“I had to get out,” he said. “The forest it…it plays with the mind, muddles my senses.” He looked out into the Phantom Wood behind her with a boyish wonder in his eyes, a deep curiosity that she didn’t like.
“I had hoped to see you yesterday,” she fluidly changed the conversation. “Where did you get off to?”
“I went back to the monastery to study the texts some more.”
“Oh?” Her heart picked up in rhythm as she asked. “Did you find anything of interest?”
“Actually,” he started, and Oriana thought her heart might jump straight through her chest as she anticipated his next words. “I’ve begun to form a sort of theory. I found an old scroll from the first attack of the White Demon. Then, they called it the Red Woman.”
Oriana bit her lip to stop any sort of emotion from crossing over her features.
“It seems you were right about the demon possibly being female.” He raised an eyebrow at her and she masked her features, remaining a blank wall as he looked down at her.
“So, what exactly is your theory?”
“Well, it seems the first time the demon attacked was on the blood moon some seven centuries ago, and then it came back the next full moon to attack again. That same evening after the second attack, it says that the Phantom Wood just…appeared. That is why it is called Phantom. They mentioned it like a shadow sweeping through the town and in its wake stood the strange wood. I believe the demon and the wood are connected in some way. It’s the only logical explanation for the timing of the events. And it has stayed here ever since, the demon inside just biding its time until the next blood moon.”
Oriana swallowed audibly. When they were in the monastery, she had spent most of her time placing enchantments over each mention of her within the texts. Anywhere she saw White Demon or Phantom Wood mentioned, she had enchanted the book to hide the pages. But she obviously should have gone back, scoured through each of the old books and scrolls to eradicate every mention there was of her.
This man was far too intelligent. Damn it. She needed to do something to stop his search. It was fruitless, after all. He could never defeat the demon, for she could not die. The curse prevented her skin from even being pierced, preventing any harm from coming to her. And in the end, she knew that if he went up against her, her bloodlust would destroy him, and she couldn't let that happen either.
Oriana was torn from her thoughts when Garren suddenly said. “I know you go into the forest.”
“What?” The question came out like a harsh bite.
“A boy in the market told me. It sounded like he has seen you go into the forest on more than one occasion.” His tone wasn’t accusatory as much as it was curious.
“I–I,” Oriana stammered, scrambling to come up with an excuse, some believable story as to why she would have been seen, but her mind was empty. “I do,” she finally conceded.
The lies and secrets were becoming more daunting each time she spoke with this man. “I often like to come here, actually, to watch the water and storms swirling out in the sea.”
“So, you are able to come here, and you haven’t told anyone else?”
“What use would it be? These waters are impassable. It would be a death sentence for anyone to try.”
Garren paused, looked out at the rough seas beyond, and said, “Those boys I spoke to in the market, they didn’t even know what a sea was.”
Oriana observed his shoulders sagging as a sadness settled over him, his body withering at the words.
“Garren,” she said, placing a gentle touch on his arm and letting her fingers trail down to his large calloused hand. “The people here don’t wish to leave. They like their lives here; they have no desire to travel outside of the forest.”
“How do you know?” His voice was barely audible.
Because I have tried, she wanted to say, but couldn’t. She had tried so many times over the years, but anyone she offered it to refused. Every single time, they all refused to go. They didn’t want to go. And even if they all did, the monster would still need to kill. It craved carnage like a thirsty man craved water. It would just find its way to the next town as it had in the past when Sardorf was inflicted with the fever.
At least those in Sardorf knew she was coming. It was a part of their history; she was a part of their history. They had plans, ways of minimizing the death toll, and with each blood moon, there had been less bloodshed, less death.
“I wish to free them,” he finally said, walking to where he had left his discarded shirt, leathers, and weapons, donning them all once again. “That is why I have decided to stay until the next blood moon. I am determined to rid this village and these people of the demon that plagues them once and for all. And just maybe, once I’ve killed it, this strange forest will fall away with it.”
Oriana’s eyes went wide. You fool, she screamed in her head. He didn’t know what would happen. He would die if he stayed, and the forest would never come down. Even once the darkness consumed her, the enchantments would all remain. They had already been solidified, set into motion. They would not come down unless she brought them down herself. They would stay for eternity once this side of her was swallowed whole by the bloodlust, at least she hoped they would.
“Actually,” he said, pulling free the longer of the two swords strapped across his back. The blade sang, vibrating through the air with a hum that she could almost physically feel wash over her. Strange. “I want to try something.”
Garren swung his blade and hacked at the nearest tree.
“Garren!” she yelled. “What are you doing? You will shatter your blade.” But in merely four powerful swings, he had cut the tree just enough, a large wedge of wood missing from its base, and all she could do was watch in amazement as Garren kicked the trunk and it toppled toward the cliffs.
Garren, however, was not watching the tree as it fell. His eyes were fixed intently upon the stump.
