“Fine, yes, I’ve been here a few times out of necessity. Trust me, I didn’t want to set foot in the wood. We use the everlass in an elixir I devised called the nulling elixir. Over the years, I’ve strengthened it so that it prolongs the lives of those who’ve fallen ill with the sickness from the curse.” I swallowed. “I still haven’t gotten it quite right. It isn’t a cure. But while we used to lose a dozen villagers in a year, now we’re down to a couple. Only one so far this year.”
“You created this elixir?” I couldn’t tell whether he was incredulous, but I could definitely tell he was sneering.
“Just because we weren’t born with money doesn’t mean we weren’t born with intelligence. We all have our own gardens, but during the winter months, as you must know, the everlass hibernates. The leaves we pick don’t grow back. Given we need a lot to keep a person stable, some of us with patients on the brink run out. When desperate, we either let them die, or we turn to this wood and risk confronting the beast that patrols it. Mr. Protector, as you call yourself. There, happy? We’re just trying to save lives.”
“I haven’t heard of this elixir.”
“Why would someone wander in here and tell you? We didn’t even know you turned into a man. Or that anyone could still shift.”
“None of the other villages have it.”
“We are confined to the village, genius. I created the elixir. How would I share it with anyone beyond our borders? Mental telepathy?”
“I don’t believe you.”
“And I suppose you have a better theory. What did you think we came in here for, a dare? To stuff our pillows with extra fluff? Maybe a lovely little fragrance pot for the corner of our—”
He bristled again, and blistering heat crunched down on me. The consuming need to shut up washed over me.
“We struck a bargain,” he said. “The past grievances of your village and your brother are erased. I will show them no wrath. Come now. You must pay for your sins.”
The wind went out of me. I looked down at the everlass plants one last time as tears clouded my vision. I nodded, to myself mostly, and picked my way forward.
He waited beyond the birch, tall and stoic against the dark wood. I faced him with head held high.
“Do you want your weapons?” he asked.
I huffed. “Would they do any good?”
He didn’t answer. Just stared.
I shrugged indifferently and collected them, wiping the blade of the pocketknife and putting it back in my pajama pocket, then hefting the dagger.
“You could’ve been incredible one day, Finley,” he said.
The enormous beast emerged, and he lunged for me.
I swung my dagger on instinct, driven purely by fear. It clanged off his armored face. His glowing golden eyes blinked shut and then his teeth closed against my body.
5
I didn’t have the breath to scream. The dull points of well-worn teeth pinched me between them as he ran, crashing through the trees. Branches thwapped my face, hard enough to sting but not to do lasting damage. If he let go, I’d have a long way to fall before I went splat. That was the only reason I didn’t try to swing my dagger around and stick him in the eye or nostril.
We smashed through yet another wall of foliage, and his clawed feet crunched on the brittle grass beyond it, probably long since dead. Vines and thorns twisted through a gazebo off to the left, the paint peeling and the skillful woodwork splintered and broken. Arching, I could just see a grand entrance to what must be the royal castle.
He stopped before the grungy and cracked marble staircase and let me go.
I screamed as I plummeted toward the ground.
Before I hit, the large shape of the beast quickly reduced down to the man, and his arms snatched me from the air. My dagger clanged against the ground, now out of reach, and he crowded me to his chest as he climbed the steps.
I had expected the smell of sweat and dirt and body odor but was instead surprised by a fresh, light, almost balmy smell of pine and lilac with a hint of honeysuckle. It was the same scent from the wood earlier, when all my senses had gone on high alert for a moment, and it was absolutely divine. It called up an image of a windswept mountain top overlooking a crystalline lake with a mirrored surface. It spoke of comfort and peace and familiarity, feelings so at odds with the moment and this horrible place that I froze as he barged through the doors into an empty foyer. Marble columns rose around us, and the ground had been cleaned to a glossy shine.
“Put me down,” I ground out, trying to wriggle out of his arms.