deepening trouble. Halifax straightened. He glared at me through rheumy eyes, a cane pointed to my chest.
“Do you have a plan?” he asked, fury in his aged voice. “You might be wild, Bianca Monroe, but I’ve never known you to be a fool. No daughter of Derek Black would accept the errand of idiots.”
I met his challenging stare.
“I always have a plan.”
* * *
“You’re insane.”
Merrick’s supportive words accompanied me through Chatham Castle, toward Grandfather’s apartments. I sped through the crowded halls, burdened by ideas, plans, precautions. A fireboy rushed past, tinder in hand. His scrawny legs peeled into another hallway just ahead.
“I know it sounds insane.”
Merrick strode at my side, visible again, his steps long and sure. “You know I’m behind most of what you want to do, B, but the Council has asked you to complete a suicide mission. One doomed to fail. You can distract Tontes and Ventis, but to what end? They’re gods. It would be better to work in conjunction with Scarlett and not waste your time on futile efforts.”
“Scarlett is too busy to deal with this. As much as I hate it, I can’t disagree with the Council. There’s a way for us to help, and that is distracting the gods.”
“You can hide behind that lie if you want, but I’ll never believe it.”
“It’s not a lie!”
“You’re doing this because you want to protect the forest. You don’t trust Letum Wood to recover from what just happened.”
I stopped. My hair spun as I whirled around to face him with a snarl. He set his hands on his hips, ready for my rebuttal. Blistering annoyance compelled me to open my mouth, but I stopped short.
What was there to say? Merrick was right. I sighed, an aggravated sound that caused him to lift an eyebrow.
“Yes, I do want to protect Letum Wood. Taking the fight away from the forest might be one way to do it. But there’s more to it than that.”
“What?”
I floundered, my tongue bound. In fact, there was nothing else. Nothing except terror. Fear. A blind sense of loyalty to a forest that had saved me from the lands and lives beyond this life. When I offered nothing but befuddled silence, Merrick ran a hand through his hair.
“Does the forest know what you’re doing?”
“No.”
“Is that fair?”
My response faltered.
“According to your report, the forest helped you tonight, B. Like Ignis, you told me. Maybe you were meant to fight with the forest, not protect it. Deasylva may have given you equal power, just in a different way.”
“This isn’t like Ignis,” I snapped. “This is different.”
“How?”
“Because . . . that is . . . it just is!”
Merrick softened. He put a hand under my chin. “You lost your home tonight, B. Your trees, who are your greatest friends. Don’t make a wild decision based on frantic emotions. What if you cripple your ability to truly help the Network by doing this? The Council is scared—bottom line. You’re a wild card and they’re hoping you land it, that’s all. They didn’t even have their own plan. These are witches that snubbed a nose at you right until you became the only option. Don’t forget that.”
Sorrow welled up in my throat, blocking my words. Tears prickled at the backs of my eyes, but I blinked them away. Now wasn’t the time for emotion, Merrick was correct. I needed cold, hard facts. Logic and strategy.
Still, my heart curled away inside.
“Take away my cottage,” I said. “Take away the overwhelming damage happening to Letum Wood with every moment that passes, and my fury at everything in general. Strip every emotion out of this situation. Look at the facts, Merrick.
“We have gods on the way. The only chance to stop those gods is to steal their amulets. To steal their amulets, we need as many witches ready to fight as possible. Ideally, those witches will be in Letum Wood, because we believe that the gods will attack Deasylva directly.
“The Guardians that have been training or planning to get said amulets have to move into position. If I can distract the gods while the Guardians position themselves for success, lives will be saved. More amulets will be won. Our chances of survival will increase. Right?”
He scowled. Pressing my advantage, I continued.
“You have to admit that distracting the gods would be a strategic maneuver to help us get our Guardians into place.”
“Yes, but—”
“There’s no buts. Yes or no?”
“Yes,” he muttered.
“If the gods topple the ancients, which is the heart of Deasylva’s power, the rest of the forest will fall. Do you agree?”
“Yes.”
“He’s already weakened—is weakening—Letum Wood. Not to mention putting in danger all the witches that are finding refuge there. That’s another fact.”
He glowered deeper. “Yes.”
“Logic follows—again—that buying time makes sense. It helps us save the witches, the trees, the ancients, and by extension, Deasylva’s power.”
“Yes.”
“Then this is a good path.”
I schooled back dark amusement. It wasn’t often I could best Merrick with facts, but when I did, it felt good. Even over the layers of despair.
“Sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself, B.”
I frowned.
He turned away, jaw tight, before I could formulate a response. “Fine, but know that I don’t like it.”
“I don’t think Ventis and Tontes care what we like. Do you think any Guardians will be able to steal amulets?”
“They’re hoping to. Whether an average Central Guard contingent could stand against god magic and demigods, I have my doubts. Matthais, Baxter, Talmund, and Scarlett have been working together with a plan to have the Protectors be involved. Big picture? Yes they can do it. Will amulets be taken from a prepared god who has been violently destructive and sneaky? Unlikely.”
I pressed my palm to his hand. “Then let’s try this path. We need every advantage we can get. If I fail to distract the gods away from Letum Wood, I’ll be back in the forest immediately to help find amulets and cripple whomever I can.”
“And if you don’t make it back?”
“I will.”
He stared at me, long and hard. Chatham Castle flowed around us. Busy maids, bustling witches, calling Assistants. No one paid attention to the couple pressed together in the hallway. Thunder punctured the air, rolling out for a full ten seconds before Merrick palmed my cheek in his hand.
Words wrenched out of him, his face split in pain.
“I’m afraid of losing you, B. You could present the most well-thought out plan with the best chance of success and survival, and I still wouldn’t like it.” He paused, swallowed hard. Horror filled his gaze. “I can’t go through that again.”
His husky voice teetered on an edge of desperation. Shocked, I could only blink, lips parted. The scrape of his fingers along my cheek as they curled into a fist sent a shiver down my neck. He leaned closer. The air between us charged with the force of his emotions. The power of his voice.
“You died, B. You died and I couldn’t do anything about it. Your life drained away in front of me. Only sheer luck, and the right choice on your part, brought you back from the lands and lives beyond this life.”
My bunched frustration loosened like a freed corset, a released sigh. My fingertips touched his stubbled, dirty cheek. I wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, pulled him closer. He closed his eyes, breathed in.
“I’ve survived the gods before.”
“Barely.”
“Letum Wood saved me then, it will save me again.”
“This is different.”
“How?”
“They’re gods.”
“They were gods months ago.”
“You don’t have Ignis protecting you anymore.”
For a moment, I almost shared his fear. As imperfect as Ignis had been—still was—we had been a lethal match. Seamlessly integrated and with mighty power.
“Maybe not, but now I have Deasylva.”
Skepticism showed on his face. Despite all proof to the contrary, I felt the words to my bones. She’d proven to be a quiet goddess. We hadn’t interacted since the In-between, but I felt her hum in the background. The switch to knowing, irrevocably, that she existed changed everything.
“The forest is part of me, Merrick. If I can save it, I will. If Letum Wood has to fight? It will do that too. But, before that, I have to try. I’d never be able to live with myself if I didn’t do everything in my power to prevent more destruction.”
His stony expression didn’t appear reassured, but slightly mollified. “If I can’t stop you, at least let me join you?”
“Do you need to help Baxter?”
“I can’t find him, and no. You’re more important.”
I smiled. “I wouldn’t want anyone else at my side.”
Relief finally showed in his wry smile. “Thank you, B. I’ll be at your side forever, if you’ll have me.”
“I love you.”
He pressed his forehead to mine. “Through the lands and lives beyond.”
I closed my eyes, breathed him in. The harried air in Chatham Castle faded as he held onto me. Our hearts mingled. Breath combined. The connection satisfied the terrified part of me orphaned by my once-safe cottage.
When I opened my eyes again, infused with new courage, he smiled.
“Well, little troublemaker. Shall we save Alkarra?”
“Follow me. Oh, and let me do the talking when we get to where we’re going, all right? We’re going to start with Tontes, since he’s the most powerful. Also, do you happen to have a pencil on you? I need to send a quick message.”
* * *
The Zamok Castle gardens were still visible despite advancing daytime hours. Zamok Castle lingered on the edge of Southern Network tundra, where lower, rolling mountains, carpeted with thick timbers, met wild grasses. The sun hovered in the lower sky, hugging the ground like pebbles over water.
This time of year brought a short sunset, a quick sunrise. The sun dipped below the horizon for only a few hours before returning to the sky in a loop of near-perpetual day. Darkness reigned in the Central Network, but the Southern Network clung to the edge of light here.
I turned my attention to the trees, listening. My experience with forests outside of Letum Wood was limited. Letum Wood began talking to me years ago, and I’d never thought of hearing another one. Today, low notes filled my mind like a gushing tide. Different. Gentle. Not so packed with power or adoration, yet familiar.
She comes to us.
All belong to her.
You are one of us.
I stood at the edge of a garden and peered out. Bands of darkness represented the forest that filled my mind. My heart drew out to it, swelling. I loved these trees, too. It wasn’t just Letum Wood. Anything with Deasylva’s influence drew me closer, a powerful vibrance.
You belong to me, I whispered.
Cries echoed, exultant things.
Merrick shuffled behind me. He kept one hand on his sword hilt, the other at his side. His gaze darted constantly, allowing me the space to focus on the trees in the distance. I blinked, coming back into my own head, and spun to face him.
“I hope she received the letter.”
He nodded toward the castle, where torchlight illuminated the walls in rings of yellow. A woman stalked out of the castle and turned toward us, eyebrows knitted together in a wrathful expression.
“I think she did,” he drawled.
Tipa arrived all at once, full of wrath and fire. Her eyes flashed. Her fists balled at her side. If I hadn’t known her to be Gelas’ daughter, I would have pegged her as a child of fire. Her amulet, Kibbukonialamonta, sparkled from a barrette in her hair.
“You are the maddest witch I have ever met!” she cried. Behind me, Merrick advanced. I could feel his warning glower, though I couldn’t see his face. I stopped him with a hand at my side. He halted, but hovered close. Tipa skidded to a stop with a furious glare.
“What are you thinking?” she snapped.
“Merry meet, Tipa. Always a pleasure. My note arrived, I take it?”
“Are you mad? You must be.” She held up a twisted piece of parchment, as if she’d crushed it. “This is a joke. Tell me that this is a joke.”
I said nothing.
She snarled.
“Will you do it?” I asked gently.
“No!”
“Why not?”
Her eyes bugged out. “You want me to take you to Tontes’ kingdom? You want to speak with Tontes? A servant of Deasylva?”
I nodded.
“You’re mad!”
“Strategic. The two are very different. If you agree to hear me out, I’ll tell you my plan. If you want to keep ranting and raving and wasting Alkarra’s time, you can do that. If you don’t take me, I’ll find someone who will, but you’re costing us time and lives. Your choice, Tipa.”
Her ire stalled. Her mouth opened, then closed. She glanced at Merrick, frowned, then looked back at me.
“Explain,” she spat.
As quickly as possible, I summarized the plan, the goal. The astonishment in her face altered into something like disbelief, then dubious uncertainty. That, I could work with.
“So I need you to take me to Tontes.”
Merrick stood behind me, rigid as a sword. I hadn’t told him the full extent of my idea until this moment. I could practically hear him silently ranting to me in his rolling Northern brogue.
Her rancor faded to astonishment. “You really think it’ll work?” she asked.
“I have no idea.”
Her brow came together in hesitant frustration. After a long pause, she rolled her eyes and muttered, “Fine.”
“Really?”
“Only because I will do whatever it takes to help my father obtain this land without Tontes and Ventis destroying it. This has nothing to do with you!”
“Thanks. I think.”
She glowered. “We go now,” she muttered. “There’s no guarantee that Tontes will be there, or hear you, or anything like it. We could be wasting both of our time.”
“If we’re in his circle of power, won’t he be able to sense us?”
“He’ll know we’re there, but he might not care.”
I grinned. “Then we have to make him care.”