A Strange Hymn
Page 70

I step away from him, grimacing a little. “Where’s Mara?” I ask, looking over his shoulder.
Something about this situation is off, but what?
“Mourning her beloved trees,” he says, not taking his amber eyes off of me.
“I admit, I was utterly titillated when you struck down those oaks.” He shakes his head. “That brute human logic of yours does indeed stir things up around here.”
The Green Man reaches for me again. I slap his hand away. That earns me a nefarious smile. “The one wife I couldn’t have, the one soul I couldn’t claim.”
My skin goes cold. “What are you talking about?”
“Did you miss me while I was away?” He begins to circle me. “I’ve looked forward to chatting with you since our last little encounter in the Fauna Kingdom.”
Chapter 50
I walked Des and myself into a trap. One I can’t figure out.
Des’s father back from the dead, and the Green Man claiming to have memories he shouldn’t.
The Green Man smooths down his shirtfront, looking at his body. “This bloody sot died long ago.”
I swallow, beginning to back up.
“Deep in the forest, the Green Man met a stranger who wanted to harvest the most peculiar fruit.” The Green Man—or whoever this guy really is—laughs. “The weakling sought to strike me down.” He flashes me a sly smile. “But I am a hard thing to kill.
“He died, I lived, and I indeed harvested the most magnificent fruit.” He lifts his hands, gesturing to the bloody trees around us.
He was responsible for the disappearances?
I’m itching to reach beneath the hem of my dress and grab my daggers. Slowly, my hand moves to my skirts. I begin to hike the material up slowly.
Keep him distracted.
“How did you hide this from Mara?” I ask.
No wonder the Flora Queen was utterly uninterested in her mate. Whoever this man is, it doesn’t sound like he’s the true Green Man. Which means she’s been living with an imposter for who knows how long.
He laughs. “You mean her bleeding trees? She thought they were dying of rot—which they are—and she sought to hide it from her kingdom. Little known fact: trees die when Flora rulers are too weak to sustain their kingdom. She feared she was losing her hold on her reign.”
I continue to gather the fabric of my skirt in my hand.
“And Karnon?” I ask. “How did you infiltrate his kingdom?”
The Green Man’s eyes alight. “Ah, Karnon. That mad, clever king was my greatest conquest yet. To slip into a skin not yet dead … It was effortful, to say the least.
My flesh crawls. How could I not have noticed before the lingering wrongness of this man?
“But, as you saw, living bodies have their drawbacks. I fought with his mind for dominance, and I didn’t always win.”
Karnon’s split personality! The mad king had still been in there when this body snatcher took it over.
But … how?
The Green Man continues talking, unaware of my thoughts. “That animal made you in his likeness to escape me. He sought an end to his life by provoking the King of the Night, and what better way to do so than to harm the Night King’s mate?”
I’ve hiked up almost all of my skirt. So close to my daggers.
“What are you?” I ask.
For one second, his body morphs. Inky black hair and eyes replace the Green Man’s more vibrant ones. His skin pales, his features turning sinister.
Those upturned eyes, that pouty mouth and plaited hair. I’ve seen that face before! It’s that of the dark haired man from my most recent nightmare.
“What is a body really?” he says. “Something that constrains you, something that perishes.
The illusion dissipates, and he’s the Green Man once more.
“I have a thousand eyes and even more souls. I am what happens when even darkness dies. Look at me, and see the truth.”
I do look at him. I can’t bear to take my eyes off of him. This is the man who has hidden thousands of soldiers and raped thousands more.
The Thief of Souls.
Chapter 51
I desperately grasp one of my daggers. The metal makes a slick sound as I pull it out of my thigh holster.
He smiles at the sight. “Come now, Callypso. Have I not just warned you that killing me is pointless?”
“Stay away from me,” I warn him, lifting the weapon.
“Alas, I cannot. You, my sweet, have presented me with a unique problem,” he rubs his lower jaw as he talks. “A prophecy demands you must die in order for me to get what I want, but if you do, you are beyond my reach.”
Above us, the sky quakes as my mate battles on with his father.
“What is it that you want?”
He grins again, the sight unsettling me. “Wouldn’t you like to know. Riddle me this:” he says, “why would a thief such as me steal as many soldiers as I have?”
That’s one of the many things I could never figure out about this mystery.
“Think on it, enchantress.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Would you prefer slave?” he asks. “Personally, I think you seem ill-suited to the title, but if that’s what you desire …”
I begin to back up. “I don’t understand—what does Galleghar have to do with any of this?” I ask. Even now the sky thunders with the sounds of father and son.
The Thief of Souls now smiles. “There’s an old prophetess who can answer that question—for a price. One way or another you’ll figure it out.”
I fight the next question that leaves my lips. I know it’s no use asking; no answer will be good enough. I ask anyway.
“Why are you doing this?”
His eyes seem to dance. “Perhaps it is time for you to learn more about me, as I have you.” He reaches out to me again, cupping my cheek.
All my confusion, all of my fear and rage, pulls the siren from her depths.
As my skin illuminates, I swipe out at the Green Man with my dagger, relishing the moment the blade meets flesh.
A normal fairy would’ve flinched from the pain, but he doesn’t react. Doesn’t even bother moving his hand. He just continues to talk. “I do have one problem, enchantress. As exquisite as I find you, you are beyond my control. There is, however, a remedy for that.”
Moving so fast I can barely follow, he grabs my dagger-wielding arm and twists.
I let out a cry, half in pain, half in rage. Bringing my heel up, I slam my foot into his chest, knocking him away.
He chuckles, the sound like nails on a chalkboard. He holds up my dagger. “Missing something?”
Shit.
Hastily, I reach for my remaining dagger. My gown is already bloody and shredded. I look like a wraith, like a ghost come to haunt these cursed woods.
My hand closes on the weapon’s labradorite handle, and I draw it out.
Des and his father continue to duel overhead, the air thick with their magic.
I shift my weight, tossing my dagger from hand to hand. Somewhere along the way, I became comfortable with the weapon.
The Thief smiles, and then he charges.
Unlike Des’s father, the Thief of Souls cannot appear and disappear at will. He can, however, harness the Green Man’s power.
The oaks begin to hiss and shake, their large bodies bending to swipe at me.
I duck and dodge the attacks as I square off with my opponent, my body thrumming with energy.
I can do this all day.