As Kaden led me away from the manor, the trees grew older and more gnarled, with trunks too wide for my arms to encircle. A thick carpet of moss blanketed the forest floor, dampening our footsteps until we reached a clearing where a single tree stood apart from the rest.
Its branches cast so much shade during the day that no other trees could grow near it. The full moon was bright enough to illuminate the clearing, with skeins of silvery light spilling from between the branches.
The yew’s trunk was so large that three Kadens could have stood inside. Twisted limbs sagged to the ground, and tendrils of green moss hung from them like wisps of hair, blowing gently in the breeze.
I felt a crackle of old magic that reminded me of the Great Oak, and when I heard a distant rustle in the bushes, my heart nearly punched out of my chest.
“It’s only the wood nymphs,” said Kaden, reaching down to give my hand a reassuring squeeze.
He nodded at a fallen log that was partially consumed by spongy green moss, and when I looked over, I caught a pair of verdant eyes beaming at me through the dark. Allaround us, I could hear the murmur of voices and the patter of tiny feet.
Then they began to chant.
The nymphs’ voices were surprisingly low for such small creatures. Bodies undulated in the moonlight, clad in the same style of mossy clothing that Fione wore, and I realized they were all dancing to the rhythm of the eerie chorus.
The wind picked up to accompany their chanting, filling my ears with the hiss of leaves scraping together and the soft groan of heavy branches swaying overhead. Their shadows swept over the clearing, moving in time with the wind or the song. I couldn’t tell which was leading.
Then I realized the breeze had stopped. The wood nymphs were still chanting and dancing, their strange green markings winking in the night as they moved in a lithe rhythm that filled me with a strange, restless energy.
Strands of pure moonlight peeled from the shadows, twisting and writhing to the music of the forest itself. The silvery ribbons fanned out across the clearing, twining around my arms and legs and the trunk of the enormous yew tree.
Looking over at Kaden, I found him staring at me in rapture. I understood why. Strands of gleaming silver had wound around him too, gilding his midnight hair and illuminating his skin with an otherworldly glow.
A deafeningcracksounded from behind me, and I whipped around. Dazzling light flooded into the clearing, and I realized the same silver glow was emanating from cracks in the yew tree’s bark, which stretched and yawned as though it might burst.
It crackled and groaned, and then that silver light seemed to collect, forming into a tall male body. Hetowered over me and Kaden, glistening with an intensity that forced me to squint.
The woods fell silent as the being solidified, and the nymphs ceased their monotonous chanting. The male’s body was light made solid, his muscular naked form almost too bright to look at. Lush curls tumbled all the way to his shoulders, and his eyes were a solid mass of silver, devoid of any pupil.
This had to be Gninou, god of knowledge and life.
When the male spoke, his voice boomed out over the clearing, making my teeth rattle. “Kaden, son of Elowynn. And Lyra, Daughter of Two Realms. It pleases me that you have placed yourself at my mercy.”
Kaden bristled. I knew he balked at the idea of being atanyone’smercy — even a god’s.
“We come seeking knowledge,” I interjected before he could open his beautiful mouth.
Gninou inclined his head, his eerie silver eyes flashing.
“I have been to visit the Three that dwell beneath the Great Oak,” I said, my voice shaking despite my resolve. “Morta, the third sister, no longer wields the hands of death. They were severed by Semphrys, the demon king.”
“And you wish to understand how you may restore her hands and end the Dark King’s existence.”
“Yes,” I said, my voice coming out hoarse and breathless.
“Knowledge is both a blessing and a burden,” Gninou replied. “You cannot have one without the other. If it is knowledge that you seek, then it is knowledge you must receive, along with its triumphs and tragedies.”
“What does that mean?” I rasped, looking to Kaden for clarification.
“It means he will tell us something we do not wish to know before he tells us how to restore the Death Bringer’s hands.”
I swallowed, staring up at the brilliant deity. Gninou wanted to tell us something we’d rathernotknow?
Somehow, I couldn’t fathom how knowledge could be a curse — not with all the unanswered questions burning inside me.
“What is the nature of this burden you intend to foist upon us?” Kaden asked, an edge of irritation in his voice.
“You will receive the gift of my knowledge before I share that which you seek.”
