Maren shut the door behind her with a snap. Cora hovered in the center of her room, biting the skin on the side of her nails, trembling.
"Are you okay?" she asked, resting her hand on Cora's shoulder.
"Maren…" Cora shuddered. "What if they were talking about it?"
Maren blinked, unsure of what Cora meant.
"That…thing from the dream."
Maren met Cora's gaze. She wanted to tell Cora it was just a dream. That she had nothing to be afraid of, but between the dream, Selma, and the Stranger and the Queen…it was too much to be a coincidence.
Maren pondered over it in her mind, replaying every word that was uttered from the queen's lips, etching it into her memory.
Maren gripped Cora's shoulders, doing her best to steady her.
"Whatever it is, it's going to be okay," Maren said. "We are in this together."
Cora wrapped her arms around herself, not looking at Maren.
"I'm sorry." Cora whispered. "I don't know what's wrong with me lately."
"You've said that already." Maren replied, her voice kind but firm. "I don't want another apology. I want you to stop running away from me. We can handle this — all of this — but only if we do it as a team."
Cora nodded, and Maren thought she could see the resolve in her eyes.
"And," Maren continued, her eyes sparkling. "If we're prepared."
Her eyes passed across each object of Cora's room, looking for where she might have hidden the stone. Then, she turned toward Cora.
"Where's the stone?" She asked.
Cora blinked, "Maren, I'm not sure if it's a good idea. It's different from a normal memory stone. You don't just know what happened. You feel…everything — as if it were your own. I can still feel Elena's terror in that room."
"Still," Maren said, "I need to do this. You've done enough. Now it's my turn."
Cora sighed, slipped her hand into her pocket, and pulled out the stone.
"You kept this thing on you?" Maren asked.
Cora nodded. "I have this odd fear that if I let it out of my sight, it may disappear."
Maren furrowed her brows and Cora simply said, "Harriet."
"I'll keep it safe," Maren said, her palm extended.
"Just make sure you keep it hidden," Cora said. "Harriet told me the Court is arriving tomorrow. One of them is bound to notice this thing. Thirteen will take it away without so much as hearing us out."
"I promise," Maren held out her other palm, grinning up at Cora.
With a doubtful look, Cora placed the stone in Maren's hand. She expected a magic hum, and the familiar sting of foreign magic, but none came.
No glow.
No call.
Had the stone not glowed that night — had it not called to her — Maren wasn't sure she ever would have found it.
***
Maren went back to her room almost immediately after she retrieved the stone. Leah brought her supper to the room, and Maren prepared for bed.
She was something of a scholar — always caught with her head stuck somewhere between a book and the clouds. She had magic, she could feel it coursing in her veins.
But this was different. /
Her own magic was weak compared to some of the greats, and she knew it. When Maren's power first awakened, it didn't feel like enough. It felt like she was a cup, not even a quarter of the way full. But no matter how hard she practiced, or the frequency, her magic simply would not grow.
Twelve had told her stories of the Starblessed Queens, and their incredible magic, all slightly different in their own way.
But Maren was always disappointed in her own power. She could heal others — to an extent. With physical ailments, she could rapidly heal small cuts and bruises, but never completely. For illnesses, she could lessen the symptoms, make their pain bearable, but never fully heal them. And on her own, she only healed slightly faster than the normal person.
She thought her power was near useless.
And so this stone —- this supposed dream she would receive —- was exciting to her.
It was real magic.
Maren tucked herself into bed, pulled the covers over herself, and let her mind drift between the stars and the earth.
***
At first, the world was dark.
Maren was asleep, and then she was suddenly aware that she was dreaming, though her eyes remained closed. She felt the steady rise and fall of her chest, listening to the sound of her own breath as it mingled with the sounds around her.
Sunlight warmed her skin, and the grass where she rested. Birds chirped overhead, and cicadas groaned. Somewhere nearby, the bushes rustled as squirrels chased one another. A gentle breeze brushed her skin, cool with the remnants of winter.
This was spring.
Elena's memory of spring.
Maren could feel her power immediately. Her awareness was instinctive — the way she sensed every living thing in her vicinity. She felt them energetically, like currents of light, moving and shifting all around her, alive in a way Maren had never known. The presence of the trees, the grass, insects and birds each pulsed with their own distinct light.
Elena was connected to each of them, not through physical means, but through some spiritual connection.
She breathed with the earth around her, matching her rhythm to the gentle hum of the land. She inhaled with the trees, feeling its energy from the roots, lifting through the trunk. And when she exhaled, it was like a bloom of magical energy, more exhilarating and profound than anything Maren had experienced.
"Elenore!" A voice called.
The connection cut.
Elena sighed, opening her eyes to the world.
It was a swamp of sorts, but she rested in a grassy, sunlit patch. The mangroves twisted and turned, their roots mangling together, disappearing beneath the brown water.
Then, Maren felt something rustling beneath Elena's skin. The sensation felt wrong, and was enough to make Maren's stomach lurch but she felt very clearly that Elena didn't so much as flinch.
Elena lifted her arm, and beneath the skin of her forearm, something moved. A soft light, shifting in shades of pink and green, its glow outlined by the dark ink of a hummingbird tattoo.
"I know you want to stay out here longer, Pepper," Elena said gently, "but Massey's calling us. Nemaine probably has a job for us. You know as well as I do that she doesn't leave home."
The light pulsed in response. Elena smiled. Maren knew instantly that the bird-light spoke to Elena in sensation — not through words, but feeling.
"No, Peppertree, not tomorrow. I promised Ri and Ko that we'd go for a swim tomorrow." Elena spoke again.
Something moved beneath her skin at the core of her stomach, and Maren had the sneaking suspicion that Elena was keeping more than just the bird in her body.
The bird rustled some more, and Elena smirked.
"Yeah, well we can't always get what we want," she said gently. "But hey. We might be swimming tomorrow, but there's always time to dry off in the sun."
The bird chirped happily, and Elena took that moment to rise to her feet. She slipped through the mangroves barefoot, like a girl who'd never lived even a day in a castle. Maren thought she would never be able to move this freely.
One of the first things Maren noticed was that Elena wasn't wearing a dress. Her clothing was cut in the style of common men's garments, but the fabric was far better quality.
Finally, Elena set foot on solid ground, not hovering over the shallow, smelly water of mangroves.
Before Maren even caught sight of the cottage, a scent violated her nostrils, wafting through her nasal cavity, and sticking to her tongue. This scent weighed heavy in the air.
Magic.
"Nemaine's got something brewing alright," Elena muttered to the bird. "Money's on Mugwort that she's out of. Lately there's been holes in the subspace walls and more people in the area. You know, the librarian told me that the Darkwood King has been doing something in those woods that's scaring the hell out of the locals in Danseltown. He's had four displaced families from there ask to stay the night in his library just last week."
The spirits in her body moved in response, and Maren counted three — the bird in her arm, two of something in her solar plexus and one on her right thigh. Maren remembered Cora had said something about a beast in Elena's back, but Maren didn't feel anything there now.
"These are scary times, you guys," Elena shook her head, "and Nemaine is going to make sure she squeezes every last bit of profit out of this."
Elena approached the cottage. It was small, built from brick and natural materials. And in front of the door, a tree.
But as they approached, Maren realized this was not in fact, a tree at all.
"Eleanore, where have you been all morning?" The tree-being barked, its voice both feminine and masculine. "Do you never learn, girl? The curtain has holes in it. If anyone found you out there, Nemaine would lose her bloody mind."
Elena snickered. "Nemaine's already lost her mind, Masselythe."
The tree's eyes narrowed, the grooves of its bark tightening harshly. "Stop pushing your luck, child and get inside. Nemaine has a job for you."
"Nemaine always has a job," Elena rolled her eyes. "A job with shit pay."
Then, WHACK.
One of Masselythe's branches swatted against the back of Elena's head.
"Ow!" She yelped, but her cry instantly turned into a cheeky giggle.
"There'll be none of that in front of me," Massey said as they opened the doors. "Now get inside. This one's important, and if you bargain, she may pay the right price."
Elena took a deep inhale and sighed as she crossed through the archway. The scent of magic and herbs engulfed her senses, and instantly, Elena — and Maren — knew what Nemaine was brewing.
A travel spell, Elena thought. A big one. This'll be brewing for days.
Maren thought this odd. She couldn't hear Elena's thoughts, but it was like that one thought was so strong, the stone knew as well.
Elena wove through a room with wooden beams that crisscrossed the high ceiling, apothecary cabinets lining each wall. Their nooks and crannies stuffed to the brim with books stacked upon one another, bundles of dried herbs tied with twine, glass and metal baubles, tools made of metal and bone scattered lazily across the surface and magical utensils whose purpose Maren couldn't even begin to guess about.
The terracotta clay tile beneath Elena's mud-covered feet were worn, but clean and polished. From the ceiling hung jars of light, magic sigils carved into wood and knotted together, and herbs suspended in the air and growing in their own pots.
The inside was much larger than it looked on the outside.
Resting along one of the wood beams was a creature — large and snake-like. Its body silver-blue and iridescent in color. It was large enough to stretch across two beams, the end of its tail coiling lazily across the second beam. Along its spine ran a deep blue fin, translucent, but deeper in color, and shimmering like the dorsal fin of a fish. Its body was layered in ridges and scales but it disappeared into the shadow of the ceiling, too far for Maren to bear witness to its full shape.
Maren's breath caught in her chest, but she was soothed by the alarming calm in Elena.
"Echo," Elena whisper-yelled. "Get down from there! You'll be punished if you break another beam."
The beast let out a low, purring huff, and turned its head away from her.
"Tsk. Brat." Elena muttered, shaking her head.
She crossed the room toward an arched doorway, draped with hanging textile threads of navy blue and deep violet, an odd contrast to the rust color of the walls. She moved the tapestries aside with her arm and entered the room.
The first thing that hit her was the scent.
Magic — but not like Elena's, and certainly not like Cora's or Maren's.
This scent filled the air with an oppressive weight that was both sweet and metallic, like blood and berries. It clung to the back of Elena's throat — repulsive enough to cause nausea, but Elena didn't retreat.
This room was darker, lit only by a few narrow openings in the ceiling for ventilation. This space was built in a perfect square, with a stone sink, and long countertops that lined the walls. Above the counters were more cabinets and shelving overflowing with materials.
At the center of the room was a pool of water — the source of the stench. It bubbled gently as steam curled at its surface, shimmering with magic. Maren half-expected a traditional witches cauldron, but this made far more sense.
Why use only a pot large enough for stew, when you could use one the size of a royal bath?
"You called?" Elena asked, her tone flat, though her heart beat, and her stomach toiled.
Maren almost missed the old woman, but there she stood across the room. Her hair was long, braided and white. Her body was short, soft and frail, but her eyes — those steely holes of darkness told Maren there was nothing fragile about this woman.
"Elena," the witch spoke, her voice just as commanding as her eyes. "You've been spending too much time at the edges of the curtain. You'll get us found."
"Nobody is looking for us, Nemaine." Elena rolled her eyes.
The woman stared Elena down, her gaze steady.
Elena stood her ground, though inside, she was terrified.
"What happened to calling me Mama? You were such a cute little tot." Nemaine said, turning her attention away from Elena.
Resentment coiled low in Elena's gut, and she scoffed. "What happened to staying in Frogswallow? I thought this was the perfect place for materials."
The witch didn't bat an eye.
"Your nose has become sharp, Daughter."
Elena didn't respond. She just stared at Nemaine.
The witch continued. "We must be gone by tomorrow night. I need you to procure only one item."
"Why are we leaving?" Elena asked immediately.
The witch was silent, her back turned away from her.
"You ask me for favors," Elena continued, "but you won't tell me a damn thing."
"I pay you!" Nemaine exclaimed.
"Barely!" Elena shot back. "That's what I want for payment. I want you to tell me why we're moving again. I like this town, Mama. I have friends here. I found Bramble here." She touched her thigh. "Why are we leaving?"
The witch turned her head back slightly, "Is that truly all the payment you want?"
Elena rolled her eyes. "Yes."
The witch turned, her eyes flat.
"Because the Darkwood King is marching his army south," Nemaine said.
The soft glow of the bubbling pool in the floor cast warped reflections across Nemaine's aged skin. Steam lapped at Elena's bare toes, as if the magic were reaching for her, and Elena recoiled slightly.
"You will leave on the morrow," she continued. "You will procure a young Rowan Tree, the roots fully intact and then we are moving the subspace to Inaha in the North."