The Woods

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Cain offered me time to take whatever belongings I wanted before we left, but I knew there was nothing left for me there. I fastened the necklace around my neck and slipped the small painting of my parents into my pocket before turning to Cain.

"There's something I need to do," I said quietly. He nodded and silently followed me as I began making my way towards the graveyard. No one was walking through the streets, other than a few people by the bar, but Cain covered his ears beneath his hood, in turn casting shadows over his face.

When I found Father's grave, I dropped onto my knees before it and bowed my head. Cain, after reading the name on the stone, lowered his head slightly; a significant move for a king to make.

I didn't know what to say as I stared at the base of the grave. Before I could even open my mouth, a sob rose in my throat, which I could barely muffle.

"Thank you," I eventually murmured. "I know you had your reasons for not telling me, and I'm upset that you didn't. But thank you for keeping it silent." Part of me was furious about the secrets, but another part was glad. If I had known, I likely would have told Delilah or done something that would turn the town against me.

"How long did you have with him?" Cain asked quietly.

"Just a few minutes," I whispered. "Part of me is glad I was sent back, just so I could see him one last time."

He was silent, and though I could barely see his face, I thought I saw a glint of sadness in his eyes. I wondered how long it had been since he saw his own parents.

I rose, giving the grave a final look, before turning to Cain. He held out a hand to me, which I silently took, and together we walked towards the edge of the Woods. After a few steps, I knew the town was gone, but I did not look back to see.

***

The Woods was silent; too silent for comfort. Every now and then, I heard a soft slithering sound and saw vines moving lazily. I shuddered as I remembered them grabbing me, but they didn't approach. Perhaps Cain's presence scared them off. His hand still grasped mine firmly as if letting go would separate us.

"A girl was taken by the Woods," I said quietly.

"I heard," he replied. "Casper all but yelled it at me when he found out."

"She was twelve." He turned to me; his eyes wide. So, he didn't know.

"I have never heard of such a thing happening." His brow had furrowed but he made no further comment. He seemed more withdrawn as we walked, as if something distracted him. He seemed to notice my expression. "The Woods listens. It whispers everything back to its master."

I frowned. "The Woods has a master? But if you are the king, wouldn't it be you?"

"Yes and no," he replied. "I rule over the inhabitants of the Woods, including the man who controls the Woods. However, the Woods is . . . sentient, I suppose. It obeys only its master's will."

I nodded, though it still seemed unusual to me. It did explain why the people were being attacked by the Woods – as king, Cain wouldn't do that intentionally. But did that make its master evil? Was Cain attempting to do anything to stop him? I would ask him later, I decided.

We walked on in silence, and soon ended up in an area with faeries roaming the Woods. Their beady black eyes watched us before they disappeared. I glanced around, wondering how they could vanish so quickly, my eyes eventually landing on several holes on the ground, scattered amongst the trees.

Catacombs. I almost jumped at the sound of Cain's voice in my head, and he squeezed my hand. His face remained passive, but something told me that his voice wasn't just my imagination. He must've spoken to me mind-to-mind. Perhaps that also supported the idea of me having at least a little magic in my veins.

I shuddered; the idea still off-putting to me.

It was maybe an hour later that we reached the castle, and I felt a rush of relief in my veins. Cain might have known the Woods well, having lived for thousands of years, but being in it brought the thoughts of being trapped forever.

The guards bowed at Cain, opening the doors to let us in. It was only when we were inside that he let my hand go.

"I believe Casper and Merilyn are in the parlour." That was all he said before he led me there. As we walked, I heard the distant echo of music and laughter drifting down the hallway. It was likely a party of some sort. "It's Celaine's birthday," Cain explained.

"How old is she?"

"Eighteen." I blinked. I had never realised she was so young; all this time, she was younger than me. I thought back to the times her father had attempted to marry her off and cringed. She had barely come of age when he started looking for a husband for her. As if she was nothing but a prize to sell off.

Before I could ask anything else, we had arrived, and I looked up to see Merilyn and Casper lounging on a couch. Both of them were half-asleep, leaning against one another for support. As soon as they saw us, they perked up.

"I thought you were just checking the border," Casper said, glancing between us. Merilyn seemed to be unsure of how to react; she looked both relieved and upset to see me. I couldn't blame her – after all, they thought it was my presence that caused Casper to be attacked.

"Why is she here?" Merilyn asked carefully.

"Fida is demi-Fae," Cain replied. He went to sit on the couch opposite them, and I silently followed, waiting for their reaction.

"It . . . certainly explains a lot." Casper let out a breath, narrowing his eyes at me. "Who was her mother?" Of course, from going through my memories, they should know my father was human.

"Ash."

Casper dropped his teacup, hissing as it smashed on the floor, while Merilyn just gaped at us. It was Merilyn who spoke first.

"She escaped him." I couldn't read her expression, but after letting out a breath, her face was passive once more. "Is she dead?"

"The town burned her sixteen years ago," I said quietly. Merilyn closed her eyes for a heartbeat, her lips pursed. When she opened her eyes, they shone with tears.

"So, what do we do?" Casper asked, setting his hand on Merilyn's knee.

Cain sipped at his tea, looking thoughtful. "We need to figure out what magic Fida has. I have never seen a demi-Fae before; demi-faerie, perhaps, but even they are rare. If there ever were any demi-Fae that existed, we need to visit the eldest of our kind. Perhaps he knows."

Both Merilyn and Casper stared at him with wide eyes and glanced between them. For this man to be the oldest of their kind . . . Cain and Casper were over two thousand. How old would he have to be? Who was he?

"I told you about the master of the Woods," Cain said, turning to me. "He is said to be older than the Woods itself. If anyone knows about demi-Fae, it'll be him."

"His apprentice gives me the creeps," Merilyn muttered. "You do realise that neither of us is going with you, Cain. It will just be the two of you."

He nodded, as if expecting her reaction. "We will leave in a few days." He glanced at me, likely realising I was exhausted. "Fida, you should go rest; your room hasn't been touched."

I knew it had also been a hint that he wanted to talk to the others alone, so I nodded and bid them goodnight before slipping from the room. I began to make my way towards my room, the weight of the day's events hitting me all at once. I truly was exhausted.

When I reached my room, I was too tired to change, so I collapsed onto the bed, still in my mother's dress. I was asleep before my head even hit the pillow.