A tall, hooded figure had appeared with a double-edged axe, taking a wide-footed stance beside the trembling animal. In one swift motion, the executioner slashed through the wolf’s neck; as it hit the floor rolling, a dismembered human head bounced in its place. Long, strawberry blonde hair, matted in dark blood.
The ten-year-old princess couldn’t scream, couldn’t bring herself to cry. For once in her short lifetime, she regretted rebelling against her parents, regretted her mischievous sense of adventure. All she’d wanted was to help the creature, since what her parents provided was evidently not enough. With the fury inscribed upon her father’s features, Lilac knew her actions had struck change into motion.
There was a price to be paid, and this was only the beginning.
3
After the news of Lilac’s Darkling Tongue had spread, she was confined to royal grounds at the expense of maintaining—or saving—her parents’ reputation. Unallowed to socialize with the other children of nobility and even those of the servants, she immersed herself in her studies. Alchemy had been too technical for her liking, and Philosophy was outright annoying; it was frustrating, taking a course based on the opinions of dead men.
According to her studies, the sprawling forest of central Brittany crawled with the unspeakable. Creatures who looked human by day, but transformed into quadruped, fanged beasts by light of the full moon. Impish brutes who could often be found playing an instrument or recklessly intoxicated—usually both. Bewitching creatures with olive skin and aventurine eyes, who had an affinity for wearing precious family heirlooms plucked from war corpses. Things that stood twice the height and ten times the weight of the burliest Breton soldiers. And human-like parasites that could charm any mortal into letting them feast from her veins. Creatures whom the first settlers were quick to call Darklings.
Living, breathing omens of darkness.
Still, never in a million years did Lilac suspect that her lessons would prove useful in one day preparing her for survival.
As she made her way through the towering trees, the threat of encountering a Darkling in the flesh began to terrify her. All she wanted was for the creatures to leave her alone on her way to Paimpont. Deep down she knew she would come face-to-face with one sooner or later; if it wanted to give her trouble, she was ready. Lilac grasped the handle of her dagger even more tightly.
Dry pine needles twirled down from the branches above, settling into her hair; eventually, she gave up trying to shake them all out. Moonlight shone brightly through patches in the treetops, much to her displeasure. That meant the Darklings wouldn’t need their nocturnal vision to see her tonight. She'd have to make haste if she wished to remain hidden. As long as she traveled northeast and stuck carefully to the thicker areas of wood, she could avoid being spotted from the main roads tracing the forest’s perimeter—most of which did not weave a direct path to Paimpont, unfortunately. After she was reported missing, spotting a young woman running through the trees would certainly raise a red flag to any human passersby.
She gave it until breakfast the next morning for her parents to initiate a kingdom-wide search. She never missed her favorite meal of the day, most days consisting of smoked quail, pastries, and melon sprinkled with honey and goat cheese. Her stomach rumbled loudly, and she retrieved a rather smooshed pastry from her sack to munch on as she continued onward.
Even if she happened to come across anyone who thought she looked familiar, their hunch would remain just that: a hunch. No one outside the castle would know what she looked like after all these years cooped up. Plus, a very new haircut and nine years of anxious humiliation did quite a number on one’s appearance.
She had been walking for just under an hour—or so it felt —in the growing cold, with no sign or sound of a creek. Not even the faint trickle of a brook. Weren’t they supposed to be more common in this lush forest? She never anticipated having trouble finding one. And she really, really had to pee.
In the moonlight she could barely make out the ground flattening to her left. The towering beeches were more scattered here, leaving an empty area with a few dispersed piles of large boulders. It seemed like a safe place to take a quick break. She couldn’t tell if it was a natural or man-made clearing, but perhaps an improved view of the sky through the canopy opening would give her a better perspective of her bearings.
Well, she was almost positive she was still headed east, but there was no real way to tell for certain. Her father once told her the moss in northern forests grew heavily on the north sides of tree trunks. With all the other bullshit that spewed from the king’s mouth, Lilac decided against using this bit of advice as a reliable method for travel.
Leaning against a pile of boulders, she hiked up her dress and squatted to relieve herself. With winter finally retreating, the dew drops of springtime evening began to frost over in the cold without completely turning into ice. The night air was freezing on her bare ass, so she was quick about it.
Just as she peered up through the trees to see if she could tell where the sun would rise, a low rumble cracked across the sky. A few ominous clouds had appeared since the last time she’d checked, one of them threatening to conceal the moon. She exhaled, hoping to expel the growing unease along with it. There was no use in trying to figure it all out on her own, and there was no point in trying to push onward to find the right path tonight. All she needed to focus on was seeking shelter along the river, but at this point she couldn’t even locate a stream to lead her to it.
Lilac felt a wet plop on her cheek. Then, another on the back of her right hand. Flecks of cold rain spat from the cobalt sky. In seconds, the whole forest was alive with the pitter-patter of raindrops beating down upon the leaves.
Perfect.
Suddenly, her world began to shift wayward. The boulder against her back began to topple. Lilac frantically leapt forward and bolted for cover in the nearest thickening of trees.
Something was shifting around behind her. Impossibly, it sounded like the large stones were grating up against one another. She knew she needed to keep running, but curiosity ate at her like the biting cold on her cheeks. Only once she sheltered behind the thick trunk of a sprawling oak did she dare to whip around. There were things—enormous things—moving in the clearing, visible only by the dappled splotches of light.
The boulders had gotten up and began walking.
What she thought were boulders were actually thick legged, callous-skinned creatures, humanoid in stance and towering at least twice her height. There were five that she could make out. They had their noses up in the air, sniffing. Blinking rapidly and willing her vision to better adjust, Lilac eventually made out their stubbed ears, much too tiny for their gigantic bile-green heads.
Ogres.
Heartbeat rushing in her ears, she yanked her head back to conceal herself behind the tree. Had the rain awoken them? Or, she thought embarrassedly, the smell of her urine? Whatever the cause, they concentrated on tracking her scent, the task made difficult in the torrential downpour. Their vision wasn’t worth shit, her tutors had told her so. She would have to make a run for it—regardless of direction, anywhere, far away from the pack of green beasts. Knowing her luck, she would stumble into the nest of something else deadly and—
The thunderous, unmistakable crunch of wood and a loud thud, followed by a moaning screech interrupted her racing thoughts. Flattening her body against the trunk as much as she possibly could, she peered just a hair off to the right; two hundred yards away and across the clearing, an enormous beech had been ripped clean in half, its top now lying on the ground beside the base of its splintered trunk.