Of Werewolves and Curses by Emma Hamm
Chapter 27
Their travels would have been easier if there was a portal, but Freya didn’t need a portal. She knew where the forest was now. If it hadn’t wanted to be easily found, then it shouldn’t have brought her within its glen so many times. Freya could get there with her eyes closed.
“This way,” she said.
They all ran toward the small hole in the cliff where she knew there was a gap. They might all be able to fit, although it would be difficult with Leo. She pointed and made a small, disappointed sound.
“That’s how I got there last time. But with Leo being like he is...” She didn’t see him waking anytime soon, nor capable of walking on his own.
Eldridge grunted. “I can get him through. If this is the only way, then that’s the way we’ll go. Lead, Freya. I will follow you.”
To the ends of the earth. She knew that was the end of that statement. He’d follow her through whatever adventure she led him on because he knew she wouldn’t lead him wrong. No matter what feat, the Goblin King had always known she would keep him safe.
And she knew he would give his life for her if that was what the journey needed. Though she’d never let him.
Freya nodded. “Come with me, then. Let’s go to the trees.”
It was a lot harder to squeeze through the tunnel of rock this time. Every breath pressed her chest against the stone. And when she looked back, it appeared to change and warp for each person. It was trying to make everyone feel claustrophobic. Such a deliberate magic could only be the trees trying to slow them down.
But Freya would not be slowed.
She moved through the crag with purpose and determination running through her veins. No one would stop her. She would continue without question because this was the right thing to do. Even if the trees disagreed.
Freya popped out on the other side of the stone with a wet sound, as though she were birthed into the forest. Freya fell onto her hands and knees, already bowing to the trees without realizing what she was doing.
She would have bowed on her own, if they’d given her the chance. But they didn’t.
The forest had expelled them right in front of the ancient oak that stretched its roots deep into the ground. The dead man looked at her with a maniacal grin on his face. “So, Freya of Woolwich, you’re determined to become a hero once again.”
“Of course I am,” she hissed. “Why would you rush him like this? Even you could see that love was blooming between them again, and instead, all you want to do is hurt them. This was not our deal.”
“We never had a deal. You were supposed to help me, and then I would help you.” The dead man yawned. “I grow weary of your games of matchmaking and love. I wanted it to go faster, and since it didn’t, I’m ending this game.”
Cora wiggled out from between the stones and then dropped into a low bow. Freya wasn’t even sure the other woman had looked around herself, she’d just fallen into a bow knowing that the trees would be watching. Arrow came next, his pointed nose lowered to the ground while holding his ears flat against his skull.
How ridiculous. This forest was trying to renege on their deal, and that made it unworthy of anyone’s honor.
The dead man’s eyes flicked to Cora, then back to Freya as though the faerie wasn’t all that impressive. “I’m disappointed in you, Freya. I thought you would understand our need to see something happen quickly. Instead, you’re arguing that we need to have patience. To show virtue where there never has been.”
Freya scoffed. “Virtue? Patience? You’re an ancient being. A lifetime of a mortal is merely a breath for you. I’m not asking for patience. I’m asking you to wait a few heartbeats so they can fall back in love again and give you what you want.”
A single eyebrow rose and an emerald beetle crawled out of the man’s mouth. “I’m unimpressed. Your fervor for the fae is unfounded. Give up.”
Eldridge slid out behind them and yanked Leo’s limp body through the portal. They both flopped onto the mossy ground, too hard. Eldridge winced but crawled to her side while still dramatically holding himself in a low bow. “Great tree of the ancients. It’s an honor to see you again.”
“Goblin King.” Tree branches over their head shook and leaves rained down on their shoulders. “The pleasure is all mine. But, as I was telling your mortal lover, you are far too late.”
They couldn’t be. Freya wouldn’t allow that to be the truth, because that meant her father was trapped here.
She had to save him. No other ending would satisfy her.
She straightened her shoulders and glared at the dead man. “You keep saying that we’re too late, but I know that’s a lie. We are here right when we were supposed to be. And I’m not going to take no for an answer, so you’d best change your words.”
“Or what?” The dead man sat up, pushing his arms into the mossy bed and tilting his head to the side. Obviously the tree was intrigued.
Good. Let the tree be curious. Freya was going to sit here until the sun set on the world, if that’s how long it took. “Give them a chance. That’s all any of us are asking for. And all you asked for. You want them to be together, because you told me that was what you wanted. What changed?”
“Why are you fighting so hard?” He lifted a fist and opened it to reveal a tiny, glowing lightning bug. “Is it only for your father, or for some other reason?”
She wanted to argue that of course she wanted to help the Summer Court. At no point in this journey had her reasons been entirely selfish. Even when she saved her sister, it hadn’t been just for her. And yet, she couldn’t look away from the glowing light.
The light rose into the air and glittered like a mini sun that the tree had conjured up. She took a shambling step forward, lifting her arms with her fingers outstretched. Like she could somehow hold the light.
And she wanted to. What would it feel like to hold a tiny faerie in her hands? Would it make her like them? Ethereal and beautiful?
“Stop it!” Cora’s voice cut through the magic of the orb. “Stop teasing her! We aren’t monsters. We don’t do that anymore.”
Faintly, Freya heard the tree respond. “You think wisps no longer lead mortals to their doom? That kelpies no longer drown poor men who should never have tried to tame a beast? Do sirens no longer sing ships into rocks so their sailors won’t fill the ocean with blood? Cora. You’ve been on that isle for too long.”
The light was still so pretty. Freya’s entire face and body were lax, comfortable finally and at ease. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so relaxed. All her life she’d been tense, angry, looking for something that would make her feel strong when she wasn’t. The orb pulsed and her attention focused on the light.
“You will not take her from me,” a snarling voice echoed through the clearing and, in a blink, the light went out.
Dark shadows wrapped around it, holding on for dear life even as spears of brilliance broke through the magic. But the spell was broken at that moment. Freya spun away from the orb, shivering in the suddenly frigid air. Why was she so cold?
Blinking through the confusion, her vision cleared, and she saw Eldridge with his hands outstretched. His fingers had turned to black claws as he struggled to contain the ancient magic of a being far older than him. His expression twisted with rage and he shouted again, “To your father, Freya!”
She didn’t need to be told twice. Freya dove for the prison of roots and branches. Even though it was made of the tree, she didn’t think the tree itself could move. It relied on the dead things to be its voice and its armor.
Her father emerged from the shadows and caught her to his chest. “My girl,” he whispered. “What have you done?”
All the faeries in the clearing gathered together. Eldridge still held his hands in front of him, muttering words that would turn into a spell at some point. Arrow stood on his back legs, ears still flat against his skull and his teeth bared, ready to bite. Cora stood with Leo’s arm wrapped around her shoulder, and surprisingly the Summer Lord woke. Together, they weren’t exactly the most intimidating of groups, but they were all together. Standing at the ready to take on a tree that she should have stopped.
Freya pressed her palms against her father’s heart and swallowed hard. “I don’t know. I thought bringing the family together might help them talk about their differences. It would force them to listen to each other.”
“Or it will bring about the end of the Summer Court.”
They looked at each other. Two mortals stuck in the quarrel between faeries and Freya realized she should have asked her father’s opinion about all of this. He was a changeling. He’d been here far longer than she had, and he knew the fae like they were his own family.
“Did I make a mistake?” she whispered, eyes wide as she stared up at her father.
She felt like a little girl again. Freya needed her father to tell her everything was going to be alright. That she hadn’t made that big of a mistake, and look, he’d fix it for her. Just like he used to do when she was a babe, and could still fit on his hip.
But she was an adult now, and running to her father to fix her mistakes wasn’t an option.
“I don’t know,” he replied. “I suppose we should watch and see. But let’s not look at any of those glowing lights anymore.”
She had no intention of doing that again. The magic still lingered in her head, like the tree still had some control over her. Freya shuddered and stepped out of her father’s embrace. She wrapped her hands around the bars made of roots and watched as her dearest friends fought an ancient power without her.
“You will take none of them,” Eldridge called out. “You cannot force the Summer Lord to leave the throne. It was his by right.”
“I gave it to him,” the dead man snarled. “And if I want to take it away, then I will.”
To her horror, the man shifted. He reached his arm underneath him and shoved with a bony movement that should have been impossible. The corpse lifted itself out of its permanent resting place and suddenly, it was a shambling, rotting mess of a person that stepped toward the group of faeries.
The dead could walk in this forest of nightmares. And they did.
Hundreds of bodies that had once been nestled in the roots of the trees stood. They all stretched out their arms for the faeries, muttering words that sounded similar to the language Eldridge used. A spell? What kind of spell could hundreds of elves cast at the same time? Considering they were using the power of the trees, Freya could only guess that such magic would be terrifying and powerful.
The Summer Lord shook his head, casting off the curse that pained him. Or perhaps convincing himself that pain would not keep him out of this battle. Either way, he untangled himself from Cora’s arms and took a shaky step forward.
“Stop,” he called out, holding his hands out as if he alone could hold back the horde of dead. “It’s me you want. I know that. You do as well. Take me and let the others leave.”
The dead man who had been in the base of the biggest tree laughed. He still stood behind the others, either too rotten to walk or more interested in watching what was about to happen. “They came here of their own free will because they wanted to save you, Leo. I will not let them go! You did this and you will be placed in the roots of a tree where you can watch them slowly rot. I’ll make sure you have a good view.”
She couldn’t just stand here and let them argue like this. Shouting from the relative safety of her prison, Freya pleaded, “You didn’t give him enough time! This isn’t about punishing him. This is about proving you were right!”
With a flippant gesture over his shoulder, the dead man ignored what she said.
Freya knew she was correct. The tree didn’t want to be wrong, and in this instance, it was just as bad as the Summer Lord had been.
Leo took a step forward again, closer to the rotting corpses. “These are my friends and the woman I love. I will willingly give myself up to know that they are safe and alive after this is all said and done. I won’t let you take them from me.”
“You will all be together.”
“That’s not good enough.” Leo took another step, so close that one lunge would have him in the clutches of the dead. “You wanted me, and now you have me. This is my deal, or I will fight with every last bit of my magic until I die. And then you won’t get what you want after all.”
All the dead seemed to hesitate. They looked over their shoulders at the larger tree, who was suddenly very upset. The man’s face twisted in denial. “No. You can’t do that. You won’t.”
“I will,” Leo corrected. “If I don’t have them, or if Cora is to suffer this fate as well, then this isn’t a life worth living. I’m happy to take myself out of this game you so dearly love to play.”
The dead man growled, but he looked to branches overhead and sighed. “Fine, then. If that’s the deal you want, then that’s the deal you shall get.”
He snapped his fingers, and the dead moved to take Leo to his new prison. Freya couldn’t watch the man she thought of as a friend suffer that fate. He’d given himself up for all of them. If that didn’t prove he’d changed, then she didn’t know what would.
A scream blasted and Freya turned in time to see Cora throw herself in front of Leo. She held her arms outstretched, face turned away from the dead.
Everything in the clearing stopped. Time held still. Even the motes of dust stopped spinning in the air.
Freya held her breath with everything else in the clearing. She stared at the lovely Cora, who intended to sacrifice her own life for the man she loved. Just as Leo had tried to do for her.
A great sigh echoed from the tree. And suddenly all the dead turned and shambled back to their places in the trees.
What was happening?
The dead man heaved another sigh and inclined his head. “Summer Lady, you were the one I was waiting for the longest. I see you’ve made up your mind.”
“I will not let him die, if that’s what you’re asking.” Cora straightened her shoulders and looked every inch like a lady of this court. “He doesn’t deserve it.”
“Neither do you.” The dead man turned and staggered back to his own tree, where he laid down like the ancient being he was. “That’s all we wanted. To know for certain that you and the Summer Lord were truthful with each other. A party on a beach means nothing. But being willing to give up your life for each other? That’s a good sign.”
Angry visions flashed in front of Freya’s eyes. She wanted to take an axe to that ancient tree and force it to feel the same fear she and her companions had shared. This cruelty was uncalled for. Entirely.
The roots of the tree lifted and freed her and her father. They both took each other’s hands and approached the waiting faeries.
Arrow walked over to her side and held out a paw. “Sir. I’m afraid I don’t know what to call you.”
Her father smiled and took the dog’s offered paw. “Henry. You can call me Henry.”
Arrow nodded. “Well then, Henry. Why don’t we get you out of this prison and back into the sun?”
