As though she feels me watching her, Irena wakes and looks up at me. Her big silver-green eyes are sleepy at first…then understanding rushes into them and she pushes away from me.
“What are you doing? Let me go!” she demands at once.
I sit up and hold up my hands in a “don’t shoot” gesture.
“You’re the one who came to me last night—or did you forget, Princess?”
“I…I didn’t mean to. I was just cold.” She looks away.
I lift my eyebrows skeptically.
“Of course you were. That’s why you snuggled up against me like a little pet bunny all night long. That’s why you came when I bit you.”
“How dare you say such vile things?” Her cheeks get red with a mixture of rage and shame.
I can’t help smiling at her reaction. I don’t know why I like provoking her like this—maybe it’s because she’s so certain she’s above me. But she wasn’t so far above me last night when she came in my arms, moaning and shaking.
“I dare because it’s true, sweetheart,” I tell her. “Now come on—let’s get packed and get going. We need to make the most of the daylight.”
I cut us both a stale piece of bread for breakfast—it’s not much but we need to conserve our limited food supplies. I’m not sure how far into the forest the Sorceress’s stronghold is. Then, with Irena still fuming behind me, we head for the entrance to Thornmere.
Just outside the huge trees, beside the dusty path, someone has placed a signpost. I stop to read it and frown—it seems to be some kind of warning.
“Rules of the Forest,” it says at the top, and then lists ridiculous rules that make no sense. “Rule one—Keep to the Path. Rule two—Speak no Names. Rule three—Break no Boughs,” I read aloud.
“Rule four—Heed no Voices,” Irena finishes for me and shivers. “It’s just like the man back at the inn said. He said not to listen to anyone calling your name—because it isn’t the person you think who’s calling you.”
The rules make me uneasy for a moment, but I brush them off.
“Superstitious bullshit,” I growl. “Come on—let’s go.”
But Irena hangs back, her face pale.
“I don’t know…”
“What are you talking about?” I demand impatiently. “The sooner we go through the forest, the sooner we can find the Sorceress and convince her to make a Healing Draught for your mother. Then I can take you home and be free of this fucking collar which only the touch of your royal little hand can unlock.”
“The Healing Draught—of course.” She straightens her spine and throws back her shoulders. I can see the determination filling her pretty face.
I feel a burst of reluctant admiration. My curvy little Princess is frightened to enter Thornmere, but willing to do anything she has to in order to heal her mother—even put herself into what she believes might be mortal danger.
I wish I had a woman who cared that much for me.
We enter the forest and the brilliant morning sunlight dims immediately. Here and there rays of it pierce the thick canopy of the forest and fall like puddles of gold to the dusty path, but for the most part, it’s dim and stuffy inside of Thornmere. The rich scent of the forest—dirt, plants, and decayed leaves—fills my nose and it almost feels like the ancient, gnarled trees that surround us are leaning in to get closer.
I ignore the sensation and stroll ahead. The dusty brown path seems to wind ahead of us forever—we need to make a dent in this before darkness falls again. I don’t care what the weird old signpost said—I won’t let a fucking forest get the better of me.
32
IRENA
Valen seems completely unconcerned by Thornmere, but it must be an act. I can feel the prickle of magic all around us—it’s like a thousand tiny invisible hands plucking at my skin and hair. This forest is alive—and it’s watching us, waiting for us to make a mistake.
I don’t intend to make one. I’m going to get straight through these woods to the Sorceress and find a cure for my mother.
But my certainty weakens after a few long hours of walking. My dancing slippers weren’t made for this kind of rough usage—I can feel every rock and tree root in the dusty brown path. Also, I’m getting extremely hungry. The slice of stale bread Valen and I both had for breakfast wasn’t very sustaining. He says we need to wait and save our food for nightfall, in case we’re still on the path at that point, but I’m hungry now.
Just as I’m thinking that and my stomach is growling in a most unladylike way, I see something by the side of the path—it’s a bramble vine with long, sharp thorns. But hidden among the greenish-black leaves and long brown thorns I see hints of deep purple—bramble berries! They’re as big as my thumb and bursting with juicy ripeness.
