“Why should I bargain with the likes of you?” The Lady curled her lip. “You are nothing to me.”
“Nothing? I am nothing? You ungrateful bitch. I worshipped you. I sacrificed everything to you. I gave you my whole family. I gave you my second born. I have lost everything because of you.”
Lucien reached for his mother’s arm, but she swatted it away. A cold laugh escaped the Lady’s lips as she tilted her head and regarded Daphne like a petulant child.
“You never worshipped me. A sacrifice must be made with the intent to give something to your god to repay them for all they have done and will do for you. You killed them for iron. That is a trade, nota sacrifice.” A cold smile curled her lips. “You hold no reverence for me, and I have none for you. I traded with you out of courtesy, but make no mistake, you worship trade, not me. And I will not bargain with you.”
Daphne’s breast heaved as she bared her teeth at the Lady and pulled the trigger. The gunshot rang like canon fire in the silent woods. Oliver flattened against the tree as Will trembled and Lucien instinctively backed away from his mother. The Dysterwood held its breath, waiting for the Lady to move. A hole opened in her bodice, pouring out starlight and shadow. Before Daphne could get off a second shot, the aether shuddered, and the Lady stretched, her body and face dissolving into shadow and flames of foxfire until she towered over them. When she spoke, her voice cracked and frizzled like ice.
“Did you think you could kill a god as you killed your kin? Perhaps you should join them.”
Oliver’s grey eyes went wide as the water around the paths stirred. Fear and foreboding pounded in his breast when the first pale hand broke from the water. Jarngren after Jarngren rose from the bog. Water streamed down their faces and ran in rivulets from their muck-stained clothes. The breath caught in Felipe’s chest at the children who stood among the legion of adults with their throats slit. When Daphne opened her mouth in a scream, the dead moved as one.
“Mother, no!” Lucien cried, lunging to help her. Felipe grabbed him, pain surging through his arm and stomach as Lucien fought him. Before he could break from his hold, Will threw himself in front of his cousin. He covered Lucien’s face and whispered soothing nothings even as Daphne’s screams turned to wet gurgles. By the time she fell silent and the dead retreated, Lucien had sunk to the rotted boards with his head in his hands, and Will looked as if he had glimpsed hell.
***
Oliver’s hands shook as Felipe cut the roots from his arms. Daphne Stills was gone. His brain refused to acknowledge what he saw, but deep down, he knew she deserved it. She killed so many people, and for what? It wasn’t even for the factory or the workers. She had done it for her. As he rubbed his wrists, Oliver watched the Lady coalesce back into something approximately human, apart from the trail of shadow bleeding onto her dress. Oliver drew in a steadying breath. They still had one more bargain to make. Glancing at his mother, Oliver did a doubletake. Where her gnarled hand had once been clutching the wound, it now held the hilt of the ivory dagger.
As if sensing his thoughts, the Lady turned toward him. “Do you know why I agreed to your mother’s bargain?”
“No, ma’am.”
A sharp smile played on her lips. “When I agreed to become the Lady of the Dysterwood, I thought your ancestors would build a town that would worship me. Instead, they kept me to themselves. They stifled me. A god needs worship and sacrifice to have any real power. Your mother’s desperation allowed me to spread my roots. She gave me powers I could never have on my own all in exchange for your protection in my woods. Her magic flows through me and I through her. Humanity yearns for immortality, and she comes as close as any.” As the Lady stepped closer, she stretched until she towered over Oliver and Felipe. “Aldorhaven has started to understand my power, but you—youwill tell everyone of the Lady of the Dysterwood. You will tell themIhave dominion over the living and the dead. You have seen it with your own eyes. You will submit to me again, ringbearer. You will tell them that if they worship me and give me my due, I will give them everything they could ever need.”
Felipe gave Oliver a sidelong look and clasped his hand. A cult— the Lady of the Dysterwood wanted a cult. That might work in their favor. When the Lady returned to her normal size, Oliver fought to speak.
“I was hoping I could ask you for something. It’s much smaller than anything my mother or ancestors asked of you.”
She narrowed her eyes. “A family trait it seems. Go on.”
“I have never met any of my parents, and I would like to meet my mother. I would like her freed from the tree,” he clarified.
“And what do you think you can offer me?”
Oliver resisted the urge to quail under the Lady’s stare. “In exchange, I would like to formally dissolve any covenants you made with my family. No more iron or wood, and no constraints the Jarngrens put on you. I get to meet my mother, and you get the freedom to spread your roots.”
Will made a strangled noise behind Lucien.Trust me, Oliver silently pleaded as the Lady gave him a curious onceover.
“You know you can’t have her back. She can never be a parent to you.”
“I know. I said I would like to meet her, not possess her.”
“You have half an hour. Then, she’s back in the tree.”
“In exchange for dissolving all the covenants my family made.”
The Lady’s eyes gleamed at the prospect. “You have a deal.”
Oliver held his breath as the oak shifted. Bark smoothed and lightened into pale flesh as Joanna Jarngren peeled away from the trunk inch by inch. She staggered into the bog on shaking legs, taking a step for the first time in nearly forty years, but the resolve in her eyes hardened as she tightened her grip on the dagger. When the Lady bent to pluck Felipe’s ring from the muck, his mother stalked towards her. Can you kill a god? Only if you have become a god yourself. The dagger gleamed in her hand as she raised it high above her head and plunged it down. Felipe grabbed Oliver’s hand and hauled him around the far side of the tree. He was no longer protected in the Dysterwood, and they had to get out of the Lady’s sight.
Oliver jerked and covered his ears at the primal screams that ripped from the Lady’s throat. Felipe’s arms bracketed him as the Dysterwood trembled. Water lapped against their trousers, and the boards clacked into each other as the sky wavered between night and day. Oliver wrapped his arms around Felipe as a wave of energy blew through the Dysterwood. The hyphae exploded from the tree,raining down on them, and the ground beneath their feet rocked as the tree groaned and listed backwards. They stumbled back into the icy water. It flooded through Oliver’s clothes and dragged him down, but before he could sink, roots hauled him up. He grabbed Felipe’s hand as Will coaxed them back to the path on a bed of peat and roots. Oliver braced himself, waiting for the Lady to smite them when Will helped him to his feet, but she was gone. Where she had once stood there was only an ivory knife and a smoldering pile of pine tar and shadow. Relief washed over Oliver as he crushed Felipe to his chest. His partner was cold and wet and holding his injured arm stiffly, but he was safe. Guilt welled in Oliver’s breast as he scanned the glade and found Lucien staring numbly at the water.
“He’ll be okay eventually,” Felipe offered, squeezing his shoulder. “Do you want to meet your mother?”
He wasn’t sure he could. His mother had bartered her life to save his and had accidentally become something more. She was a god-killer or a god now, in her own way, and being his mother paled in comparison to all of that. After thirty-seven years, he wasn’t even sure she would remember him or care about him beyond that he freed her from the Lady’s hold. No, she had loved him once, dearly, and he wanted to say goodbye and ask her for a favor.
“Come with me?”
