67

A NIGHT BIRD cried out a warning as I worked my way through the Forbidden Wood. Gnarled trees lurked in the darkness, shadowy shapes hunkering by the small trail. Stars crowded the sky, but a slice of pale moon only gave weak light. My animal was right near the surface, helping me discern any dangers that might be hiding nearby. So far, Nyfain had stayed true to his word. The way was clear.

The enchanted birch rose in front of me, and everything in me said to go around it. It had been drilled into my head from an early age that to set foot in this wood was death. To get out was lucky. The tree’s habit of shaking like some clown on drugs was not great for my comfort level. But Nyfain had said he’d run to help if he thought I was in danger. Plus, I had a shiny new dagger, thirsty for demon creature blood. Or maybe that was just my animal.

The tree started up like a dancing girl trying to shake her boobs out of her dress as I ducked around it and darted to the bush. Nyfain’s smell zinged through me, heavy in the area. It wasn’t as fresh as it had been yesterday, but it was more plentiful. He’d lingered.

I reached into the bush and then yanked my hand back. The yellow package had been filled again.

Biting my lip, suppressing a smile, I hooked my fingers through the brown string and carefully dragged it out. I pulled at the end and then disentangled it off the package. Another parchment lay folded up inside, over an additional leather-bound book. My stomach fluttered.

His writing was not nearly so delicate this time. A bit of a mess, really, as though he’d brought the supplies and written it here, crouched down next to the bush.

DEAR FINLEY,

I remembered seeing a romance novel in your house, grouped with the book on our people’s history and poison trees, and wondered if maybe action/adventure wasn’t within your interests. I therefore brought you a book from my mother’s section of the library.

Such stories were not allowed by my father, so it was essential they be kept in a secret room accessed by a hidden door. They were snuck in from travelers, sold to her by merchants in whispered deals, sent by her sisters, and pulled from libraries in the villages. She now has quite the collection.

I have not read any of them. Should you wish to provide some guidance, I’d be happy to explore them with you. I’ll choose something for you, and you can choose something for me. Attached is a sampling of titles. If you recognize any good ones, I’ll start there. We can compare notes, if you’d like. Scholar to scholar, as it were.

If I may be so bold, I’d like to inquire after your father. Yours truly,

-N

I PULLED out this volume and noticed there was extra parchment and a fountain pen stashed beneath it. I smiled to myself and pulled it out, sitting back against the birch, whose antics had simmered down, and spread a piece of parchment over the smooth surface of the book.

DEAR DICKHEAD N,

Lovely to hear from you. My father is doing well, actually. Really well! I took what I learned from you and applied it to what ails him. He’s weak and a little muddled, but speaking well, not coughing, and awake. If not a cure, it is at least a huge advancement. We’ll keep watching him to see. So I may have a way to slow the progress of the sickness and bring people back from the brink of death. Only time will tell whether there is a cure in the mix. I’m about to try the crowded nulling elixir on my neighbor, so we’ll see if I’m a healer or a murderer.

In my other letter, I detailed the purpose of the enclosed elixirs and how to make them. These are samples of each. I have more, but they were too heavy to bring all at once.

Now, on to important matters. I’ve already finished the book you lent but intend to do a reread. It’s very exciting!!! (I nearly put four exclamation points, but there wasn’t even a little romance, so that diminished my excitement just a smidge.) I like all books, so if you have any about poison mushrooms or anything, those are great, too. I just don’t get through them as quickly as fiction.

Anyway, more info about the stuff I brought (my letters clearly aren’t so organized as yours—I didn’t have princely training). I do better when I can do at least eight one rough draft. I hope you will bare with me.

Some very dense people in my village have worked off the directions, so I have high hopes that the healers in the other villages can work it out. This is the safer nulling elixir. It won’t kill anyone. For the other, I would prefer to be present, since there are still so many unknowns. I’m not sure whether I can just travel to other villages? I know in the past people would die for trying, but in the past you couldn’t cross the magical boundary, either. It seems ridiculous that no one does if they can. Or maybe they just never come to our village, and no one from the other villages wants us? That certainly seems likely, given the frosty reception I received after I followed you the other morning.

My animal is not amused by whatever you did to the connection, by the way, which I didn’t realize was a thing. She has been a surly cunt ever since, and if I told her that, she’d thank me for the kind words. That’s how mad she is. It’s probably a good thing I can’t shift, or she would surely take over and do something crazy, like find you and fuck your brains out, or burn down the castle. It’s really hard to know with her. I think she’s crazy.

I TOOK a moment to glance at his list of books, twenty in all, and only eight I recognized.

I’VE PLACED numbers beside the books that I know. It’s a riddle. Choose the one that you think I want you to read first, and read that one. Give me your favorite scene. I’ll then know if you chose the right book.

As the other note says, I’ve left some stuff for your very many wounds. I saw how much blood you lost. I’ve put something in the bag for that as well. Take care of yourself. You can’t let your duty kill you. I think that’s my animal’s job after the stunt you pulled. Stay healthy so she can claim a little vengeance, will you?

I SAT with the pen in my hand, thinking about what else I could say. What else I might want to tell him, or get him to tell me. I didn’t want this to be the end of the conversation—I also didn’t want to use up all of our topics in one go.

With that in mind, I took a chance.

SINCE YOU ARE FULFILLING ALL your duties, I find myself remiss (is that the right word? I’m second-guessing myself) in taking care of your mother’s garden. So, if you aren’t too busy, maybe wade through there and cut out all the plants that don’t belong. The vines, for a start. What the hell are they doing in there? The blackberry bushes are out of control. Those need to go. Weeds, obviously. You know, help out a little. Hadriel can assist you. He’ll hate it, but he needs something to do in my absence besides shame-fuck. He’ll thank me eventually.

Warmest regards, Finley

THE BIRCH SHOOK when I left, and I had a smile on my face all the way home. The next day I went back in the afternoon, carrying more canisters. I knew it was probably too early to hope for a return note, but I figured I could add at least more canisters to the bag. A dragon could carry much more than I could. Besides, I wanted a few more crowded plant leaves so I could start experimenting. I’d also written out a bunch of questions about everlass for

Nyfain.

At the birch, his smell caught me again, snapping my focus taut and sending a zip of fire through my body. It was recent and potent, deliciously curling through my senses and wetting my panties. My animal purred in delight, and I wondered just what had created the extra depth to his scent.

DEAR FINLEY,

I enjoyed the sarcasm in your first sentence immensely. It really ruined made my night. I carried on reading with a scowl glow.

I SPAT OUT A LAUGH, settling back against the shaking birch to read.

FIRST, and most importantly, your father’s convalescence is fantastic news! I am so proud of you. I wish we could go back in time, because you would’ve been crowned as the best plant worker in the kingdom, I have no doubt. You and my mother would have had so much to talk about.

Consequently, why do you call him “Father” and your mother “Mom”? I picked up on that at your cottage but drugged your family and skulked off into the night before I could ask (…is that joke too soon?).