Her brother’s interest had not diminished at all. After one look at his fidgeting hands and the way he bit his lip, Maeve squinted at him. He was up to something. Her father could threaten Finn with all the monsters and gruesome deaths he could think of without causing the least effect. His curiosity had now reached troubling heights.
He was suspiciously quiet. Maeve eyed him with worry.
“What?” the boy snapped.
“What are you thinking?”
“Nothing! I want to go to bed and sleep. I have fencing training tomorrow. Awfully early! You know how bad I am. I don’t want to find out how bad I am while half asleep.”
Maeve giggled. Her brother always acted silly—and this didn’t seem to be an exception—so her worries were somewhat quelled. Lord O’Riordan thought Finn forgot about the Forest, but she knew better. They both enjoyed the stories, but Finn was obsessed with them. And he was an idiot.
So it was her responsibility to keep an eye on him.
The siblings said their goodnight in the hallway, and Maeve went to bed feeling very much alert.
O’Riordan Castle was a building as old as time. At least on Maeve’s young eyes. Her ancestors had come to these lands decades ago, while most families settled under the protective wings of the capital.
It had been centuries since humans left the Forest to establish a fast-growing kingdom outside its borders. Ancient history failed to recount the reasons behind this exodus, but common folklore was adamant about one thing. The Forest was dangerous. The sheer extension of it, inconceivable, brimming with perilous sorcery and wild beasts. As stated by the Church of the Ancients, magic was a force not to be tampered with, and its heretic notions foreign to humanity’s pure nature.
There were old stories about adventurers risking the wrath of whatever force dwelt within the trees. Those who dared to trespass sought to create a precarious trade route with barbarian tribes. They journeyed in peace for some years, only to be violently expelled without explanation. They came back with tales of wild men and women. Half-breed, they called them, warriors with amazing strength and ferocious appearance.
Those who returned came back terrified, but some never left the Forest—killed by the guardians, undoubtedly.
Ever since, everyone who crossed into the guardians’ territory was swiftly banished.
The kingdom suspended all trade. The risk seemed too great.
Not willing to abandon the riches inside the Forest so easily, many merchants and wealthy noblemen frowned upon the harsh measures. But the claims of heresy by the Church of the Ancients and the ruthless punishment for offenders soon silenced them.
For many decades, the lands near the border were untouched until a noteworthy family made it their home.
The firsts O’Riordans to settle near the Forest gained the label of insane, but since they respected the borders, they lived in peace. Well aware of the guardians keeping tabs on them from the trees, they experienced no close contact. Both sides learned to coexist.
As the rest of the kingdom saw them thrive, more and more farmers dared to join. No one could deny how bountiful their lands were.
A handful of noble families followed their lead, and it soon became common knowledge; the only danger lay behind the thick veil of the greenery. The king declared trespassing as a serious crime and killing a Forest creature punishable by death.
Too big of a threat, in Maeve’s opinion.
The thought of her father being imprisoned, and Finn being killed made her turn and squirm under the covers.
Perhaps for that reason, she was wide awake when she heard the hushed footsteps outside her door. She got up immediately, put on her leather shoes and a coat before entering the corridor. The castle slept, engulfed in shadows. The footsteps were fading, so she followed.
Even in absolute darkness, she knew her way around the castle. The tall ceilings and narrow corridors, cold and uninviting at that time of night, charted clearly on her mind. Every tapestry and every rug completed the picture. Every corner and passageway was part of her territory.
Ignoring the front door, Maeve slipped to the kitchens instead.
Upon entering the huge, cluttered room, she heard the door to the courtyard close and hurried. Not to lose track of her brother, she rushed through the empty yard. She moved in silence, narrowing her eyes as she followed the shadow that escaped past the servant’s quarters.
They crossed the garden and out of their family’s home. Unlike the coolness inside the castle, the night was warm and humid; the air around her heavy. Foul weather was on its way, and Maeve, pretty much annoyed, scowled at the looming clouds.
Finn will spend the rest of his life grounded if he goes any further. She thought.
The wet grass soaked her shoes, unsuitable for a walk in the field. Soon, she found it increasingly difficult to move forward without betraying her presence. Finn didn’t seem near to stopping and Maeve feared where her brother headed.
Heavy clouds that threatened to release a downpour at any moment veiled the moon. Maeve noticed the omnipresent shadows of the Forest getting closer with each step.
Maeve frowned. He wouldn’t dare!
She had to stop him. Not only did she fear her father’s punishment, the possibility of becoming ogre food felt too real. “Finn!”
The boy jumped, startled by her closeness. He hadn’t caught on to her presence, too focused on his goal to enter the Forest. He raised his arms and yelled. “What are you doing? It’s too risky. Go back to your room!”
Finn retraced his steps until he reached Maeve, quite upset with the interruption. The Forest was within reach; the first trees rose in front of them, hiding the storm about to break loose.
His scowl vanished as soon as he caught up with her. Maeve was pale, her little feet soaked. She was only seven years old, and it was unhealthy for someone so young to get sick from the cold.
Finn—well aware of it, too—took off his coat and covered his sister with
