Aelin looked like she might argue, but then she stared at the cloak and jacket at her feet and wrapped them around her shivering form.
And when Rowan turned to go back to the fortress, she followed.
Rowan's POV:
It had been a week since the skinwalker attack, and even though Rowan had made good on his promise to have Aelin pull double duty in the kitchens, so far the two of them had managed to avoid killing each other.
Aelin's attempts at shifting, however, had remained unsuccessful. The instincts that had caused her power to come when called had all but vanished. And since Rowan wasn't eager to put himself in mortal danger again, they needed a new plan.
He'd been bringing Aelin to the temple ruins, hoping the faint traces of Mala's power would trigger hers. They were already hours into today's visit, and since Rowan had commanded quiet there was nothing but the howling wind to keep him entertained.
He could shift and leave Aelin to her own devices for a few hours... perhaps she'd be more successful without him looming over her.
Just as the thought had crossed his mind, Aelin let out a groan of exasperation, whirling to face him with her hands on her hips.
"What was this place anyway?" She asked, looking around at the crumbling ruins.
"The Sun Goddess's temple," Rowan said, watching as Aelin moved to study a pile of white stones. Rowan drifted closer, leaning over her shoulder. They were glowing, the soft white light almost ethereal.
"You've been bringing me here because you think it might help– with mastering my powers?" She asked, placing a hand on one of the worn stones and tracing a particularly jagged line with her finger. "Mab was immortalized into godhood thanks to Maeve... but that was over five hundred years ago. Mala had a sister in the moon long before Mab took her place."
Rowan nodded in confirmation. "Deanna was the original sisters name. But you humans gave her some of Mab's traits. The hunting, the hounds."
"Perhaps Deanna and Mala weren't always rivals."
"What are you getting at?"
Aelin shrugged, her hands continuing their path along the stone. "Did you ever know Mab?"
Rowan considered not telling her, but then again she'd probably just pester him until he relented. "No," he said. "I am old, but not that old."
"Do you feel old?"
There it was again, that irrevocable curiosity of hers.
Rowan's gaze wandered to the line of hills in the distance, the clouds gathering at their peaks. "I am still considered young by the standards of my kind."
Aelin wasn't satisfied with that answer. "You said that you once campaigned in a kingdom that no longer exists. You've been off to war several times, it seems, and seen the world. That would leave its mark. Age you on the inside."
Interesting, how easily she seemed to understand. "Do you feel old?" He asked, his eyes meeting hers for the first time she'd they'd started this conversation.
Aelin's gaze flickered, and then she said, "These days, I am very glad to be mortal and to only have to endure this life once. These days, I don't envy you at all."
"And before?" Rowan didn't know why he was pushing, but some part of him wanted to know.
Aelin looked towards the trees, her eyes tracing the same path along the hills he had a moment ago. "I used to wish I had a chance to see it all– and hated that I never would."
Rowan opened his mouth to ask what she meant, but then Aelin was moving again. She brushed the dust off one stone, revealing a faint carving of a stag beneath. "Is this where the stags were kept– before this place was destroyed?"
"I don't know," he said honestly. "This temple wasn't destroyed, it was abandoned when the Fae moved to Doranelle and then ruined by time and winter."
"Emrys' stories said destroyed, not abandoned."
"Again, what are you getting at?" If Rowan was giving a history lesson, he would at least like to know why.
"The Fae on my continent– in Terrasen, they weren't like you. At least, I don't remember them being that way. There weren't many but..." she swallowed, pain flickering in her gaze. "The King of Adarlan hunted and killed them so easily. Yet when I look at you, I don't understand how he did it."
Aelin met his gaze over her shoulder, a hand still pressed against the stone. Demanding an answer in that silent, unnerving way of hers.
"I've never been to your continent, but I heard that the Fae there were gentler, less aggressive," Rowan said. "Very few trained in combat, and they relied heavily on magic. Once magic was gone from your lands many of them might not have known what to do against trained soldiers."
"And yet Maeve wouldn't send aid." Aelin's tone was cold, any previous amity or warmth gone.
A week ago, Rowan would have seen this as an opportunity to remind Aelin of her own shortcomings in the wake of Terrasen's downfall, but he held his tongue. "The Fae of your continent long ago severed ties with Maeve. But there were some in Doranelle who argued in favor of helping. My queen wound up offering sanctuary to any who could make it here."
Aelin didn't bother with a retort, and she was quiet as she abandoned the stag carving and turned her back on Rowan.
He didn't bother asking her what was wrong.
•••
The following day, Rowan was already waiting in Aelin's room when she returned from kitchen duty.
"You're already late," he said, watching as she brushed past him and shrugged off her jacket.
"There were extra dishes this morning," she said, her fingers reworking her hair into a braid as she turned to face him. "Can I expect to do something useful with you today or will it be more sitting and growling and glaring? Or will I just wind up chopping wood for hours on end?"
She was angry today. Good. Rowan could work with anger. It was better than silence and sorrow.
He didn't bother with a response, but she followed him out the door and down the hall nevertheless. They passed two sentries, both of whom offered a shocked, wary grin in response to Aelin's smile.
Aelin frowned, and Rowan guessed that wasn't the first time she'd had that experience. As if she'd sensed his attention, Aelin gave him a questioning look, the demand for answers clear.
He waited until they were well away from the fortress to explain it to her.
"They've all been keeping their distance because of the scent you put out."
"Excuse me?" Aelin squawked, her eyebrows practically disappearing into her hair.
Rowan smirked. She really had no idea, did she?
"There are more males than females here, and they're fairly isolated from the world. Haven't you wondered why they haven't approached you?"
"They stayed away from me because I smell?" Aelin all but shrieked.
Rowan honestly had to suppress a laugh at how red her face was. "Your scent says that you don't want to be approached. The males smell it more than the females and they've been staying the hell away. They don't want their faces clawed off."
Aelin was quiet for a moment. Then she said, "Good. I'm not interested in men– males."
Rowan cast a pointed look at the ring on her finger. He'd avoided mentioning it, but this seemed like a safe enough time to broach the subject. "What happens if you become queen? Will you refuse a potential alliance through marriage?"
Rowan could sense the dread that consumed Aelin, the horror and rage that settled into irritation once she realized his game. "Nice try," she scoffed, rolling eyes.
Rowan grinned. "You're learning."
"You get baited by me every now and then too you know," she said.
Rowan shot her a look. I let you bait me, there's a difference.
Aelin glared back, shaking her head at him. "Where the hell are we going today? We never head west."
Rowan's smile fell. "You wanted to do something useful. So here's your chance."
•••
It was hours before they reached their destination. It was usually a quick trip, but Rowan had to account for the limits of Aelin's human form. This would all be so much easier if she could just shift.
Nevertheless, Rowan had slowed his pace.
Now, he was following the markers he'd left on stones and trees as they moved through the pine forest. Aelin was trailing behind, quiet for once. He sensed a wave of hunger and lightheadedness from her and sent a cool breeze her way. Her sigh of relief faded into the background as Rowan shifted through the smells of salt and fish from the nearby ocean, searching for the scent he'd been tracking all morning.
Once he'd found it, Rowan scanned their surroundings for the source. His eyes caught on the trampled brush by the stream, and then the vague human shape wedged between the rocks.
There was a beat of silence, and then Aelin swore.
A husk. That was all that was left of the Fae female lying on the riverbank, her body drained and emptied of life. Her skin had been leached of color, her face hollowed out and frozen in an expression of horror and despair. There were no visible wounds, except for the lines of dried blood leaking from her nose and ears. The worst part was the smell, a stench worse than the skinwalkers, dark and unnatural and foul.
"What did this?" Aelin whispered, her eyes scanning the riverbank like it would provide the answer. "Why not just dump her in the sea? Leaving her in a stream seems idiotic. They left tracks too, unless those are from whoever found her."
"Malakai gave me the report this morning, and he and his men are trained not to leave tracks," Rowan said. "But this scent... I'll admit it's different."
He stepped into the stream, circling the female's form. Rowan could sense Aelin's unease, her desire to run back to the fortress and hide. Still, she stayed. And there was something in her gaze... she felt it too. The vicious, unrelenting rage that had been teeming underneath Rowan's skin since Malakai had brought him his report. The urge to find whatever did this and tear it limb from limb.
He turned to Aelin, unable to keep the disdain from his voice as he said, "So you tell me, assassin. You wanted to be useful."
Aelin bristled at his tone, and for a moment Rowan thought she might attack then and there. But then she looked at the broken husk at her feet and her anger faded. No... redirected.
Equal parts disgusted and wary, Aelin sniffed. Then, she froze. The scent of her fear filled the air, and Rowan buried a growl.
"You claimed you didn't know what that thing in the barrow field was," Aelin said, her voice shaking ever so slightly. "I think this is what it does."
Rowan couldn't trust himself to speak without snarling, so he stayed quiet. He scanned Aelin from head to toe, remembering how she'd looked when she'd come hurtling out of that darkness. Pale and weak and trembling. As if she'd had the life drained out of her.
"You came out of that darkness looking as if someone had sucked the life from you. Your skin was a shade paler, your freckles gone."
Aelin shuddered. "It forced me to go through memories. The worst kind. Have you ever heard of a creature that can feed on such things? When I glimpsed it, I saw a man. A beautiful man– pale and dark haired, with eyes of full black. He wasn't human," she said, shaking her head. "I mean, he looked it but his eyes– they weren't human at all."
A creature that could access a persons worse memories, beautiful as a god but able to drain even Fae of life? Rowan had never encountered anything like that, he doubted even Maeve had. "Even my queen doesn't know every foul creature roaming these lands," he told Aelin. "If the skinwalkers are venturing down from the mountains, perhaps other things are too."
"The townspeople might know something," Aelin offered. "Maybe they've seen it or heard rumors."
Rowan considered that for a moment, then shook his head. "We don't have the time. You wasted daylight by coming here in your human form. We have an hour before we head back, make the most of it."
•••
They tracked the creature's scent to the edge of cliff overlooking the sea. There was no obvious path to the narrow strip of sand below, nothing but rocks and turquoise water that looked far too beautiful given the husk only minutes from its shores.
"It doesn't make sense," he muttered, more to himself than Aelin. "This is the fourth body in the last few weeks– none of them have been reported missing."
Rowan crouched down, tracing a line in the dirt to represent Wendlyn's coastline. "They've been found here," he said, marking each spot where the bodies had been discovered. Another dot for their current location. Rowan leaned back, studying his makeshift map.
"And yet you and I encountered the creature lurking amongst the barrow wights here." He drew an X where the barrow fields were, far from any of the husks. "I haven't seen any further signs of it remaining by the barrows, and the wights have returned to their usual habits."
It didn't make any sense. There was no pattern, no connection beside the bodies all being relatively close to the water.
Aelin studied the map, intent and focused. "Were the other bodies the same?"
"All were drained like this, with expressions of terror on their faces– not a hint of a wound, beyond dried blood at the nose and ears," Rowan said, ignoring the rush of irritation that he could offer nothing more, that he even needed to ask Aelin for help.
If the princess noticed, she didn't seem to care. "All dumped in the forest, not the sea?"
Rowan nodded.
"But all within walking distance of the water?"
Another nod.
"If it were a skilled, sentient killer, it would hide the bodies better. Or, again, use the sea," she said, looking towards the sea and the sun beginning to make its descent towards the water. "Or maybe it doesn't care. Maybe it wants us to know what it's doing. There were... there were times when I left bodies so that they'd be found by a certain person, or to send a type of message. What do the victims have in common?"
"I don't know," Rowan admitted. "We don't even know their names or where they came from."
Aelin opened her mouth, no doubt to suggest they venture down into the village again, but Rowan rose to his feet and brushed the dirt off of his hands. "We need to return to the fortress," he said. Quick, firm. No room for argument.
Of course, that didn't stop Aelin. As he turned towards the trees, she grabbed his elbow and pulled him backward. "Wait, have you seen enough of the body?"
Rowan nodded, and Aelin sniffed the air again. Committing the creatures scent to memory, he realized. "Then we've got to bury her."
"The grounds too hard here," he said, though there was no real bite to his words.
Aelin turned, disappearing into the trees. "Then we'll do it the ancient way," she called over her shoulder.
So Rowan watched as she pulled the body from the stream, gathered branches for kindling and the knelt beside it. He didn't say anything about her pathetic attempts at lighting a fire by hand. And once she'd gotten the pine needles to crinkle and smoke, he moved to stand beside her and sent a warm breeze to fuel the fire.
He felt it then, as they stood and watched the female's corpse being consumed by the flames. Felt Aelin try to draw her power up from wherever it slumbered, to have it feed the flames as well. There was nothing though, no fire or flashing light.
Still, Rowan stood by her side until the Fae woman was nothing but ashes, his wind carrying her above the trees and towards the sea.
UPDATED: 8/19/19