The Blood Forest (Tree of Ages #3)(28)

It was clear that the threat of the Faie was heavy on everyone’s minds. It was not wise to travel through the woods, but they had little choice. Hopefully the next Faie they came across would be friendly, like the tree-like Trow. They seemed to like her, and could perhaps elaborate upon what the young Merrow girl had said, which she had yet to tell Iseult.

She glanced in his direction, but he was intent on watching their surroundings. Yes, she still needed to tell him what the Merrow girl had said, even though he knew better than most that all must fear the Dair.



Maarav tightened the bandage on his arm as they rode, annoyed that the young soldier had gotten through his defenses enough to cause minor damage. Still, he was glad he’d judged the situation well. The extra horses had everyone in high spirits, chattering amongst themselves rather than eyeing him suspiciously. Banding together against the soldiers had also taken some of the attention off Tavish and Rae for what happened to Anna’s men. They were all comrades in arms now.

He glanced around at his party as they rode on. Silvery clouds were forming in the sky, casting occasional shadows across the group. It almost seemed cold enough to snow, though given the season, the sun should have been beating down on their backs. He doubted it was just the Faie’s presence affecting the weather. There was no mention of unseasonable cold in the accounts of the Faie war. Something else was going on. It was as if the earth itself had taken notice, and was trying to freeze its inhabitants into submission. Hopefully it would freeze An Fiach first.

He hadn’t expected that additional complication. There were already too many complications. First, the Faie were highly unpredictable. It was difficult to tell if they had a leader, or just acted upon impulse. The attack on Migris had definitely been organized, but was it an isolated event, or a hint of what was to come? Then there were the Reivers. They’d heard no word of them so far, but he knew they would pop up again as the land fell further into chaos. An Fiach seemed to be the largest local faction, but the great cities had their own militaries.

At the center of it all were Finn’s people, the Cavari. Iseult had not divulged much, but if Finn was back, the others likely were too.

Maarav was yet to choose his side in it all. He knew Slàine, the woman who had cared for him like she was her own son, would want him to be on the side of the highest bidder, but he’d never been overly motivated by coin, nor was he motivated by power. While he had made a few allegiances over his lifetime, they did not drive his day to day life. What drove him was the only game he’d ever known, to come out on top of any situation thrown his way. The game had occupied most every moment of his life, a life that was nothing more than waiting to see what happened when a soulless man died.

He shook his head. It was better not to think about that. For now, he needed to focus on the most imminent threat of An Fiach, and why they now wanted Finn. Someone must have reported just who she was, else so many men would never be sent after a single girl. Kai was likely but an extra token, wanted for his associations with her.

Something wet hit his cheek. He looked up to see a gentle white flurry descending upon them. It was actually snowing in the middle of the warm season. Maarav couldn’t help but feel that perhaps even he was out of his depth. The snowfall began to thicken, making it difficult to see through the already dense trees surrounding them.

Iseult rode up by his side, looking grim as snowflakes gathered in his dark hair. “Keep your eyes open for shelter,” he advised. “We’re not outfitted for this type of weather.” He peered around at the falling snow like it was an enemy that had suddenly ambushed them. A fitting analogy, really, since most only had light cloaks to ward away the cold.

They rode on in silence as the others oohed and aahed about the snow. Maarav did not ooh, nor did he ahh. It was a pretty sight, but it could quickly turn deadly. At least An Fiach would have trouble tracking them as the snow slowly covered up their passing.

The trees thinned as they continued onward, leaving the riders fully unguarded from the icy flurry. The complaints of it being too cold began. Maarav scanned the land, freshly painted a crisp white.

“Over there,” he stated to Iseult, catching sight of a large structure.

Iseult narrowed his gaze in the direction Maarav pointed, then nodded. “I will ride ahead.”

He took off without further explanation, though Maarav knew he was likely scouting for dangers. Glad to let his brother handle the risky work, he turned to halt the other riders.

Finn and Bedelia reached him first. The hoods of their cloaks were pulled up over their heads, Finn’s a forest green, and Bedelia’s a dark brown that would easily blend in with most surroundings.

“Iseult has gone to scout our shelter,” he explained as the others reached them.

Anna seemed to have gotten over her irritation at sharing a horse, and now huddled close to Ealasaid for warmth. “I assumed we would ride on through the weather,” she commented around her chattering teeth.

“Unwise,” Tavish replied before Maarav could. “This is no natural storm.”

“Obviously,” Anna snapped. “Which is why we should continue riding until we’re out of it.”

“Too dangerous,” Rae chimed in. “We would be fools to risk the horses.”

Anna snorted. “You two sure picked the perfect time to begin offering input.”

Neither of the men replied, but they were right. The snow was beginning to pile above the horses’ fetlocks. There was no predicting the duration of the downfall, nor how far the storm spanned.