CHAPTER 34 – Where Spirits Fear to Tread

You see her more clearly, now.

Not all of her: much of Saphienne had not yet come to be as she stood by that window in Celaena’s sitting room, arguing with Iolas, and Faylar, and Laewyn. She had not yet learned to truly temper her impulses, nor gained the wisdom to know what was achievable and what was folly. Her intellect was profound, yes, but although she had read a very great deal on many subjects, she knew almost nothing about the Great Art — and even less about people’s nature, especially her own.

Yet gaze upon her silhouette in that glass, and you might catch the profile of who she would become. Behold her there: a shadow upon the woodland, stark of line and full of deepening wrath, growing in certainty and eloquence as she fought for what she believed to be necessary, impassive to voices of reason, even to the voices of friends.

And, justified?

So prophesied the wizard: time will tell.

 

* * *

 

“Then stay,” Saphienne retorted, blunt as ever. “Celaena and I are going. If you want to stop us, you can tell Almon — and also explain what we’re doing, and why, and the extent of your involvement.”

Iolas deflated. “Saphienne, what happened to caution? We have no idea what we’re going to find.”

“Or if we’ll find anything,” Faylar murmured.

“Or that.” Iolas rubbed his jaw. “You might be walking into danger–”

Celaena stepped back out of the bedroom, redressed in her robes and emboldened by Saphienne’s support. “It’s not that far. It can’t be too dangerous… not so close to the village.”

“That’s an assumption!” Iolas squeezed his ears – which was incredibly uncouth, but he’d forgotten all politeness in his agitation – and rolled his eyes. “Gods give me strength: you both know this is foolish! Someone might get hurt.”

“Celaena’s been hurt,” Saphienne said. “And again: we’re going. You don’t have to. Nor do you, Faylar,” she said, “though it would be helpful to have you with us — in case we run into woodland spirits.”

Faylar brushed his hair back, anxious. “I’m not sure…”

“I’ll go.” Laewyn stood away from the wall she had leant against, keeping her arms folded. “I’m not sure about this, but if Celaena’s going, I’m going.”

“…Fuck me,” Faylar sighed. He quickly recovered, affected light-heartedness. “Well, I guess the majority has decided: Celaena, your best friend is coming with you.”

Celaena was pained as she complained to her girlfriend. “Laewyn, you shouldn’t have told him that. He’s going to be unbearable now.”

Faylar gave her a bow. “Your best friend says you’re welcome.”

“This isn’t a joke, Faylar!” Iolas threw up his hands. “And this isn’t fun anymore, Saphienne. Celaena’s obviously not in her right mind–”

“Hey!” Laewyn glared.

“–But you know better than this. We should be finding some other way–”

Annoyed, Celaena picked up the pillow Saphienne had previously been sitting on and threw it at him. “Then you find another way. This is what I want, and we’re going.” She stalked toward the door. “Stay here if you like. Help yourself to tea.”

Saphienne and Laewyn went after her, leaving Faylar to shrug his shoulders at an open-mouthed Iolas. As they went down the hallway, Saphienne could hear the younger boy trying to reassure the older. “Don’t worry — I’ll talk them out of doing anything really–”

But then they were in Celaena’s study, out of earshot.

As Saphienne waited with Laewyn by the door, she watched Celaena go to her desk, unlock the drawer, and quickly retrieve a dark metal rod, shoving it into her pocket. Though Saphienne had only caught a glimpse, she expected it was another enchanted tool.

A distraction would give Faylar more time to persuade Iolas. “What’s that?”

Celaena paused. “…Father left it. For self-defence.”

“A weapon?” Laewyn took a step back. “You shouldn’t have–”

“Father thoroughly instructed me in its use.” She withdrew the enchanted rod from her pocket, revealing that it was fashioned from black iron and capped with polished ruby on its lowermost end, the lower half wrought to be gripped, three small symbols glowing red just above where Celaena’s thumb rested. “I can heighten or diminish it — I’ll keep it on the lowest level.”

Saphienne moved closer. “What does it do?”

“It’s a Rod of Repulsion.” Seeing that Saphienne had never heard of it, she looked around, then picked up a piece of the broken table leg. The ruby began to glow crimson as she squeezed her thumb on the middle marking, and she tapped the far, flat end of the rod against herself. “Does nothing to its wielder. But anything else…”

Holding up the fragment of wood, she raised it overhead, pressed the flat end of the rod against it, and released i–

A deep thrum and scarlet flash sent the fragment crashing into the ceiling, varnished splinters raining down across the study as the ruby darkened.

Laewyn’s voice was awed. “Fuck!”

“…That was a bad demonstration.” Celaena lowered the rod, dropping it back into her pocket as the glow faded. “Heavier things aren’t as strongly affected. On this setting, it’d only knock you down and bruise you.”

“But it goes higher?” Saphienne couldn’t temper the excitement in her voice.

“It can. Father said more than the second level is unnecessary against elves. Broken bones are a sufficient deterrence, he told me.” She tried to reassure Laewyn with a smile. “I’m not planning on using it. I don’t really think we’ll need it. But, father taught me it’s important to prepare for the unfamiliar.”

Laewyn just nodded, looking very out of her depth as they left the study.

When they reached the top of the staircase, Saphienne heard Faylar call, then saw him leading a resigned Iolas toward them. The girls waited for the pair to catch up.

As they did, Saphienne leant closer to Celaena. “Would you let me–”

“Absolutely not.” Celaena covered her pocket. “Not after the tray.”

At least then, Saphienne knew better than to argue.

 

* * *

 

The clouds moved quickly as the five walked through the woodland, veiling and unveiling a conflicted sun. Although the earlier rains had receded, grey on the horizon threatened their return, and the rich smell of wet earth perfumed the air with the promise that the forest would not dry that day. Even the wind was uncertain, blowing through the boughs and grass in nervous breaths that turned restlessly from north to south, east to west, catching the young elves with unexpected gusts that rippled along their robes and coats.

Celaena led them across and then out of the village, her step slowed by more than tiredness. Yet as they left the settlement she grew surer in her stride, slipping through the wild trees as though she walked her home grove. Her pace increased after the first mile into the woods.

Faylar, in contrast, showed his nervousness. “I think my mother’s patrolling somewhere out here.”

Beside him, Saphienne remembered a little. “She’s a Warden of the Wilds, isn’t she? Won’t she be busy with goblins?”

He grinned fondly at her. “No goblins here… though, she did say we’re overdue. No,” he explained, “she’s patrolling the nearby woodland this month, checking on its health now that the snows have thawed. You know: looking for trees in need of tending, checking for erosion along streams, keeping an eye out for signs of subsidence… and the migration of animals, too, but I don’t really know much about that.”

Laewyn looked back at him over her shoulder. “I thought they mostly, um, keep people safe? Enforce the consensus of the woodlands? That, um, sort of thing?”

He chuckled at her unspoken question. “Hassle underage drinkers? There’s not much trouble around here. And for what it’s worth, my mother says they don’t usually break up lesser revelries unless they’re getting out of hand — or they include children my age, or younger.”

Iolas wasn’t impressed. “Anyone under the age of eighteen ought to be taken home to their guardian.”

“Maybe,” Faylar conceded, “but there’s some judgement involved. The wardens are very pragmatic. My mother said it’s always the same faces who keep stealing bottles, and after a while it’s easy to tell who’s trouble, and who’s just practicing for physical adulthood.”

“Practicing?” Iolas raised his eyebrows. “They can wait until they’re eighteen. There’s plenty of other things to pass the time with, until then.”

Laewyn shrugged as she faced forward. “Maybe if they’re boring… unlike your sister…”

Saphienne shook her head at them, focused on the important issue as she addressed Faylar. “Would your mother think we’re up to no good?”

“I mean, we are, aren’t we? But I don’t think so. If it was just Laewyn and myself, perhaps, but wizards’ apprentices are level-headed…” Faylar smiled apologetically at Iolas. “…Usually. She and her fellow wardens would probably ignore us. They have plenty of work to get on with.” He studied the trees around them, anticipating being proven wrong. “Still, I’d rather we get a move on — I don’t like lying to her. How much further, Celaena?”

She answered him quietly. “Another two miles.”

“That close?” Iolas was uneasy. “When you said it wasn’t far, I didn’t think you meant it was on our doorstep… which makes me think, maybe it is just a nightmare. I can’t imagine Faylar’s mother missing anything that old.”

“And I’ve walked out here before,” Laewyn agreed.

Faylar saw an opportunity to tease her. “You’d know all the hidden spots, then?”

“I’m not saying I know every hidden spot,” Laewyn replied, her tone implying otherwise. “But I think I’d have noticed a spooky dead tree.”

Saphienne was thoughtful. “Does it look dead? Maybe it blends in.”

Celaena shook her head, and spoke without looking back. “It doesn’t blend in. But you wouldn’t find it. You’ll see…”

 

* * *

 

At first, they didn’t see.

Just over three miles from the village, where the vale climbed and then abruptly dipped, Celaena halted; she drew herself up to her full height as the colour drained from her face. “There it is.”

Lined up along the ridge, the rest of them peered down through the trees, their elven eyes seeing nothing unusual amid the foliage.

“…I don’t see anything,” Saphienne said. “What does it look like?”

Wordlessly, Celaena started down the slope, holding out her arms for balance as she descended. Glancing at each other, Faylar and Laewyn followed.

But Iolas hung back. “…Saphienne, I know this place.”

She turned to face him, saw him paused in reverie. “You do?”

“My father and I,” he answered her, speaking softly, “we used to go for walks all the time. He liked to explore–”

His father had been badly hurt. “Is this where he–”

Iolas shook his head. “No. The accident wasn’t here. That was near a woodland shrine — he’d been climbing.” He focused on her, gave her a wan smile. “Showing off for me. But it was windy, and he slipped, and took a bad fall.”

Understanding now why he feared heights, Saphienne swallowed. “I’m sorry for joking about that, earlier. I was just trying to–”

“You were doing what Faylar does.” He shrugged, and started down the slope. “He uses humour to distract himself, when he’s upset. My sister is a little like that.”

Joining him, she trod lightly where he had stepped. “I just wanted to keep your mind off Celaena. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I wasn’t hurt.” His lips twisted. “And, despite this being a terrible idea, I’m not worried now. At least, not worried about our safety.”

“You’ve seen the tree?”

As they reached the bottom, he inclined his head. “I’d forgotten all about it. You know how you see things, when you’re young? But you don’t understand them, and then you don’t really think about them? Seeing this place, it’s reminded me.”

She peered through the trees, to where Celaena was leading Laewyn and Faylar around a thicket. “Well, I don’t see anything.”

“Come on– let’s save Celaena some time.”

When they caught up with the others, Faylar was sceptical. “I really don’t see anything out of the ordinary — can you at least give us a hint?”

But Iolas interrupted. “Celaena, you can stop walking: there’s no path. If you want to go up, we’ll need to push through.”

Slow to hear him, she stopped a moment later, revealing her frown as she faced him. “How did you–”

“I’ve been here before.” He moved over to the thicket and reached out to take hold of a gnarled branch. “My father noticed it; he’s always had sharp eyes. Faylar, Laewyn, Saphienne: look where my hand is, then follow the plants, in both directions.”

Bewildered, but with dawning awareness, Saphienne studied the overgrown, twining thorns and leaves, seeing them curve around as they stretched off to the right, and then again where they went on and on to the left–

Laewyn gasped. “There’s a hill!”

Faylar took a moment longer, then stepped back as his eyes widened. “Fuck! That– how did we not notice that?”

“A fascination…” Saphienne breathed in wonder. “…We overlooked the growth around the hill. The magic made it seem like it was just a thicket.”

Iolas let go of the branches. By degrees, Saphienne could feel her awareness of the concealed hill diminishing, as though her vision were tunnelling in on only the brambles nearest to her.

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“That’s eerie,” Laewyn whispered. “I know it’s there, but it’s like I don’t want to see it–”

“Or remember it.” Iolas’ lips were twisted. “That explains why I nearly didn’t. But the whole hill is surrounded — probably to keep people from wandering in.”

Celaena reached for Laewyn’s hand. “So, it’s real.”

“Yes.” His gaze softened. “My father was too curious to leave well alone. We pushed our way in… and he recognised what we’d stumbled across. He told me there wasn’t anything dangerous there, but it was a place sacred to the spirits of the woodlands, and we shouldn’t dwell there for long. He said it would be disrespectful.”

A thought occurred to Saphienne. “How old were you?”

Iolas was surprised by the question. “Seven, maybe eight? Why?”

Careful not to show what she was thinking, Saphienne shrugged her shoulders. “I just had a feeling. It’s strange that he was leading you around on hikes, when you were that young.”

“My father loves the outdoors; he likes to share.” He sighed. “Honestly? I take more after my mother. She’s happiest next to a warm fire, doing embroidery.”

Faylar had approached the green wall to examine the enchantment, but he laughed at the mental image. “What do they have in common?”

“They love each other.” Iolas said it simply. “They even live together.”

Laewyn cooed as Celaena moved away from her. “That’s so romantic! How long have they been together?”

“All their lives. They were childhood frie–”

A loud crack made nearly all of them jump, the thrumming sound of Celaena’s magical rod sending the birds aflutter as it shattered the twining vines before her.

Iolas was dumbfounded. “…Is that a fucking Rod of Repulsion?!”

Faylar held his chest as he caught his breath. “You know Celaena, I half-wondered if you were going to bring it.”

“You knew about it?!”

“You can relax, her father taught her how–”

“What the fuck,” Iolas shouted, outraged beyond belief, “is a child doing with an enchanted weapon? In what fucking world can a fifteen year-old be trusted with–”

“Father knows me.” Celaena slipped the rod back into her pocket. “I’d thank you not to question the judgement of an accomplished wizard of the Luminary Vale, apprentice.”

Momentarily stunned, Iolas’ eyes narrowed–

But Saphienne caught his arm. “Iolas, she doesn’t usually carry it around — it was safely locked in her desk. And now that she’s made a way in, we’re not going to need it,” she looked over to Celaena, “are we?”

The older girl wavered. “…I suppose not, if Iolas says it’s safe.” She took the rod back out, and held it up with her thumb on the leftmost symbol. “See? Turned down to its lowest level.” Then she opened her satchel, setting it atop her calligraphy kit, and closed it over.

Recovering a modicum of his politeness, Iolas managed a stiff bow. “Thank you, Celaena, for acknowledging the concerns of your fellow apprentice.”

Riled up, Celaena pursed her lips — but suddenly sighed, tiredness winning out over testiness. “I don’t want to fight. Not when…” She turned to look through the opening she’d made, staring up the hill. Her voice was small. “…Don’t blame me for being frightened. I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

Strung out, Iolas took a deep breath, held it, and exhaled. “Apology accepted. We can talk civilly, another time.” Walking over to her, he gestured up the slope. “Now that we’ve dispensed with the unnecessary and gratuitous acts of destruction: shall we?”

The group filed through the gap, and climbed toward Celaena’s memory.

 

* * *

 

Where they crested the hill, the eeriness deepened.

“Silence,” murmured Laewyn. “There aren’t any birds.”

Swallowing, Faylar ran his fingers through his hair. “Celaena probably just scared them off… and might have caught the attention of the wardens, if we’re unlucky. It’d be a good idea not to wait around.”

Iolas swore and muttered his agreement. “We should be quick,” he promised. “This won’t take long.”

The trees continued across the hilltop, which was larger than they anticipated, all manner of alders and birches, beeches and aspens, ashes and even yews growing together in a tightening throng as they progressed. Saphienne recognised that the old growth around them should have been impossible, trees that favoured well-drained soils looking as tall and resplendent as those that preferred drenched ground. She felt certain that Iolas’ father had been right — that they had entered somewhere of importance to the woodland spirits, and that the land was maintained by hands of more than flesh and blood.

Then, they saw the windchimes.