The Woods

Chapter Thirty-Nine

We worked for hours.

While I didn't have the knowledge of the doctors, I was able to help clean and bandage the more minor wounds. And when all the less damaged people were taken care of, I made myself useful by bringing clean water and towels to the doctors. I was grateful no one asked me to hold people down while setting bones.

Throughout the day, Drake went back and forth between the catacombs and the castle, bringing the Fae back to their families once they had received medical attention. When we had done all that we could at the end of the day, he looked exhausted from the magic use.

I was also exhausted, even though my tasks weren't as draining, and I was glad when Cain led us both out of the room. He ended up bringing us both back to the castle using his magic, as Drake had none left in his system.

As soon as we arrived, Drake trudged off towards the Wolf House's side of the castle, leaving Cain and me in the hall. We walked silently, though I didn't know where.

"Any leads to who attacked?" I asked.

"You should rest." His voice was flat and I felt something twist in my chest.

I stopped walking, and after a moment he did too, turning back to me. "Please don't do that," I whispered. He closed his eyes for a heartbeat. "Don't shut me out. Last night, you just teleported away and . . . I was so afraid. I'm afraid of not knowing what's going on – I'm afraid that I can't do anything until it's too late."

He stared at me silently for a few moments, and it was only then that I registered the tears sliding down my cheeks. I didn't even have the energy to wipe them away. I felt exhausted – not just physically, but mentally, too.

Cain said nothing; he just stepped forward and pulled me into an embrace. My arms felt too heavy to return it, but I leaned against him, my shoulders shaking.

"It is a habit," he eventually said. I looked up and he pulled away slightly. "Those close to me tend to get hurt or hurt me. Keeping people out prevents both."

I suddenly remembered what happened between him and Dimah. Silently, I scolded myself – of course he had a reason to keep his secrets. I had forgotten he was the king – and it wasn't the first time.

"What are you thinking?" he asked. I just shook my head, offering him a smile. He returned it, looking somewhat relieved. "You really should rest, Fida. You've been working all day."

"And you haven't stopped since last night," I replied, gripping his hand and tugging him after me as I walked towards the dining room.

I was grateful to see that food was laid out, as if the cooks wanted to be prepared for Cain's return.

"That's not true," he said as we took our seats. "I stopped and slept for an hour or two."

I let out a huff – as if that was enough time to properly rest. But I decided food was more important than arguing and we both dug in. As I ate, I eyed the two spots that were usually occupied by Casper and Merilyn.

"I haven't seen them in a while," I commented.

Cain seemed to realise who I meant and said, "They're away on business. There are other catacombs around the Woods, not just the one from today. They have gone to do a routine check-up."

"Check-up?"

"Faeries are . . . fickle creatures. One moment, they may seem perfectly happy to follow the rules, and the next, they're purposely creating chaos. I send the others to the catacombs to sort out any issues."

I supposed that being left alone with no one watching, faeries were bound to get bored. Sending emissaries would be useful – not only to sort out trouble, but as a reminder to who was in charge. It reminded me of when Cain said he walked near the catacombs instead of using magic, giving the people a chance to see him.

Perhaps that was what needed to be done with all the attacks – find who it was and remind them who was the ruler. I thought back to the night before – that thing I felt. Was that the attacker?

"What's wrong?" Cain asked, frowning slightly.

"Last night, there was . . . something in the castle," I said quietly. He stiffened but nodded for me to continue. "I don't know what it was – I could just feel it." He was silent for a moment and I saw his knuckled were white as he gripped his utensils. Almost as if he was realising something. "You know something?"

"Before I left, I put a warding spell around your room." His voice was deathly quiet. Silent fury, I realised. "I don't know what the thing you sensed was, but I checked for the ward just now and it was . . . dented in a way. Something tried to get past it."

I paled, taking in his words. Something had tried to get to me? What on earth would the creature – or the attacker – want with me? I nibbled my lip, trying to think.

"I overheard you and Merilyn the night I was sent back," I said slowly. Though it was barely noticeable, he flinched. "You said someone was trying to send a message with the vine attacks. Who was that? Could they be the one doing all of this?"

"We thought at the time that Maalik was trying to influence the Woods to act. He knew you hadn't been killed, and we thought that perhaps he was trying to tell us to kill you or he would act against us. However, I spoke to him about it and he knows nothing. He even allowed me to use my magic on him to test if he was lying."

I slumped in my chair. So, we had no leads, then. "How do you live like this? Always with a target on your back." It might have been an insensitive thing to say, but . . . there was no other way to put it. To not trust anyone close to you or fear that someone you have known for years could suddenly stab you in the back would be an awful life.

Cain was silent for a while, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. "I don't think of it as any way but normal," he finally replied. "I suppose I just learnt over the years never to let my guard down. It almost got me killed a few times. But . . . even if someone does manage to kill me and take the throne, I can trust Henry to clean up the mess."

It took a moment for me to realise Henry was Lord Cawther. So, he did know about the lord's power. And Cain also seemed to see the power as a failsafe – a last resort.

"Does it get lonely?" I finally asked.

"It used to," he murmured, staring out of the window. "But now . . . not so much."

***

We both ended up going to our rooms soon afterwards. And despite how exhausted I felt, sleep did not come easily to me. For hours, I drifted in and out of sleep.

In my dreams, I saw flashes of a creature – bloodshot eyes, matted fur covered in scars, bloodied claws. Breathing became difficult as I slept, and each time I saw a part of the creature, I jolted awake, only to have sleep claim me moments later.

But the next time I dreamt, the creature and I stood face-to-face. Seeing individual parts was one thing, but when put together . . . it was a gruesome, horrifying mess. It looked like a mutated wolf, covered in scars and blood. But it was much, much larger than a wolf.

I felt its hot breath on my face, reeking of carrion. I gagged; the smell was so real. The creature's dead eyes bore into my own and I was too frightened to move. It made no move – it just stared and stared at me.

I awoke with a start, my breathing uneven. I could still smell it. It seemed to burn my nostrils. So real, the dream-

I turned onto my side and froze. Dead eyes stared back at me.

The creature was real. It was real and it stood next to my bed, its eyes seeming to taunt me.

I screamed.