Chapter 47 Tree House
Ryven
Rain in Ashwood never fell gently.
It came down in sheets—cold and relentless—drumming against leaves and bark like fists on a war shield. By midday the storm had swallowed the sky whole, dark clouds rolling low enough to scrape the treetops. Lightning split the horizon in jagged streaks, thunder following close behind, heavy and shaking.
The Cursed Forest answered with its own growl.
Jehan and I were perched high above the forest floor, tucked into the thick arms of the largest oak in Ashwood. The trunk was so wide three men linking arms couldn’t have circled it. Its branches spread like a crown, and between two of its strongest limbs we had built ourselves a crude shelter—a tree house.
Magic made it easier.
We’d drawn branches from neighboring trees, breaking and bending them to our will. Jehan secured the frame while I sealed the gaps with woven bark and broad leaves tough enough to withstand the rain. It wasn’t elegant. It wasn’t meant to be. But it would hold.
By the time the wind picked up, we were already inside, cross-legged on the rough wooden floor, sharing the last of the sandwiches from our satchels.
“Not bad,” Jehan muttered around a mouthful of bread.
“You’re only saying that because you were the one who forgot the salt,” I replied.
He grinned.
When we were finished eating, I pressed two fingers against the brass insignia pinned to my cloak, a stylized leaf, and summoned Helga.
I had let her sleep in after switching huts last night. She’d earned that much. Besides, if anyone deserved rest after the past few days, it was her.
The wind howled harder as she arrived.
A shimmer of light flashed at the opening of the tree house, and Helga ducked inside, rain clinging to her dark hair and shoulders. She smelled faintly of ale and musk.
She looked pleased.
That alone made me suspicious.
She took a seat across from us, long legs folding easily despite the cramped space. The tree swayed, but the structure held.
“You look happy,” I observed. “You must’ve had a nice dream.”
Helga snorted. “No dream,” she said, wiping rain from her brow. “I spent the morning with your father. I fucked him. Almost broke his cock riding him."
Jehan and I exchanged a glance before breaking into a fit of laughter.
“That’s a good one," Jehan said, laughing harder. Too hard. His laughter carried past the woven walls and into the storm.
Helga’s expression shifted. Not amused. Not joking.
“What’s so funny?” she demanded.
Jehan tried to catch his breath, laughter still shaking his shoulders. “What do you mean?” he managed. “You’re joking… right?”
Helga folded her arms. “No."
The wind rattled the branches.
Helga rolled her shoulders and leaned back against the curved wood. “He slipped into my bed, the pervert,” she said, far too casually. “Thought I was someone else.”
“Someone else?” Jehan asked.
“Rowenna,” Helga replied with a snort. “The fool didn’t even bother to check before crawling in naked.”
I stared at her. “You’re joking.”
“I’m not,” she said flatly. “He thought he could take what he wanted. So I decided to teach him a lesson on control."
Jehan blinked. “Teach him how?”
Helga’s grin widened. “I pinned him down by the wrists with one hand and held him by his neck with the other. Made it very clear he wasn’t the one in control.”
The tree swayed with the wind.
“And?” I asked carefully.
“And,” she said with unmistakable pride, “he learned his lesson.”
My smile vanished.
“Helga,” I said carefully, “tell me you’re exaggerating.”
“I’m not.”
The air inside the tree house felt thinner.
“He’s going to kill me,” I muttered.
Helga waved a dismissive hand. “Simmer down, Ry. If anyone’s in danger, it’s his pride.”
“That isn’t reassuring.”
Jehan leaned back against the curved branch wall. “So what happened after?”
Helga smirked. “He enjoyed himself more than he expected.”
“What?” Jehan and I said in unison, the shock apparent in both our faces.
The sick bastard...
She shrugged. “He even offered me a position in his Imperial Army. Commander."
I stared at her. "He what?" I asked again, this time alone, sharper.
Her eyes narrowed at me. “You think I can't command a force?”
“That’s not what I meant.” I dragged a hand through my hair. “You know Magnus. He never offers anything without strings attached.”
“Well, I told him I’m loyal to you,” she said firmly. “I have no interest in leading soldiers for the Empire.”
She pulled a flask from her satchel and took a long swallow. The scent of ale filled the small space.
“Besides,” she added, “if he tries anything, I can handle him.”
That wasn’t what worried me.
Magnus didn’t need strength to win. He needed leverage.
And leverage, he had in abundance.
Helga tipped her head back for another drink. “Aldo wants to see you. He has questions for her. You’ll be meeting her tonight, yes?”
I nodded slowly. “Better it comes from me than anyone else.”
“So,” Helga said, leaning forward, “anything interesting happen while I was… occupied?”
Jehan pointed northwest. “We saw sparks. Fire, maybe. It burned for a while before turning into flashes of light.”
Helga shrugged. “She probably tried to build a fire. Wanted to cook. Did you catch a scent of anything burning or maybe the scent of meat over a fire?"
“No. We did see movement near the mouth of the Cursed Forest,” I said. “Two Imperial Enforcers went in. They were following a black cat.”
Helga’s brows rose. “And?”
“They haven’t come back out.”
She fell quiet at that.
Her gaze drifted toward the dark boundary where Ashwood met the Cursed Forest. Even from here, we could see the difference. Ashwood was wild but alive. The Cursed Forest felt… watchful.
“Wolves still guard the edge,” she muttered. “I wouldn’t step inside, not even for gold.”
Neither would I.
“Magnus is getting impatient,” Helga said after a moment, softer now. “He wants a report by dusk.”
“He’ll get one,” I replied. “Now hush. The storm’s loud, but not loud enough to cover careless voices.”
As if on cue, the rain intensified.
It came down in a sudden, blinding torrent, hammering the canopy so hard it sounded like pebbles thrown by the sky itself. Water poured off the leaves in streams. The air grew colder.
Jehan shifted, peering through a narrow gap in the branches. “In weather like this, she won’t move far.”
“Unless she’s desperate,” I said.
“She’s smart,” Helga countered. “Smart people don’t run blind in a storm.”
I wasn’t sure that was true. Desperation made fools of even the brilliant.
Another crack of lightning split the sky, illuminating the treetops in harsh white for a heartbeat before plunging everything back into gray.
Jehan rubbed his hands together. “I have an idea.”
“That’s rarely comforting,” I muttered.
He ignored me.
“We go home. Rest,” Jehan said, his voice steady despite the wind and rain clawing at the tree house. “In weather like this, she won’t travel far. She’ll wait it out. Maybe move under cover of darkness.” He paused, glancing toward the northwest where we had seen the sparks earlier. “Judging from where that fire flared, she’ll reach the mouth of the Cursed Forest tonight.”
His eyes shifted to mine. “We’ll go to Coal with you, Ry. Help you tell her.”
Helga took another drink, considering it. Thunder rolled overhead, shaking the branches.
“She won’t travel at night,” Helga said finally. “If she carries a lantern, she risks being seen. Imperial patrols will be watching.”
“Then we track at first light,” Jehan replied.
Rain pounded harder, drumming against our crude shelter. The oak groaned, but the structure held.
“You’re both right,” I said at last. “She won’t move in this. And she won’t move blind through that forest. She’s afraid.” I paused. “Anyone would be. The Cursed Forest does that to you.”
Lightning split the sky, white and blinding. For a heartbeat, the world beyond our shelter glowed silver—twisted branches, sheets of rain, the dark line of trees in the distance—before plunging back into shadow.
My thoughts drifted to her again. Red hair. Green eyes wide with shock the last time I saw her. The way she had stood her ground even when fear trembled beneath her skin.
And Magnus’s voice—calm, certain.
“Because she will bring about the end of the world and with it, I will become Emperor.”
Magnus wanted her contained.
And I wasn’t certain what I wanted anymore.
Power? Perhaps.
But not at the cost Magnus would demand.
Helga studied me in the dim light. “You’re thinking too loudly.”
“I’m thinking about what to tell Magnus,” I said.
“That’s not what I meant," she replied. "Ry, there's something you aren't telling us."
I looked toward the forest instead of answering. Rain blurred everything into shifting gray. “Let’s go home,” I said. “I’ll speak to Aldo. After supper, we head to Coal.”
Helga studied me another second, then gave a single nod.
Jehan stretched his arms over his head, satisfied. “Good. I’d rather not drown up here.”
Helga uncorked her flask. “Drink first,” she said, offering it across the small space. “Then we nap. We’ll need clear heads tonight.”
I took the flask and drank. The ale burned down my throat, warm and bitter.
This hunt was no longer simple.
It wasn’t just about tracking a girl.
It was about choosing sides.
And sooner or later, Magnus would force that choice into the open.
Lightning flashed again, lighting the forest in stark white.
And somewhere deep within the Cursed Forest, a low howl rose—long and distant—answering the thunder.