Chapter Fourteen: Rose

The closer they drew to the giant tree, the cooler the air became. Even as the sun rose higher in the sky, the temperature continued to drop. Rose shivered in her cloak, her fear mingling with curiosity. She craned her neck, desperate to know more.

To know what Shen knew. To know more about who she was. What she was. Staying with him was the only way to find out the truth.

‘This is the Mother Tree.’ He spoke now with quiet reverence. ‘It marks the grave of Ortha Starcrest, the last true witch queen of Eana.’

Rose frowned, searching the annals of her mind for the name. ‘Ortha … Starcrest? Like the birds? I’ve never heard of her. Or any witch queens, for that matter. From where did she rule? That tree?’

Shen stared at her in disbelief. ‘Hissing seaweed. Do you really not know your own history?’

Rose looked at him, blankly.

‘This country belonged to the witches long before your precious Protector ever set foot in it. He was nothing more than a dangerous, jealous man who feared the witches almost as badly as he envied them, so he overthrew their queen and turned the kingdom against them.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. The witches had no such kingdom. They were wild creatures, roaming from country to country, skulking in the forests and mountains and—’

Anadawn Palace was built by the witches,’ Shen cut in. ‘The old witch queens and kings made Eana what it is. The Valhart royals have stood on their shoulders for over a thousand years, only to crush their memory deeper and deeper into the earth.’ His words were crisp and biting. ‘How else could they claim this country for their own?’

To that, Rose said nothing. But her mind was whirring. The idea of witch queens and kings would have seemed preposterous to her only yesterday but she was beginning to think that despite all the hours she spent in the Anadawn library, there was a lot she had yet to learn. Not just about her country, but about herself, too.

As they passed the Mother Tree, Shen bowed his head. Rose shivered in her nightgown, pulling her borrowed cloak tightly around her shoulders. She glanced back with longing at the Restless Sands. The desert might have scared her once but at least she knew what lay behind her.

A softly glowing seed floated down from the Mother Tree and settled on the edge of her cloak. Another followed, and then more gathered, cascading around her like luminous raindrops.

Beyond the sentry tree, the forest opened like a dark mouth. The trees clustered tightly around them, the gnarled limbs twisted around one another so it was impossible to tell where one ended and another began. Tendrils of moss hung from every branch, swaying in the earthen breeze. The vines swept so low they brushed the ground, the trunks bending as though they were bowing.

‘I don’t want to go any further,’ said Rose. ‘I’ve changed my mind.’

‘No turning back now,’ said Shen, nudging Storm onwards. ‘You will see the truth of what happened here. What your Great Protector did.’

Rose had to push the vines aside as they rode through the trees. They reached out and stroked her face, moss trailing along her arms as though searching for something beneath her skin. The wind swept through the forest after them, and as it did, the sound of weeping filled the air.

Rose whipped her head around. ‘Where is that sound coming from? And what are these things?’ She eyed the luminous seeds that had landed on her cloak. When she reached down to brush one off, a vision exploded in her mind.

A young woman with russet hair and freckled cheeks bent over a broken body. All around her lay the bodies of hundreds more, men and women, wounded and wailing, across a battlefield choked with fire and smoke. Witches screaming as they died. Others lying utterly still. The young woman snapped her chin up, eyes flashing at Rose.

‘Please,’ she begged. ‘I can’t save them all.’

A silver arrow came from the sky and pierced the woman’s heart. Blood pooled from her chest as she fell, her gaze still on Rose.

Rose gasped as the vision cleared. ‘That woman, just now! Did you see her, too?’

Shen gestured past Rose, to the trees swaying around them. ‘The Weeping Forest is a graveyard, Princess. The Mother Tree marks the spot where Ortha Starcrest was cut down by the Valharts over a thousand years ago. Many witches were slain here by the Protector and his army.’ He held a hand out, a mossy vine trailing between his fingers. ‘The spirits of those who died in that war still linger in this forest. Their last memories dwell in the Mother Tree, and float out when they sense a witch nearby. To pass on their story.’ He raked his gaze over her cloak. ‘And it looks as if many of them are coming out for you.’

Rose tipped her head back. Hundreds of glowing seeds lit up the gloom of the forest like fireflies. They were drifting after her, the keening wind growing stronger.

‘Witchcraft.’ Rose trembled in her cloak as an old and violent terror took hold of her. ‘No, Shen. No. I have been through enough today. I refuse to be attacked by witches, living or dead.’ She scrunched her eyes shut, hoping they might disappear if she didn’t look at them. ‘Make them stop. Tell them to stop!’

‘I can’t, Princess.’

‘Then I’ll run!’ Rose flung herself off Storm and landed up to her ankles in mud. She cursed as she righted herself, then quickly drew her shoulders back. Fear would only encourage these dead witches. She mustn’t show any of it. ‘No matter. A bit of mud doesn’t bother me.’

Shen watched her from atop his horse. ‘I think you’re going to regret that.’

‘Shh.’ Rose whirled around, trying to find a way out.

The seeds were coming at her from every direction now. As she stepped backwards, a vine curled around her ankle, rooting her to the spot.

‘Let go of me!’ she shouted into the woods. ‘I want nothing to do with you!’

Another seed brushed her cheek, and an old woman barrelled into Rose’s mind. Her face was impossibly wrinkled. ‘We’ll never disappear!’ she cried in a hoarse voice as she marched barefoot across a charred field. A Valhart soldier in green and gold charged towards her, sword drawn. With a rallying scream, the old woman flung her hand out and sent a gust of wind spiralling into his chest. He was thrown backwards, his sword flying from his grip. The old woman caught it and drove it cleanly into his neck. Twelve silver arrows pierced her body as she did. She turned back to Rose, blood pouring through her smile as she fell to her knees. ‘Eana’s rivers will run red with our enemies’ blood.’ Another arrow knocked the old woman sideways. She fell into the dirt, the light fading from her eyes. ‘Not today. But someday.’

She died smiling.

Rose came out of the vision screaming.

‘Get these things off of me! Make them stop!’

‘This is your history, Princess. And it will be the future unless things change in this country.’

‘This isn’t what I want!’ Rose fell to her knees in the mud, trying to rip the vine off her ankle. Another tightened around her left arm. ‘No, please!’

She tried to bat a drifting seed away, but as she touched it, a new vision swept her up.

This time it was a boy. He was no more than ten, with golden curls and crooked teeth. He reached out to Rose, eyes pleading as a soldier pierced his stomach with a spear. He died with the same word on his lips. Please.

Rose flinched as she came out of the vision, ‘He was only a child!’ Bile rose in her throat as another vine seized her right arm. ‘And they killed him. They didn’t even hesitate!’

‘Yes, Princess. Your great and noble Protector slayed our children, too.’

The forest was howling now. Rose bucked against the vines as the seeds found her, one after another, forcing their last moments into her mind. Men and women and children, of all ages and crafts, standing against a ruthless army and dying at its feet.

The army that would soon answer to Rose.

The forest knew who she was. What she stood for.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the last seed left her. The wind was low and keening now. The vines slithered away and Rose curled up on her side in the mud, staring at nothing.

‘Rose?’ said Shen, anxiously. He slid off his horse, and came towards her, his footsteps light atop the soupy mud. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t think there’d be—’

‘So many of them,’ said Rose, numbly. ‘I never knew there were so many.’

Shen said nothing, but when he offered his knee, Rose took it. Once she was back on the horse, she sat in a daze. Shen nudged Storm into a trot and they continued onwards, through the creeping forest. The trees left them to their thoughts, and for a long time, both were silent.

When light began to filter through the branches and a curling mist crept into the Weeping Forest, Shen spoke again.

‘Eighteen years ago, this forest saved the last of our kind when Lillith’s War turned in favour of Rathborne’s army. The witches retreated and hid among the trees. The spirits of those taken centuries before them, back in the Protector’s War, saved the ones still living. No Anadawn soldier was brave enough to march through here to capture them.’ His laughter was hollow now. ‘Consider yourself braver than your entire army, Princess.’

‘I was a baby, Shen. I didn’t know.’

‘But you do know. As custodian of your throne, Willem Rathborne has made it clear that witches are no longer welcome in the land they planted. Made it clear what will happen if we dare show ourselves inside the kingdom of Eana. Imprisonment, then death.’ Shen hardened his jaw. ‘These memories show what the future you claim you want will look like. Do you still want it, Princess? Even after everything you’ve seen here?’

The final moments of all those witches’ lives still swam in Rose’s head. An ocean of faces and fears, of last words on soundless lips. She knew she’d never forget them. Not a single one.

‘All I’ve ever wanted is to do what’s best for Eana,’ she said, quietly.

‘You have much to learn about the Eana you claim as your own.’

‘Perhaps you’re right,’ Rose conceded.

The mist thickened, hiding the world beyond the trees. The vines stroked her cheeks and tangled in her hair, as though to pull her back. The wind wept. The seeds were drifting after her again, their flickering lights glowing in the fog. Rose squeezed her eyes shut. Her nerves were frayed and her thoughts were reeling. She needed to get out of this cursed place and gather a moment to herself. To think. To breathe.

Her eyes flew open, bright and burning. ‘I know what you want from me,’ she said in a choked voice. ‘You want me to admit it.’ She could hear their whispers in her ears, feel them tugging at her sleeves. ‘FINE! I’m a witch.’ Her voice broke. ‘I’m a witch.’

The wind stopped, and all was still.

The mist parted, revealing the edge of the forest. Beyond it, across a rolling plain of wild grass, loomed the knife-edge of a cliff.

As they treaded onwards, all Rose could see was endless grey sky. She tasted brine on the wind, salty and tangy on her tongue. Waves crashed somewhere far, far below. A seagull crested the edge of the cliff, looked straight at her, then disappeared with a screech.

Rose looked over her shoulder at Shen, her voice a frightened whisper. ‘Why have you brought me to the edge of the world?’

Shen kept his gaze on the cliffs. ‘Welcome to Ortha, Princess. Home of the witches.’

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