The Broken Forest by Megan Derr Read Free Book Online

because he fled here and the forest severed itself so he could not escape into the Laughing Forest and out of the queendom. The popular theory in my mother's day was that the forest itself is being punished."
    Adamina's mouth quirked. "What do you think?"
    "I think somebody probably did something stupid, and eventually it spiraled out of control. That is how such things most often happen." She finished off the nuts and pulled two apples from her bag, tossing one to Adamina. "Do they have different theories at the palace?"
    "If so, I've never heard them," Adamina said. "But usually I work further north, in the mountains a few days travel from my home—my parents' home, really, but I'm so rarely in one place long enough for it to be worth taking rooms of my own. I have a room in the west wing that overlooks the lake and the night gardens. I used to sneak out to the gardener's cabin in the far corner of the property; he'd let me sip his wine while he told me stories, then took me back to my room when I invariably fell asleep." Her smile turned sad. "He died a few years ago, while I was far away in the mountains and nearly got buried by a damned avalanche."
    Grete reached out and squeezed her hand. "I'm sorry."
    Adamina smiled briefly in thanks. "Your cabin reminds me of it, actually. It was always filled with roses—that's what my father's gardens mostly consist of, he's quite fond. They're why my parents met, actually."
    "They met in a rose garden? How appropriate."
    Laughing, Adamina finished her apple and threw the core into the woods. "No, no. They met because my grandfather stole a rose to give to my mother, and it angered my father, scared Grandpapa to death. My mother arrived the very next day to give my father a dressing down. The rest of the story you'd have to hear from them; I could never do it justice." She took a large gulp of water, then stowed the skin. "So where are we headed next, witch?"
    "Across the stream and up a steep hill. Unless my memory deceives me, we go up for quite a bit, then right back down again and through a particularly dense stretch of forest. We'll know we're on the right path when we start running into the thorns. They're huge, black, and hurt something fierce."
    "Ugh, thorns," Adamina muttered as they climbed to their feet and headed down along the stream toward the abandoned mill.
    There were signs that a bridge had once spanned the stream, but the bridge itself seemed long gone, the pylons crumbling and mildewed, little more than a place for birds to pause before diving after fish or darting after bugs. "I guess we're doing this the hard way." She swung her pack off her back and hefted it, eyed the far bank thoughtfully—then heaved and threw, cheering when it landed precisely where she had wanted.
    Grete laughed as she handed over her own bag. "Do mine, too. If I try that it will wind up dead center of the stream."
    "As you wish." Adamina threw the bag, which landed just up the bank from her own. Carrying her sword and bow so they wouldn't get wet, she waded into the water and started across. The water was cold, moving faster than she would have expected.
    The stream was also filled with fish that would make a fine meal for most, except that even they were likely poisoned with rapunzel. How far had the rapunzel spread? How much land and water beyond the Broken Forest had been poisoned? The answers to those questions were probably not going to make anyone happy.
    Reaching the far side, she tossed her weapons up the bank before hoisting herself up—and slipped as her hand grabbed a bundle of grass that proved to be oil-slick, sending her tumbling back into the stream, soaked and cold clear through, swept along—
    And grabbed, hauled close. She came up sputtering, fumbled for a better hold, then wiped water from her face. "Ugh."
    Grete laughed and helped her to her feet. "Are you all right, my lady?"
    "Only my dignity suffered any harm," Adamina said with a sigh. "I will be complaining