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Aline sliced through another vine, grumbling as it brushed against her face. She sheathed her knife back at her hip. The forest was beautiful, but it was hard to get through. There were vines and branches everywhere. It was quite annoying.
She walked deeper and deeper into the forest, staring down at her map. It looked like she was heading in the right direction, which was good. She had already been slowed down, if she was late it could fuck up relations between Idris and The Downworld Republic, and worse, her mother would be mad. She did not want to invoke the wrath of Jia Penhallow, so here Aline was. Traveling through a haunted forest by herself.
This forest had another name, an actual one, but everyone just called it Blackthorn Forest. They said it was haunted, that a spirit killed the people who traveled through it or the forest itself spat them out. Aline hadn’t believed it at first, but that was before she had entered the forest.
Now, after two days traveling and sleeping there, she wasn’t so sure.
Sometimes, it was like the vines crept around her ankles and legs, the trees swayed in her path. She was probably seeing things, but it was still creepy.
But that was why her mother had sent her, one of Idris’ best knights. She would not cower. She would brave Blackthorn Forest.
Aline continued on, keeping an eye on the trees and the vines and her hand on her knives. Most knights preferred swords, but not her. Maybe that was because of the magic flowing through her veins, inherited from a faerie in her mother’s family.
She still kept a sword on her though.
To keep her mind off the forest, she thought about home. About her mother and father waiting for her, about how she would hug them when she came back. About her friends, Alec and Isabelle and Jace, who she would train with again. About the grounds of her house that she would step on, would lay on after hours of throwing knives farther and farther until she couldn’t see them.
Her thoughts almost kept her from not hearing the noise. Almost.
She leapt up into the trees, nimbly climbing up the trunk and into the branches. Aline unsheathed her knife with a shing, it shining in the faint sunlight, and surveyed the forest.
The attack came from behind.
Something slithered around her ankle, tightening and pulling her out of the tree. She screamed as she fell, before whatever was around her ankles caught, leaving her bouncing and upside down in mid air.
From what Aline could see, once her vision stopped spinning, was a monster.
It was made of vines and branches and the forest itself, tall and strange looking, with a carved piece of wood for a face. Weird. She had never seen anything like it.
She did her best to look intimidating, like the knight she was, despite the fact she was hanging upside down from vines.
“Who are you?” the creature asked, voice muffled. It’s “face” did not move.
“My name is Aline Penhallow. I am a knight of Idris,” Aline answered. “I seek safe passage to The Downworld Republic. It’s a really important matter. I mean no harm.”
You mean no harm, Aline Penhallow?” It almost sounded like it was laughing at her. “Do you mean you have not sliced through everything that’s come in your path since you entered my forest? Not the vines, the branches, the animals?”
She winced. Right. She had done that. “Sorry. I thought they were just plants, like any other forest ever.”
Maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say, but still. She wasn’t completely in the wrong.
The creature didn’t seem impressed. “Why did you not stay on the main road?”
“It was blocked by a huge tree.”
“Huh. Good point.” The creature still raised it’s gigantic arms, ready to strike. “Still, you should not have come here. Go back to Idris, and tell your people to stay on the main road.”
The creature moved forward, it’s body slithering over the roots and grass, and that’s when Aline moved.
She swung forward, grabbing her knives from her belt and throwing them up, feeling them as they whistled through the air. They curved, slicing through the vines holding her ankles. She landed lightly on the ground, catching her knives.
“I told you,” she said. “It’s really important. Please let me pass.”
“Just because you have magic doesn’t mean I’ll stop.”
She sighed. Of course. “Fine.”
Aline threw her knives, grabbing another pair from her thigh and throwing those ones too. They sliced through its arms, before curving back and landing solidly in her palms. She repeated that motion a few times, slowly weakening it as she leapt around, avoiding the creature and it’s vines.
While she wished she wasn’t fighting, wished that she could still be on her way to the other nation, the fight was thrilling. It was like nothing else, not like sparring with her friends or her teachers. It was more primal, more like the forest they both stood in. The creature moved like poetry, weaving and dodging.
After it was weakened, taking longer to add more vines to its body, she got out her sword. Aline sprung off a tree trunk, landing on the creatures head and digging her sword in. Holding onto the handle, she slid down, cutting through it’s mask and it’s body.
When she reached the ground, she was panting, but satisfied. It had to be dead after that. It’s body was falling apart in front of her.
Finally, the vines and branches and roots collapsed.
Revealing someone.
Not just someone. A girl. A beautiful girl.
She was tall, with blonde hair that reached her waist and bright blue-green eyes. Her features were delicate, and she blended in with the forest, somehow looking like she belonged there.
Aline spotted why a moment later.
Her ears were pointy.
“You’re half-fae,” she said, sheathing her sword. “And half Nephilim. That’s why you could control the vines.”
The girl glared at her. “Yes. I am Helen Blackthorn. You still need to leave.”
Blackthorn. Like the forest’s name. “Why?” Aline asked. “I’m just bringing over a new peace treaty from Idris. That’s it. I really don’t mean you any harm.”
Her eyes widened slightly, but she still looked hostile. “Truly?”
She nodded. “Truly.”
“Good,” Helen said, turning around. “Then you may be on your way. Do not kill again.”
“Wait!” The word burst from her mouth. She knew she should be heading for The Downworld Republic, but she was curious. Who was this half-fae girl? Why did she protect her forest so fiercely?
Why did she make her heart thump faster, her hands ache?
“What?”
“Why do you protect your forest? It can’t be just because you care a lot about the plants, because you were ready to kill me over it.”
Her face softened slightly. “I wasn’t going to kill you. I’m not a murderer. But you are right, it’s not just for the plants.”
“Then why?” She was probably going too far, but at the moment Aline didn’t care.
“Because . . . well, you should come see,” Helen said. She beckoned her with one hand as she walked forward. She followed.
The vines moved out of her path, the branches arching about her and the roots creeping out of her way like snakes. It was frightening and fascinating, how Blackthorn Forest bended to her will.
She wished her power was like that. She could bend what she could throw, which was useful, but it was nothing as beautiful as this.
In a few moments, they were there.
A cottage stood in the middle of a sun-lit clearing. About six people stood outside the cottage, in the grass. One of them, with hair as black as ink, studied something in his hand, while another ran in a circle, arms outstretched like a bird. While only one of them was blonde, it was obvious that they were siblings, obvious that they loved each other.
“This is my family.” She said the word family with such softness, smiling at the thought. Aline’s breath caught in her throat. She looked so beautiful when she smiled. “Our parents are dead, so I take care of them. My brother and I were exiled from Idris for being half-fae, and they came with us. We have been stuck here ever since. I can’t let anything happen to them, do you understand?”
“Yes,” she said softly. “I do understand.” She might not have had siblings, but she had her parents and her friends. If something happened to them on her watch . . .
“Good. Then you will not hurt them.”
“I would never,” Aline swore. “Has anyone tried?”
Helen nodded. “Once. Only Mark and I are half-fae, but our siblings are lumped in with us, so he attacked all of us. I took care of him.” She said the last part with a savage smirk, one that made her shiver in a mixture of fear and something else.
It made sense that some Nephilim would want to hurt her family, after the war with the Seelies a decade ago. Still, it did not mean it was right. It did not mean that she and her family should be exiled.
“I have to deliver this peace treaty,” she said. “But when I get back to Idris, I will break your exile. I will bring you home, Helen Blackthorn.”
Helen’s eyes shined at Aline’s words. “Really?”
“Yes. I swear it.”
She wasn’t quite sure why she was swearing to break the exile of a girl she had just met. There were logical reasons, that it wasn’t fair and that it would make the forest easier to cross. But then there were the emotional reasons, the longing she felt in her breast when she looked at the girl. A feeling like what the poets wrote about.
And then Helen grabbed the collar of her tunic and pulled her into a kiss.
And then Aline knew exactly why.
She had kissed boys before, hot and wet and nothing special. They were just kisses, just another thing her body could do. They weren’t pleasurable. They were kind of gross.
But when Helen kissed her, she understood what kissing was supposed to be. Still hot, still wet, but special. So special. Like it lit a fire inside her, and every second they spent with their lips pressed together fanned it.
They broke apart almost violently.
“Go, Aline Penhallow,” she said, a little breathy. “But come back for me.”
She nodded. It hurt to turn around, hurt to leave Helen, but she would come back.
She would come back to free her.
She would come back, and Aline would kiss her again.