She couldn’tstopsmiling. These women at her back, these womenflying across the beach at her orders—they were all so strong and fearsome, and they were all Roses. Like she would be. Like shewas.
May your bones always know the way home.As Mara whirled into battle, flanked by hollering Roses, the fleeting thought came that maybe, if she couldn’t return to Ivyhill, the priory wouldn’t be such a terrible prison after all. Maybe, someday, it could even feel like home.
It was the last thought she had before a great inky blackness swooped across her vision—jagged and dark, like feathers spread wide—and the world around her disappeared.
***
When Mara came to, she was in the trees.Highin the trees. The stars were closer, the air quieter. Quickly she assessed her surroundings: she was on a sturdy wooden platform affixed to a pine’s thick trunk. An Olden pine, fatter and taller than any she had ever seen. The cold air brushed across her skin with a sensation like someone was painting her with silver fire. On her tongue, the taste of smoke. Olden magic, ripe and swollen.
And she was not alone.
A dark figure perched on the platform’s edge, looking out over the world.
“I need your help, Mara,” it said.
The Warden.Mara recognized her at once, though her voice was deeper now, rounder, like bells so huge and old that their chimes could shake the earth.
The Warden raised her long feathered arm.Feathered, with curling talons and iridescent bird down that gleamed in the moonlight.
Mara’s breath caught. The Warden had transformed into her avian form, as Roses did during battle.Realbattle, against real Olden enemies. Mara wondered what it looked like when a Rose transformed from woman to bird. She had always wondered.
Mara approached the Warden slowly, her heart beating at the back of her throat, her mouth dry. She thought of her father’s voice. She would fear, but she would not be afraid. Fear could be helpful; it warned, it advised. She forced her racing mind to slow down and observe. Yes, here was the Warden, crouched on the platform’s edge like one of Ivyhill’s grinning gargoyles. Her gown was gone; in its place was the naked skin of a pale woman and the feathers of a great dark bird. Her hair flowed loose and wild. Fierce black feathers framed her golden eyes.
Owl.The resemblance was obvious.
The Warden was pointing down at the beach below. Tiny bonfire, tiny darting shapes. A faint chimera yowl. The answering holler of a Rose.
“You did well,” the Warden said. “Look at all of them fighting together. Seasoned Roses and raw recruits. Fresh little buds. They’re frightened, yet they fight.” The Warden’s head swiveled unnaturally as she turned to stare at Mara. “You did that, Mara. You gave them orders, made them brave. Instead of desperately fighting everything that looked like an enemy, you had the nerve to ask for help. Many would have died without you. Now all of them live. How does that make you feel?”
Mara pried her gaze from the scene below and forced herself to meet the Warden’s unblinking stare. “Proud,” she replied. Her blood ran hot and fast under her skin. “And happy.”
“Happy. Do you enjoy violence, Mara?”
“I am a warrior. A hunter.”Like my father before me, she thought, with a pang of homesickness. “I’m good at fighting. I like doing it.” She paused. She sensed that it was wise to be careful. “And I’m happy that everyone survived the trials. We’ll all be Roses now. Isn’t that right?”
The Warden cocked her head. “Fierce child. The trials have only just begun. Look, out there on the water. What do you see?”
Mara obeyed. Waves churned at the shore, where the elemental Roses battled the titan. Beyond that, a raft drifted steadily across the water. When Mara squinted, she saw a single figure atop it—a girl with auburn hair.
Petra.
Mara’s stomach turned. “I don’t understand. Where is Petra going? Why is she alone? I told her to take the other humans out onto the lake.”
The Warden did not answer.
Mara looked to the pier, and what she saw froze her blood. The other four humans—the girls Petra had been tasked with protecting—remained huddled on the pier’s edge, abandoned. Mara’s sharp sentinel hearing brought her a desperate sound. One of the girls on the pier was calling after Petra with a sob in her voice, pleading with her to come back. Petra hadleftthem there.
“Petra is very brave,” Mara said calmly. She did not feel calm. “I don’t know why she left the others, but there must be a good reason. Maybe she’s going for help.”
The Warden hummed quietly. “These are Olden forests. Help is rare and comes at a cost.”
“She’s trying to distract the titan, then.”
“That titan doesn’t care about one lone girl when he has a whole beach full of people to entertain him. Perhaps,” she added delicately, “Petra thought too many girls would sink the raft, or that she was safer on her own. One girl on a raft is surely less appealing to a titan than four girls stuck on a pier.”
“She’s just afraid,” Mara offered. She curled her fingers around the ends of her sleeves. “There’s nothing wrong with fear, and of course she’s afraid. You’re making us fight monsters.”
“True. But I don’t see you paddling away, leaving the others to fend for themselves.”
