Page 10 of The Girl in the Forest

Most passages were shadowy and blue, illuminated by the bioluminescent creatures and plants that covered the jutting walls. The stone was familiar—obsidian—and the light was bright. I followed a path that seemed blessed by the Green Man because I saw him everywhere—in the green moss. The green of spring grass, and the darker forest green of ivy, twisting around tree trunks.

For the space of a heartbeat, I wondered at the oddity of sunlight in a passage. Then the doubt drifted. Rainbow-colored mist from the waterfall’s veil dampened the air. The waterfall spilled over rocks, gurgling into a pool where pink-spotted frogs croaked from between the lily pads. When tiny, wispy sprites emerged from the foliage, I laughed at their many colors, at the way they swirled and danced. I wanted to join them, extend my arms, wait for the tickle of their wings as they glided across my palms… and a shudder passed through me at the recognition.

I was in my nightmare, the one I’d had months ago at Grayson’s watchtower house, when I’d been recovering from worm poison. I’d dreamed the night after he caught me out of bed. The moment had been surreal. I’d talked to his wolf, saw him separate from the man, and in the furious aftermath, I’d dreamed of a place like this, with the lily pads and sprites. Until the dream changed, turned frightening.

The mud at my feet had flowed up my body, curling like grasping tendrils, seeping into my mouth and down my throat.

Grayson had been there to pull me out. But he wasn’t here, and when the passage behind me closed, I stumbled in a circle, blind panic roaring through me when I saw Metis standing there.

“You’ve finally come,” she said. “Noa Bishop, consort to the Dread Lord.”

The Lady of the Lake stood before me with her blonde hair gleaming. I remembered the sharpness of her perfect features—although the light softened her cheekbones, mouth, and chin, and she didn’t look so bloodthirsty.

Details continued to rattle me. Instead of the icy diamond crown, she wore a fiery wreath made from flowers in every shade of red. Her diaphanous gown flowed with layers of chiffon ranging from the palest yellow to the deepest tangerine. I thought of autumn when I studied her, not the deep ocean, and I thought there was something… peculiar in the color choices.

A feathered, gold-and-orange bird perched in her hair—even more peculiar when the strange creature tipped its head and blinked.

“Consort to the Dread Lord,” the woman intoned again, although her mouth twitched before she clapped her hands. “Oh, I’ve always wanted to say that—did I scare you, dear?”

Gold bracelets jangled on her wrists while I moistened my dry lips. The curly-winged bird chirped, then flitted away.

The woman’s laugh trilled as she said, “You think I’m my sister.” Then her shoulders shimmied into a shudder. “Horrible woman—Metis. She slanders Fee all the time, says he’s batty as an old coot. A king with no throne or some dribble like that.”

“Fee?”

“Fee—well, of course. He never told you his name, did he?” She blinked the way the bird blinked. “Fee is Felix, the King of the Forest, whom you love to call the Green Man, which makes me think of moldy cheese.”

“Excuse me,” I managed, “but who are you?”

“I’d be the Queen of the Forest—if such a title existed. Aine will do. That’s my name, and I look like Metis but we’re not twins. Same father, different mothers. She has that awful oceanid bloodline. I’m a woodland nymph.”

She gestured around the wide garden where we stood, the trees, the waterfall, the mossy path. “You’ve dreamed of this place before, haven’t you?”

“In nightmares,” I said.

“Yes… well, I may have misjudged. I thought a familiar image would be comforting. I forgot about the mud and all those creepy, bitey things. Come. Hurry.” She curled her long-fingered hand the way the nymph—Nia—had done at the Gathering. “We don’t want him plunging in here and spoiling all the fun.”

With my pulse beating like a drum, I forced myself to follow Aine when she turned to walk along the path, feeling more like Alice when she fell down the rabbit hole. “Who would plunge in here?”

“Your dread lord, dear. So, so handsome, that one. Don’t tell Fee, but I have a teensy little crush. And we need to move on before she finds us.”

Perhaps Fee—the King of the Forest—wasn’t the only one a little batty, although Aine’s manner was endearing, how she wrapped herself in endless inner dialogs that kept our conversation jumping from subject to subject. I wanted to steer her back to the woman who might find us, since it wasn’t Grayson—the dreaded Dread Lord to the nymphs. Metis called him the same thing. Said he was worse.

Grief overwhelmed me, from the rite I’d performed for Halwyn an hour ago and then my decision to leave. My nerves were scraped raw. Torn apart. When I’d pushed through Fee’s magic and felt the power in the runes flicker out, I’d thought I could stand the loss. But then, the last hateful twitch of the wolf rune ended with a silken caress, and the emptiness in my bones and blood ached.

As we walked, Aine’s gown fluttered like autumn leaves in a breeze, even though the balmy temperature reminded me of spring. My heart raced each time Aine turned, leading me through a twisty maze made of leafy shrubs that towered over my head. I’d never find my way out if I wanted to leave, not with the turns and dead ends.

But something else concerned me more than finding the way back. “Who else might find us?”

“Metis—that old sea witch,” Aine said. “Although she loves water, so I doubt she’ll come here. No, she’ll send those little fishes who swim back and tell her everything. I detest anything wet unless it’s rain or a sparkling stream. They tell me you were kind to that black-haired river nymph, Lorriel. You should be careful around them. My sister has spies everywhere. And I’m sure she’ll be angry once she knows you’re here.”

I worried about that statement, but didn’t dare ask. “Where are we, Aine?”

“Our little wrinkle in the world. That’s the real sky overhead. The air is the same. Maybe the plants are a tad different, the creatures who live here. You’ll meet Effa in a moment. She’ll be your companion. Help you get settled. We have a library and a meditation garden. Caerwen gives a wonderful massage. You should ask her to come see you—you look a little stiff. I knew your mother—she was stiff too, so I doubt she would have told you. The book you found in the cave was one I gave her. I thought she could read it, but she couldn’t. None of the other failles have been able to figure it out either. Not in centuries.”

Other failles? In centuries?

“No failles here now, other than you,” Aine continued. “You’re quite rare. We find one every few generations, and not all want to stay.”

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