The Broken Forest by Megan Derr Read Free Book Online Page B

attacking Edge. Once that's done, I'll see you home and then return to the royal palace for help."
    "I'm sorry."
    "Thank you," Adamina said quietly. She sighed and slid to her feet, retrieved the waterskin Grete must have set on the ground at some point, put it back in her pack. Settling the pack on her back, she adjusted her cloak until it fell comfortably and looked to Grete, who stood waiting as well. "Shall we, witch?"
    Grete smiled and stepped in close, curled her fingers around the back of Adamina's neck, leaned up to kiss her softly. "I do wish we were meeting under happier circumstances, my lady, but I am glad we have met." She stepped back and turned away before Adamina could reply, humming softly as they headed out.
    Adamina fell into step behind her, ignoring the protests of her sore, tired body as they continued weaving, climbing, fighting their way through the woods.
    They finally started going downhill after another hour or so, and not long after that they came upon the thorns. As Grete had promised, they were large, black, and painful. Adamina tripped on a snarl of vines and roots and managed to ram her palm directly on one sharp, jutting thorn. "Damn it!" Gritting her teeth against the throbbing, stabbing pain spreading through her hand, Adamina fumbled out a handkerchief from a pocket in her cloak and pressed it to the hole in her palm. "What kind of thorns are these? I thought I had seen everything, but these are new to me."
    Grete shook her head. "I don't know. Likely they were something entirely harmless once, and have been warped like everything else."
    Adamina sighed. She studied her wound critically, then pulled out supplies to bandage it properly. Grete took the supplies from her and set deftly to work; Adamina was more than content to let her. "At least the thorns don't appear to be poisonous. I hope." She wiggled her fingers when Grete finished. "It still feels like someone stabbed a knife through my hand, but it's easing off. Thank you."
    "Of course," Grete said with a smile. "You do like to get injured, don't you?"
    Adamina laughed. "No, actually, but I seem to have a knack for it anyway." She tucked the supplies back in her bag and once more stood, settling the pack into place. "Onward, and hopefully I will stop trying to get myself killed, at least through sheer clumsiness."
    "Remind me to tell you about the time I accidentally locked myself in my own cellar."
    "I will definitely remind you," Adamina replied, grinning. "That is a story I need to hear. Sounds like something I would do to myself I had my own house."
    Returning the grin, Grete turned and headed off again. They carefully worked their way through the tangle of thorn-covered trees and shrubs, the ground half-covered with even more of them.
    It was dark when they finally reached their destination. Adamina was so exhausted she could sleep for at least a month, and her stomach long ago had given up complaining of hunger.
    The tower loomed before them like a patch of night with no stars. The field surrounding it was completely covered in rapunzel bushes, the smell of them dizzying, nauseating. From what little she could see, they were snarled in the black thorns. No, not snarled… they were caged by the black thorns. The forest was doing its damnedest to save itself. "That's going to be fun to deal with in the morning." She cracked a yawn, eyes watering.
    Grete rested her head against Adamina's shoulder, overtaken by a huge yawn herself. "I know we have little choice, but I wish we did not have to wait until morning. Sleeping here makes me twitchy."
    "We'll be all right. After all the trouble we had getting here, I refuse to let us be anything else. We will be sleeping in the trees tonight, though."
    "That sounds comfortable," Grete said with a sigh that turned into another yawn. She straightened. "Which trees?"
    "There," Adamina replied, pointing to one a few paces to their right. "It's got two branches big and sturdy enough, so we'll be