A Strange Hymn
Page 42
“I need to make this harder.”
He moves his weapon from his left hand to his right.
Shit.
I hadn’t even noticed.
I back up, moving into the queen’s sacred oak forest. The leaves brush against me, whispering, whispering …
Des comes at me, looking oh so eager.
I move deeper into the forest, sap from an overhanging oak dripping onto my neck, then against my bare shoulder.
“Evading me will do you no good,” Des says. One moment he’s standing in the middle of the garden, the sunlight brightening his pale features, the next, he’s gone.
I rotate around, searching for him among the trees.
“Looking for me?” His voice tickles my ear, but when I spin to face him, no one’s there.
“You’re never going to find me if you’re looking for where I should be.” This comes from deeper in the wooded grove.
“Come out and fight fair!” I call, my voice ethereal.
“Fairies don’t like to play fair,” he says from directly above me.
I glance up just in time to see Des crouched on one of the branches high above me, his body poised to spring.
I tense, readying myself for attack, savoring the possibility of it. But it never comes.
The Bargainer’s expression changes in an instant as he takes me in. “Callypso—” He disappears, materializing in front of me a moment later, his hands brushing away my hair. “You’re bleeding.”
My skin dims at the concern in his voice.
I’m bleeding?
My hand goes to where his eyes are trained. Immediately I feel warm wetness.
The sap that dripped on me.
Except, when I pull my hand away and stare at my crimson coated fingers, it looks less like sap and a helluva lot more like blood.
“Ugh,” I say, wiping it off as the last of my siren slips away. “It’s not mine.”
“Then who’s is it?”
“It came from the tree.” It only takes a couple of seconds for my words to register.
Trees don’t bleed.
Des is already two steps ahead of me, scouring the oaks for more signs of blood.
Speckled around several nearby trees are dark spots on the ground, glistening stains that I’d assumed were sap. But are they?
Des scuffs a patch with his boot, then glances up at the tree’s canopy. I follow his gaze up, now noticing the strange rivulets of the dark liquid running down the tree trunk.
The Bargainer vanishes, reappearing on a branch above us before disappearing again. Higher and higher he moves.
Less than a minute later, he’s back at my side, wiping his hands off.
“No body and no signs of an attack,” he says. “The fluid seems to be coming from the tree itself.”
I think that makes me feel better.
“So … it’s sap,” I say.
Des shakes his head, his mouth a thin line. “No, it’s blood.”
Chapter 25
The trees are bleeding.
I suppress a shudder.
“Is that normal?” I ask, wiping what I can of the—cringe—blood off of me as the two of us exit the oak forest.
It wasn’t just that one tree. Several more surrounding oaks had bits of blood trickling from their trunks.
Des shakes his head, his brow furrowed. “No.”
Why would a tree bleed? And is it just the oak trees right where we were training, or is it the whole forest of them?
I think back to last night, when Des had me pressed up against another oak. That one had been just fine …
One of Des’s guards comes striding out to us, his eyes wide. “Your Majesty—” His voice cuts off abruptly when he sees me.
“You may speak freely,” Des commands.
The guard’s attention returns to Des. “Two of our soldiers are missing.”
Two soldiers are missing?
Des raises an eyebrow. “It’s well past noon. Why am I being informed of this now?” Des demands.
The guard shakes his head. “The festivities … they had the morning off … They were supposed to check in for roll call at twelve. When they didn’t, several soldiers went looking for them. Their beds are still made, their bags still packed. We don’t think they made it back from the celebration last night.
Des’s mouth tightens. His gaze briefly moves to me, his expression inscrutable.
“Continue searching for the men,” he finally says. “There’s still a chance they’re sleeping off the effects of last night.”
Des’s grim gaze meets mine, and his eyes say what his mouth won’t: there’s still a chance, but it’s an infinitesimally small one.
Bleeding trees and missing men.
And we haven’t even been here a day yet.
Training for the rest of the day is canceled. Des and I part ways at the garden, him to check on his men, and me to take a shower. Wearily I climb up the staircase that wraps around the giant cedar, passing room after room.
Going to have buns of steel before this week is through.
Des and I are on something like the thirty-seventh floor.
I pause when I see Temper’s room ahead of me, giving myself a moment to catch my breath. As I lean against the railing, enjoying the view, the door to my friend’s room opens.
I raise my eyebrows when I see Malaki slipping out.
Whelp. Temper bagged the Lord of Dreams alright.
As soon as he sees me, he ducks his head, running his hand along the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable.
I raise my hands. “None of my business.”
But it’s going to become my business the moment Temper corners me. She loves divulging all the juicy details of her sexploits.
He clears his throat, then nods sheepishly as he passes me.
His footsteps are fading down the stairs when I think of something.
“Wait,” I swivel around, “Malaki—”
He stops on the stairs below me and turns around, his eyepatch glinting in sunlight. In the harsh light of day, the scar that stretches out from beneath the patch is even more gruesome.
“Is there any way I could see the Flora Kingdom’s sleeping women?”
His brows furrow. “I could ask …”
I suck in my lower lip. “Would you?”
He studies me for a moment longer. Finally, he nods. “Consider it done.”
By late afternoon, Malaki’s made good on his promise.
I stand inside one of the Flora Kingdom’s expansive greenhouses, Temper at my side. The hot conservatory is filled to the brim with sleeping women, each one laid out in her glass coffin. Like in the Kingdom of Night, there are hundreds, if not thousands, of them, their caskets spread throughout the building.
“This shit is motherfucking disturbing,” Temper says next to me, “and I’ve seen my share of disturbing.”
Considering that solving cases is what she and I do best, and an idle Temper is never a good thing, I brought her along to help me, filling her in on the mystery during our walk over here.
I nod, my gaze moving from woman to woman. I’m still not used to the sight even after all this time. It’s the little details that get to me—how one’s pointed ears peak through her hair, how another looks like she might have dimples if she were to wake up and smile.
I still remember Karnon’s terrible kisses, how he’d force his dark magic down my throat. Being a lowly slave had benefitted me then. Whatever tainted spell he’d put these women under, I’d escaped it.
The door to the conservatory opens, and in strides the Green Man.
He moves his weapon from his left hand to his right.
Shit.
I hadn’t even noticed.
I back up, moving into the queen’s sacred oak forest. The leaves brush against me, whispering, whispering …
Des comes at me, looking oh so eager.
I move deeper into the forest, sap from an overhanging oak dripping onto my neck, then against my bare shoulder.
“Evading me will do you no good,” Des says. One moment he’s standing in the middle of the garden, the sunlight brightening his pale features, the next, he’s gone.
I rotate around, searching for him among the trees.
“Looking for me?” His voice tickles my ear, but when I spin to face him, no one’s there.
“You’re never going to find me if you’re looking for where I should be.” This comes from deeper in the wooded grove.
“Come out and fight fair!” I call, my voice ethereal.
“Fairies don’t like to play fair,” he says from directly above me.
I glance up just in time to see Des crouched on one of the branches high above me, his body poised to spring.
I tense, readying myself for attack, savoring the possibility of it. But it never comes.
The Bargainer’s expression changes in an instant as he takes me in. “Callypso—” He disappears, materializing in front of me a moment later, his hands brushing away my hair. “You’re bleeding.”
My skin dims at the concern in his voice.
I’m bleeding?
My hand goes to where his eyes are trained. Immediately I feel warm wetness.
The sap that dripped on me.
Except, when I pull my hand away and stare at my crimson coated fingers, it looks less like sap and a helluva lot more like blood.
“Ugh,” I say, wiping it off as the last of my siren slips away. “It’s not mine.”
“Then who’s is it?”
“It came from the tree.” It only takes a couple of seconds for my words to register.
Trees don’t bleed.
Des is already two steps ahead of me, scouring the oaks for more signs of blood.
Speckled around several nearby trees are dark spots on the ground, glistening stains that I’d assumed were sap. But are they?
Des scuffs a patch with his boot, then glances up at the tree’s canopy. I follow his gaze up, now noticing the strange rivulets of the dark liquid running down the tree trunk.
The Bargainer vanishes, reappearing on a branch above us before disappearing again. Higher and higher he moves.
Less than a minute later, he’s back at my side, wiping his hands off.
“No body and no signs of an attack,” he says. “The fluid seems to be coming from the tree itself.”
I think that makes me feel better.
“So … it’s sap,” I say.
Des shakes his head, his mouth a thin line. “No, it’s blood.”
Chapter 25
The trees are bleeding.
I suppress a shudder.
“Is that normal?” I ask, wiping what I can of the—cringe—blood off of me as the two of us exit the oak forest.
It wasn’t just that one tree. Several more surrounding oaks had bits of blood trickling from their trunks.
Des shakes his head, his brow furrowed. “No.”
Why would a tree bleed? And is it just the oak trees right where we were training, or is it the whole forest of them?
I think back to last night, when Des had me pressed up against another oak. That one had been just fine …
One of Des’s guards comes striding out to us, his eyes wide. “Your Majesty—” His voice cuts off abruptly when he sees me.
“You may speak freely,” Des commands.
The guard’s attention returns to Des. “Two of our soldiers are missing.”
Two soldiers are missing?
Des raises an eyebrow. “It’s well past noon. Why am I being informed of this now?” Des demands.
The guard shakes his head. “The festivities … they had the morning off … They were supposed to check in for roll call at twelve. When they didn’t, several soldiers went looking for them. Their beds are still made, their bags still packed. We don’t think they made it back from the celebration last night.
Des’s mouth tightens. His gaze briefly moves to me, his expression inscrutable.
“Continue searching for the men,” he finally says. “There’s still a chance they’re sleeping off the effects of last night.”
Des’s grim gaze meets mine, and his eyes say what his mouth won’t: there’s still a chance, but it’s an infinitesimally small one.
Bleeding trees and missing men.
And we haven’t even been here a day yet.
Training for the rest of the day is canceled. Des and I part ways at the garden, him to check on his men, and me to take a shower. Wearily I climb up the staircase that wraps around the giant cedar, passing room after room.
Going to have buns of steel before this week is through.
Des and I are on something like the thirty-seventh floor.
I pause when I see Temper’s room ahead of me, giving myself a moment to catch my breath. As I lean against the railing, enjoying the view, the door to my friend’s room opens.
I raise my eyebrows when I see Malaki slipping out.
Whelp. Temper bagged the Lord of Dreams alright.
As soon as he sees me, he ducks his head, running his hand along the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable.
I raise my hands. “None of my business.”
But it’s going to become my business the moment Temper corners me. She loves divulging all the juicy details of her sexploits.
He clears his throat, then nods sheepishly as he passes me.
His footsteps are fading down the stairs when I think of something.
“Wait,” I swivel around, “Malaki—”
He stops on the stairs below me and turns around, his eyepatch glinting in sunlight. In the harsh light of day, the scar that stretches out from beneath the patch is even more gruesome.
“Is there any way I could see the Flora Kingdom’s sleeping women?”
His brows furrow. “I could ask …”
I suck in my lower lip. “Would you?”
He studies me for a moment longer. Finally, he nods. “Consider it done.”
By late afternoon, Malaki’s made good on his promise.
I stand inside one of the Flora Kingdom’s expansive greenhouses, Temper at my side. The hot conservatory is filled to the brim with sleeping women, each one laid out in her glass coffin. Like in the Kingdom of Night, there are hundreds, if not thousands, of them, their caskets spread throughout the building.
“This shit is motherfucking disturbing,” Temper says next to me, “and I’ve seen my share of disturbing.”
Considering that solving cases is what she and I do best, and an idle Temper is never a good thing, I brought her along to help me, filling her in on the mystery during our walk over here.
I nod, my gaze moving from woman to woman. I’m still not used to the sight even after all this time. It’s the little details that get to me—how one’s pointed ears peak through her hair, how another looks like she might have dimples if she were to wake up and smile.
I still remember Karnon’s terrible kisses, how he’d force his dark magic down my throat. Being a lowly slave had benefitted me then. Whatever tainted spell he’d put these women under, I’d escaped it.
The door to the conservatory opens, and in strides the Green Man.
