He woke sometime before dawn, feeling more drained than he had the day before. Benny, too, looked as though he had not slept at all, despite the fact that he had settled down long before Castiel. The older man didn't say anything, but simply shrugged and began packing up his gear. Castiel followed suit and pulled his cloak around him, fastening it at his shoulder with a plain buckle made of bone.
"We'll walk from here," Benny rasped. "After, I'll wait for you here. If you find Meg, bring her to the hut."
"How long will you wait?"
"A week," Benny told him. "After that, I'll take the horses back to the castle."
Castiel shivered, but nodded, and there was no more conversation until they reached the edge of the trees. They were as eerily quiet as the abandoned village had been the night before; he could hear no birdsong coming from the trees, or small animals rustling through the bushes.
Benny walked down the road, staying well away from the tree line, and finally stopped at a section of the woods that sported two ancient-looking wooden posts. They were blackened, as though someone had been burned on them. The trees there sported long, jutting limbs, perfect for ropes.
"This is where they killed them?" Castiel asked.
"Yeah. But more than that, this is where we found the heads," Benny said quietly. "Two of them were on top of the posts. The rest were lined up on the ground between them. Whatever took Meg, it took her from this spot."
Castiel nodded and stepped forward. "I'll see you in a week."
Benny clapped him on the back. "Brother, I sure hope so."
Castiel didn't respond, and strode forward into the forest without looking back.
From the moment that he stepped under the trees, Castiel felt weak, his legs growing heavy as if there was some huge, unseen weight pressing down on his shoulders. The protection amulet that Ruby had given him burned against his chest, sending warmth outward from his heart until the weight lifted and he could move freely again.
Even so, the air around him was thick and heavy, settling wetly in his lungs and making each breath a chore. It was hotter under the trees, too, reminding Castiel of the middle of summer despite the fact that autumn was beginning to flow into winter for the rest of the land. Azazel had deliberately scheduled Castiel and Meg's wedding to be at the turning of the seasons, when the leaves were full of color, in order to give them a more beautiful backdrop for their wedding. He couldn't deny that the man had a sense of romance.
The path in front of him was so narrow that leaves brushed against his shoulders with every step. For a moment he debated calling out Meg's name, to see if she was nearby, but thought better of it. If she had been near the entrance to the woods, she surely would've gotten out by now, and if someone or something had taken her, they would hear him calling.
Moving carefully, Castiel looked for any signs of human life around him. Benny had told him briefly during their ride that Meg had been wearing trousers and a man's shirt during the hunt instead of a gown, so he looked for any scraps of fabric clinging to branches or footprints on the path. He found neither.
As he walked deeper into the woods, the path seemed to widen, doubling in size. When he turned to look behind him, he saw that not only was the rest of the path larger, but that there were no footprints in the dirt to mark that he had been there. Looking down at his boots, he saw that they were perfectly clean, free of not only the dirt in the forest, but of the dirt that he had accumulated during his journey to Hangman's Wood with Benny. Lifting one foot, he stared at the trail, and watched, fascinated, as the ground underneath him rose as if being inflated, eliminating his footprints.
Frowning, he tested the ground again, heavily stomping on the packed dirt and then lifting his foot. It plumped again.
Uneasy, he continued forward, reaching one hand down to curl it around his sword. The blade was quieter, too, hardly humming at his touch. The leaves on the trees wavered, but Castiel felt no breeze in the air. Stopping again, he turned around and saw that the path behind him was closed, replaced by a wall of tree branches and shrubbery that had silently crept in while his back was turned.
Remembering Ruby's words, he drew his sword. It shimmered in the faint light filtering through the trees, and hummed louder. Gripping it with both hands, he swung it at the tree branches blocking his way and smiled when the sword sliced through them as easily as a hot knife going through butter. They fell to the ground with a satisfying crash, the motion sending the leaves spiraling into the air before floating back down to rest in the dirt.
His excitement died when he saw that there was another layer of branches behind the ones he'd cut through.
Squatting down on his heels, Castiel picked up one of the leaves and rubbed them, wincing while he did. Unlike real leaves, they felt thick and rubbery, and almost like they were covered in some sort of slime. When he dropped it, he could still feel the residue clinging to his fingers, and wiped them on his tunic, shuddering when the feeling stayed.
Suddenly, a crow screamed, breaking the perfect silence of the forest. Springing to his feet, Castiel turned in a circle, brandishing his sword in front of him. He stopped when he saw a crow swoop down and land on the branch closest to him. The bird tilted its head at him and screamed again, gleaming black beak opening wide. The bird's feathers, too, gleamed unnaturally black, looking almost oily.
"Go away," he told it, irritated that he had allowed himself to be frightened by a bird. The crow, however, simply leaned closer to him and tilted its head the other way. He could've sworn that he saw a spark of recognition in its eyes before the bird spread its wings and flew into the canopy of leaves above him. Once the bird departed, the forest quieted again.
Abandoning the way he'd come, Castiel decided to venture deeper into the forest instead. As he did, he used his sword to mark his progress, carefully carving two parallel slashes into each trunk. Unlike his footprints, the slashes stayed in place, and when he looked behind him he could still see them on the trees before the path was swallowed up.
He walked for what felt like hours until he reached a fork in the path. He could not see what lay at the end of them, if there were other paths branching off or only more trees. Standing between them, he glanced back and forth, trying to decide, when the crow appeared again. Swooping down by his feet, it walked awkwardly toward the right fork, pecked the ground twice, and then hopped down the path. When he didn't follow, the crow repeated the process, this time cawing loudly at him.
"Right it is then," he muttered, marking the way with his sword. The crow hopped twice, and then took to the air, settling in the branches above him.
The path seemed to stretch on forever. Still, Castiel walked, looking for any sign of Meg. Even this deep in the forest, there were no signs of her. But the forest could've easily swallowed any signs like it swallowed her footprints. The longer he walked, the longer the shadows on the ground stretched, until he had to squint to see in the faint sunlight. Unwilling to stop for the night, he pressed onward. The sound of rustling branches accompanied him, signaling that the crow was near, and following his journey. Strangely comforted, he whistled to it once, to see if it would respond. It did not.
The sun set, plunging the forest around him into darkness, but his sword seemed to have its own internal glow. The dark metal gave off a strange, shining light that stretched about two feet in front of him. After a few moments, he noticed a strange green light coming from above him and cautiously sheathed his sword to stare at the canopy above him.
All of the leaves were glowing.
Turning in place, Castiel gazed up at the trees, mouth agape. Every single leaf was alight, giving off the illusion that the branches were covered in green fire. It gave light to the whole path, showing him every rock and dip beneath his feet. Had he been in any other place, he would have called it beautiful, but instead the light around him made him feel uneasy. During the day, the trees had simply looked like ordinary trees, brow and scarred from years of snows and rains and storms, from animals that pecked at the bark or sharpened their claws on the trunks. In the flowing green light the trees looked almost sinister. A group of interlocking branches formed the shape of a skull instead of a group of sticks. A malformed trunk looked almost like a woman screaming instead of a lumpy, ugly plant. The rocks under his feet, once so ordinary, look the shape of grinning heads.
Even the air changed. It had been wet and heavy ever since he had first set foot in the forest. It felt heavier now, and made him feel strangely sleepy and his limbs feel heavy, as though he had been drinking his brother's finest wine. It had smelt like a normal forest at first, but now the sickly-sweet smell of rotting meat invaded his nostrils and wrapped itself around him.
The crow flew down in front of him again and landed on the path. It fluttered its wings twice and opened its beak wide, but stayed silent. When it tilted its head, he imitated it.
"Are you an evil spirit leading me into a trap, or something trying to help me?" he asked it. The crow tilted its head the other way and closed its beak. "I guess the only way to find out is to keep going."
The crow cawed at him and flew upward. Castiel figured it was agreeing with him and pressed onward, absently reaching back for his skin of water. The liquid was fresh and clear, and while it was warm, it still chased away the taste of rot from his mouth. Moving carefully, he took another sip, and felt strength flow into his limbs. The protection amulet resting over his heart warmed his chest pleasantly, and he wondered if it was the magic working inside of it that gave off the heat.
Eventually, the path opened up into a large, unnatural looking clearing. The grass glowed just like the trees around him, but the moon shining down bleached it an eerie silver color. The clearing was perfectly round and there were at least six yards between him and the center, where a large, bare tree surrounded by white rocks stretched toward the dark sky.
He looked up and noticed that there were no stars, just the large, swollen moon hanging in the sky. Frowning, Castiel took a step back. The moon had been nothing but a sliver in the sky when he had entered the forest, nowhere near full. But here it was perfectly round. He turned to walk back down the path when the crow swooped down and flew around his head, forcing him to turn back toward the clearing. The bird landed, pecked the ground twice, and flew toward the dead tree. It landed again a few feet from the trunk.
"The tree's important?" Castiel guessed. The bird cawed at him in response and began hopping up and down, wings ruffled. Feeling foolish, he obeyed the bird and walked into the clearing, freezing in place when he neared the tree.
There were no rocks around the tree. Instead there was a ring of human skulls in a perfect circle two feet away from the trunk. Swallowing hard, he looked up at the long, bare branches and felt his heart drop when he caught sight of a delicate silver chain glinting in the moonlight.
Hanging from a branch was another protection amulet.
The one around his neck grew warmer in response, and he could hear his sword humming louder. A breeze came through the clearing, sending the amulet twirling in the night. His mouth went dry when he saw the large, elaborate M carved into the back of the pendant.
Meg's protection amulet.
She'd been there, then, and she had lost her only protection against the evil forces in the forest.
The smell of rot returned, and he could not tell if it was coming from the tree or from the skulls. He reached up with trembling hands, intending to snatch the amulet from the branch it was hanging on, when a burning feeling shot through his flesh. Yelping, he recoiled and jumped backward. The air in front of the tree shimmered, glowing green just inside of the ring of skulls.
The crow hopped forward and pecked the ground in front of the skulls. When he did not move again, it leaped forward and landed on his sword. Cawing, it danced along the blade and pointed its beak toward the nearest skull on the ground. The bleached white bones shone in the moonlight, revealing cracked teeth.
Castiel looked between the crow and the skulls and frowned.
"Magic," he guessed. The crow screamed in response and swooped back down to peck the skull. Recalling Azazel's words about the sword being able to cut through anything, he gripped it with both hands and raised the blade high above his head. The crow danced away as he brought the blade down on the skull, shattering the circle. The air shimmered once, then stilled.
Kicking the broken remains of the skull aside, Castiel carefully reached up again, letting out a sigh of relief when no harm came to his flesh. He wrapped his fingers around the protection amulet and gently plucked it from the branch. The wood was warm.
He turned to face the crow. "Thank you."
The bird only titled its head again and watched him. Turning away from it, Castiel traced his fingers over the curly letter. The amulet was proof that Meg was here in the forest, and that she had passed this way. He didn't know why should would have taken it off, however. Ruby had been secretive about her practice for the entire time he'd known her, but she'd informed him of the amulet's protective properties when she'd given it to him. Benny seemed to know that she was a witch, too. Ruby had even told him that she'd taught Meg a few tricks, so clearly she knew more about magic than she had ever told him.
But if that was true, why would Meg abandon her amulet? If she'd wanted to leave a trail, she could've easily carved a symbol into the trees, or tied scraps of fabric around branches. The only explanation was that something or someone had removed the amulet by force and hung it there.
Castiel shivered at the thought and opened his palm to look down at the star and flames, and wished that he knew some sort of magic. The object belonged to Meg, and surely Ruby or some other witch would be able to track her with it. But he could only stare at it and pray that she was still alive.
"Which way?" he asked the crow. "Shall I go back and try the other fork, or keep going forward? What do you think?"
The crow tilted its head, spread its wings, and flew for his face.
Momentarily forgetting his sword, Castiel threw his hand up to protect his eyes and screamed in pain when the crow pecked at the fist clutching Meg's amulet. His fingers opened involuntarily. He felt the chain slipping through his fingers, tried to grasp it again, and cursed when his hand closed around empty air. But the crow stopped its assault. He opened his eyes and lowered his hand just in time to see it pluck the necklace from the ground and swoop to the other side of the clearing.
"Hey! Give that back!" he yelled. Disregarding the wounds on his hand and the blood pouring from them, he sprinted across the clearing. But the bird ignored him. Instead, it picked the chain of the necklace up in its beak, tossed it in the air, and stuck its head under it so the silver landed across its back.
He stopped halfway to the crow and watched as it stiffened. Its wings opened halfway, its beak stretched wide, and its dark eyes bugged in its head, as if they were trying to pop out of its skull. The bird's dark feathers, turned dusty by the moonlight, began to grow longer as the air around it began to waver. The dirt under it shifted, as if a strong wind was blowing through the clearing, and it rose up and covered the bird completely. A strange smell came to his nose, damp like rain and sharp like evergreen.
Magic.
Fascinated, he lowered his sword so the point rested in the dirt. The dome of dust grew larger and larger, stretching to the length of a human, and a long, pained scream tore through the air.
A moment later, the dust settled, and the crow was gone. In its place was a human woman crouching in the dirt, dressed in a long, black gown made of feathers. Her hair, almost as dark as the dress, fell forward over her face and into the dirt. The gown was sleeveless, exposing her pale arms, and Castiel could see that she was trembling.
He swallowed hard and took a cautious step toward her. "Miss?"
The woman ignored him and rolled onto her back. He watched as she raised her hands in front of her face and flexed her fingers and rolled her wrists. Next, she sat up and ran her fingers down her body, passing them over her breasts and stomach and down to feel the shape of each leg under the feathered skirt of the gown. Her toes poked out from the hem, and she wiggled them before touching the tip of a finger to each one, as if counting to make sure they were all there. Still, her face stayed hidden by her curtain of dark, messy hair.
He took another step forward. "Miss?"
Finally, the woman turned to look at him. There were large, dark circles under her eyes, but they shone with happiness when they saw him. "Cas."
His heart dropped into his stomach. His fingers opened, sending the sword down into the dirt. He forgot about the circumstances, forgot about the dangerous forest and the tree ringed by humans skulls, forgot about everything else but the woman sitting on the other side of the clearing.
He ran toward Meg and fell onto his knees so he could take her in his arms. She clung to him, wrapping her arms around his back and holding him tightly against her. He buried his face in her neck and stroked her long, dark hair, dislodging the twigs and leaves that were caught in the tresses.
Meg held him a moment longer and pulled away. Before she could say anything, he covered her lips with his in a rough kiss. She raised her hands and fanned her fingers across his cheeks, keeping him pressed against her as she moved her lips against his.
When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against hers, eyes closed. "I knew you were alive."
He heard Meg swallow hard. "Am I the only one?"
He didn't want to open his eyes. It would be easier to tell her the news if he couldn't see the pain on her face when she found out that so many were dead. But he opened his eyes and pulled away from her, anyway, taking her hands in his. "Out of those who were on the road."
She swallowed again. "You're sure?"
He nodded. Part of him wanted to spare her the details, but he'd known Meg all his life, and knew that she was no stranger to blood and gruesome deaths. She was one of her father's top 'interrogators' after all, and had apprenticed in the dungeons under her uncle, Alistair. "They found the heads for the first group, the ones who were with you for your bridal hunt. They didn't find anything else. Then your father sent another party after them, and none of them came back. Just their horses and an arm."
"Ruby?" she asked in a small voice. "The baby?"
"She's fine. I saw her at the castle."
This time, Meg's eyes were the ones who squeezed shut. Her voice trembled. "Benny?"
"He's alive," Castiel told her, trying to ignore the twinge of jealousy in his stomach when Meg smiled and sagged with relief. She opened her eyes again and pulled away from him to stand.
"You shouldn't be here," she told him. "You really shouldn't."
"I came here to find you!"
She shook her head. "I know. But this place…you shouldn't be here. No human should be here."
"Well, now we'll leave. I marked the path back."
She rolled her eyes at him. "That won't help. I've been here for ages, trying to find a way out. Every time I flew near to where I thought the entrance to the woods was, the path would change, or the trees would be too thick to get through. I couldn't even fly upward. If I tried, even in clearings like this, I couldn't make it. The sky looks pretty close, but no matter how high up I went, the branches followed. I couldn't get out."
"Why were you a crow?" he asked.
Meg froze, eyes darting around the clearing, and reached down to grab his hand. "We can't stay here. Get your sword and I'll tell you on the way. Do you have food?"
Stunned, he blinked at her. "Yes, I have food. But what are you talking about? I don't see anything wrong."
"You haven't been here as long as I have," she snapped. Dropping his hand, she raced to where his sword was, scooped it up, and darted around to the other side of the clearing. Seeing no choice but to follow, Castiel raced after her, taking Meg's hand when she offered it.
"We should go the other way," he protested. "Meg, we have to stop to mark the path, or we'll get lost. Meg!"
She tugged him forward, insistent. "Can't. The way's gone now."
"It's not gone! How can it be gone?"
"It just is. Besides, it isn't safe. Didn't you hear them?"
"Hear what?" he asked as a long, terrified scream tore through the night. He jerked to a halt, forcing Meg to stop with him. She growled and tugged at his hand, trying to pull him down the path.
"We have to go!" she insisted. "I know a safe place."
Another scream tore through the air, followed by the sound of children giggling. "What is that?"
Meg tugged at his hand. "Later. We have to go. I know a place."
This time, he followed her, ignoring the other screams that lit the air. He tried to memorize the path, but Meg moved too fast for him to find any landmarks. She tugged him left, shooting them down a path so narrow that it was impossible for them to walk side by side. The trees grazed his sides, leaving a sticky, oily residue on his clothing. The smell of rot increased. She took another left, and then another, before she stopped in front of a tangle of brambles.
"Do you have a knife?" she asked him.
"The sword is magic. I can cut through spells."
"I saw that at the Skulltree," she said tartly. "But we need these spells to stay where they are. Do you have a knife?"
He reached into his boot sheath and handed her his small knife. Meg handed him back his sword and probed the wall of brambles for a moment, stopping when her palm hit something only she could see. He watched as she pricked her finger with the knife, winced, and squeezed it so the blood would flow better.
"What?"
She shushed him and pressed her finger to the spot before using her blood to draw a circle. Once it was complete, she pricked her finger again and drew a star inside of it. Castiel tried to move forward, but Meg pushed him back and slammed her palm down on the mark.
The brambles shook, and then vanished, revealing a small clearing. Meg ignored his stunned look and dragged him inside. Once they were safely through, she repeated the process on the inside and the wall appeared again, sealing them in.
It was pitch dark, and quiet, the screams from outside unable to penetrate their hideaway. He groped in the dark for a moment and pulled out his sword to light the space. "Where are we?"
"Somewhere safe," Meg answered. She moved to the left, away from the light the sword gave off. He heard her whisper something, and saw a small tongue of fire appear. In another moment there were torches lit along the walls of the structure, bright enough so he could see the whole thing.
She'd taken them to what looked like a small, round hut with a low ceiling. The walls were made of dead branches, packed so tightly that no light could filter through. It was small, maybe nine feet across, and perfectly round. The ceiling looked as though it was made up of layers and layers of dead leaves packed together to create a solid, comforting blanket over their heads.
"It moves, so you never know where you're going to find it," Meg explained, sitting at a small, round table in the center of the room. There were logs for chairs, and Castiel perched himself on the one opposite her. "Oh, it feels good to have hands again."
"Tell me what's going on. What's with the screaming in the woods? Benny and I heard it yesterday when we were camping at the village."
Her eyes widened. "Benny's here?"
He shook his head. "I came alone. He's waiting for us, back at the village. He said he'd give us a week."
"He should be home with his kid."
"Ruby's not due for a long while yet."
Meg stared at him. "What are you talking about? I've been here for months."
"You've only been gone a few weeks," he told her. "Did you really think it would take me months to come looking for you?"
Meg swallowed hard. "I don't know. Maybe time passes differently in here. It felt like months." She looked at him. "You probably came alone and left everyone else in your family. Figuring in shorter travel time, but then the time to get here and find me…"
"Our wedding would have been tomorrow," he said gently. "When the sun comes up."
"It doesn't always," she said absently. "Sometimes the sun will shine for days, and sometimes it won't. We only had the moon for a month, once. Or what felt like a month. But the trees glow, so there's light."
"I did notice that." Growing serious, he reached out and took her hand again. "Tell me what happened."
"We were riding home. The hunt had run late, but we'd caught this beautiful stag. The meat was going to be used in our wedding feast, you know. We would eat the heart together. It symbolizes love." Meg rolled her eyes. "Father is a bit of a romantic. Because he did that with my mother, he wanted it for us. We decided to take a shortcut home, so the meat would not spoil beyond saving, and so my father wouldn't worry. We'd all heard the stories about the woods growing up, of course, and I'd seen Lilith's picture in the attic. But we weren't afraid. They were just stories to us, a way to explain why the royal daughter went missing, and why it's unacceptable for members of the royal family to practice witchcraft."
"What you did outside looked like witchcraft," he commented.
"It wasn't put there by me. I just know how to key it. Anyway, we were riding, and I noticed that Ruby was looking more exhausted than any of us, so I told her and Benny to go ahead and set up camp at the village. I watched them go, and then this…shadow came out of the woods. It was shaped like a dog, but my arrow passed right through it when I tried to shoot it. Its eyes glowed red, and then more of them came out of the woods. It spooked the horses, and we tried to run, but there were too many of them. The horses were screaming, and the dogs, or shadows, or whatever they were attacked them," Meg explained. "Ivan was thrown from his horse, and two of the beasts leapt at him and dragged him into the woods. Tammy was next. She fell and they tore at her throat. We couldn't touch them, but they could clearly touch us. She died screaming as they ate her. Her leg came right off, like they were tearing apart a chicken.
"Samhain tried to save me. He leapt off his horse when the creatures attacked and told me to run. He kept trying to hack at them, and his sword actually went through them. But he was a witch, and I'm sure his blade was enchanted. It didn't matter in the end, anyway. When I tried to run, more of them darted out of the trees and went for my horse. It went down under me. When I landed, I saw the creatures kill Samhain. One had him by the back of his neck. Before I could get up one of them had its teeth in my trouser leg. Another one grabbed the back of my shirt and dragged me into the trees."
"What happened then?" Castiel pressed.
Meg shrugged. "My head hit a rock and I passed out. When I woke up, I was lying on a cold, stone floor. My clothes were torn and filthy, covered in blood and dirt and forest debris. My weapons were gone. My knives, my arrows, the bow that my father gave me for my birthday…all gone. There were bars on the small windows, and nothing in the room but a pallet of straw in the corner. There was one door that led out of the room, but I could not budge it, no matter how hard I tried."
"Someone did take you prisoner."
"No. It wasn't a person." Meg looked down at their joined hands. "You've heard of Fergus Crowley?"
"Benny told me, yes."
"He lives," Meg said. "He lives, and he is here, and he will find us and kill us."
"He died hundreds of years ago, Meg. There's no way he's still alive," Castiel argued.
Meg huffed. "I know what I saw. He's still alive, Cas. He's been living here for all those years, preying on people travelling. Keeping them hostage in his castle and bathing in their blood to stay healed."
"You actually saw him?"
Meg nodded. "I don't know how long I was in that room. He came into my cell and had these two things drag me out. They were hanged men, I think, and dead a long time. They smelled like it, and their necks were broken, but they were really strong. They dragged me into this huge room and chained me to this metal thing shaped like a circle. They had chains for my wrists and ankles, and one that went around my middle, and another for my throat so I could barely breathe, and so I could not move my head. I thought I was going to die. Crowley laughed at me, and grabbed my face, and I really saw him. He was rotted. I could see bones coming through his face, and his flesh flaked off when he moved. It was all burned and blistered, most of it was black, but some of him was still oozing pus. Some of him smelt like he was still cooking.
"His tongue was mostly gone, and blackened, but there was one pink patch. He stuck it out and wiggled it at me, and then he winked. He only had one eye left, the other one was just a blackened hole, but he still winked. Then he leaned forward and licked the blood from this cut on my cheek. I struggled, but the chains were too tight. Whatever he found, he didn't like, so he lowered his head and licked my blood from a cut on my arm instead. He stood there for a minute while I cursed at him and tried to get free, and then told the men that my blood wouldn't work.
"Then he looked at me, and he smiled and told me that he knew what I was. He said that someone would come from me, and their blood would work, so he would keep me there. Then he told the men to take me down and put me back in my cage. So I stayed there for what felt like months. I slept a lot. The sun would shine for several days, and then the moon would come out, and then it would be daytime again for a week. I think. It's impossible to chart time in here. I searched every inch of that little room for a way out. I wrecked my fingernails trying to find lose stones, I threw myself at the door every time those things came to shove a tray of food into the room, and I tried to get through that damn window. There was nothing I could do. Every few nights, the men would drag me back to that room and Crowley would cut me with a knife and massage my blood into his skin. Over time, I noticed that it looked more human, like it was healing him. He must've had other people captive in there, too, because the last time he dragged me out, he was almost healed. At least for a while."
"How did you get out?" Castiel asked.
Meg smiled slightly. "He did have other people captive in there. There was this girl named Jo. She was stuck there, same as I was. I was so out of it when I saw her that I thought she was an angel and I was dying. The sun was out, like it always was, and her hair was the same color. I hadn't been fed for several days, and I was weak from losing so much blood, and when I saw her, she blended in with the light around me. She was so pale, too, that I knew she'd been locked up in a windowless cell. She had keys that she'd gotten from somewhere. Later, she told me that they thought she was dying, so they'd just left her on the floor to die. But she got herself up, found the keys, and she'd seen me when she was running. She said that she couldn't just leave me there. She got me up, she made me walk out of there. But Crowley saw us. Since he was healed, he came after us. We tried to run, but we were both clumsy, both slow and weak. She'd seen the corpse chute, where Crowley and his minions threw out the dead he'd drained, so she'd thought we could escape through there. There wasn't enough time to reach it. So we did something else. Do you remember that summer when Tom and I were thirteen and you stayed with us?"
Castiel laughed. "You tortured me relentlessly."
Meg's mouth twitched. "Only for a little while."
"You two hung me upside down from a tree and pelted me with tomatoes. I don't see how it's relevant."
"Yeah, but do you remember some of the other things we did? Especially the one involving the barn?"
Yes, Castiel remembered the time with the barn. Tom and Meg had spent hours trying to convince him that sneaking up onto the roof and jumping off it into the large pile of hay at the side of the building was a good idea. Eventually, they'd done it, and the three of them had spent the afternoon scattering the hay that the stablehands had carefully gathered. Azazel had been livid, and angrier than Castiel had ever seen him.
Up until that point, at least. In the following years, Castiel had learned that Azazel's harsh words and anger had never dampened his offspring's desire for trouble.
"You jumped out a window?" Castiel guessed. Meg nodded.
"Tried to, anyway. I saw the hay, and I knew. I made Jo jump first, just in case, and then I followed her. But Crowley sent some sort of blast of magic at me, and it hit me. I went from falling out a window to flying away from it. My protection amulet that Ruby had given me fell off and landed on Jo's head. She thought to grab it when she sprinted for the woods. I followed her. There wasn't any time to think about what form I was in, or what happened. Jo explained it to me later. Crowley tried to kill me, but the protection amulet turned it into something else. When I found her in the woods, she put it over my head, and I transformed back. And I was wearing this." Meg freed one of her hands and spread the feathered skirt of her gown. "I can't get it off. When I take off the amulet, I change back."
"What happened to this Jo?" Castiel asked.
"We found places like this, places that were safe. You can't hear any screams here, and none of those shadow things can get in. They're all over the forest; searching for people who're lost so they can drag them back to Crowley," she told him. "Jo and I would venture out for food, or for water, or to look for a way out. These places, the paths, everything in the forest moves. Even Crowley's castle. So we'd go out together, to protect each other. We went out one day, and the shadow dogs got Jo. Crowley was with them, and he'd started to rot again, since his last two victims were gone. The dogs almost had me, and I couldn't save her. Crowley reached out and got his hand around my amulet, and wrenched it off me before the dogs got near. I changed, and I fled. I heard Jo's death scream from the trees. I've been flying around as a crow ever since, still trying to find the way out. If I'd gotten home, Ruby could've changed me back permanently."
"We kissed," Castiel pointed out. "Isn't true love's kiss supposed to break a spell?"
Meg scoffed. "This isn't a fairytale. This is real life. In real life, only another witch can break a spell."
"Did you ever find out what kind of blood Crowley needed?"
Meg nodded. "Jo did. She'd been scurrying around the castle for days, trying to find a window or the corpse hole. Crowley had her in a basement. She found his workroom, and his notes. He's trapped here, by whatever spell those ancient witches cast. The book said he needed pure blood in order to walk free again, pure blood of noble birth. Apparently, the ancient witches thought that peasants were too dirty on principle. Any other blood can heal him, for a time. I guess he figured that more nobles would join the search for me, and one of them would fit his criteria."
"Pure blood? What's it mean by pure blood?" Castiel asked, confused.
"Innocence," Meg answered. "Purity."
"I still don't understand."
"Virgin blood," Meg clarified. "He needed the blood of a virgin of noble birth."
"Then why wouldn't your blood work? You aren't married."
"Castiel, I'm not a virgin," Meg said gently. "I haven't been for two years now."
He drew away. "I knew it. There was something between you and Benny."
Meg nodded. "Yes. Ruby and I shared him. We did everything together from girlhood. Why would that be any different? He's a good friend, and a good man, and we knew that it could not happen with you. Besides, I agreed to marry you, didn't I?"
"For political reasons."
"No. Because I wanted you," Meg said firmly. "If I didn't want to marry you, I would've told my father no. I had that sword made for you. We were going to eat a stag's heart at our wedding feast to symbolize our everlasting love. I asked my father to include a blood vow in the ceremony."
Stunned, Castiel blinked rapidly. Blood vows were an old tradition, and increasingly rare in Meg's country. "You did?"
"Yeah, Clarence, I did."
Meg's use of her childhood nickname for her, which had been invented because she'd had trouble pronouncing his real name, warmed his heart. He took her hands again and smiled. "Then we get out of here."
"I don't know if we can. This place is like a maze, Castiel, and time works so differently here. The night isn't safe, and neither are the shadows, or the food."
"The food?"
Meg nodded. "That's why I wanted to be sure you brought some with you. The food here causes horrible hallucinations. Except for the bugs. That was the one thing I liked about being a crow. I could eat without hallucinations. Every time Jo and I managed to find food, we'd have to lock ourselves in one of these places for the night, because the thing's we'd see."
"Wait, you ate bugs?" Castiel interrupted. Meg glared at him.
"Yes, I ate bugs. But if you have something else in that bag, I'd really like to eat it. I'm sick of having worms for dinner."
"It just so happens that I have some jerky and some apples," he told her. Reaching into his pack, he pulled out an apple and polished it on his shirt before handing it to her. Meg gripped the fruit gently, lovingly stroking the red skin with her fingers before she sank her teeth into it with a loud moan. He looked away as the juice ran down her chin and she closed her eyes in bliss.
"This is the best thing I have ever eaten my life," she breathed as she took another bite. "If we get home, I'll never complain about food again."
"I guess we're even now."
"For what?"
"For that time you made me eat bugs when they told us that we were engaged."
Meg laughed. "I was ten years old. Besides, it was funny."
"You and your brother and sister held me down and made me eat several pillbugs. It was not funny at the time."
"It was to me. Bugs are actually and excellent source of protein, you know. We were doing you a favor. You were such a skinny thing, then. You got overpowered by two ten year old kids and their nine year old sister."
"There were more of you than there were of me. Besides, I wasn't expecting you to punch me in the face and make me eat bugs when our fathers told us that they expected us to marry."
Meg took another bite of the apple. "Yeah, it's a wonder they kept the contract after that. Do you remember that one year where I visited you and your older brother caught us kissing in the orchard?"
"Of course I do," Castiel said softly. When he had turned eighteen and was considered a man grown on his own merits, he'd spent hours alone in the orchard, practicing the speech he'd wanted to make to Azazel, intending on asking the man to let he and Meg marry before she turned eighteen. It was done all the time in his kingdom. After a few hours, Meg had found him in the middle of his speech.
She'd given him his first kiss that night, arms wrapped around his neck in a stranglehold. He'd immediately pushed her against a tree and kissed her back. He still remembered the sound that the apples made when they hit the ground, the force of Meg's back hitting the tree being enough to dislodge them.
Gabriel had found them after a few minutes, forcibly pried them apart, and sent Meg up to the castle while he gave Castiel a talking to.
Meg smiled and held the apple out to him. She'd eaten half of it, leaving the other half for him. "Eat."
He pushed it back toward her. "I have more."
"We have to ration. You don't want to wind up eating the food here." She pushed it back toward him. "Eat. Then we'll get some sleep. You won't hear anything screaming in here tonight."
Castiel finished his half of the apple and washed it down with a swig from his water skin. While he did that, he noticed Meg rooting through a tiny cupboard just beyond the flames. When she returned, she had two bedrolls bundled under her arms.
"Did Jo build this place?" he asked her.
Meg shook her head. "She'd had some training from the witches in her village, and she could recognize when something was spelled or hidden. Someone else built this place, and by the looks of it, it was someone with big magic."
"Who do you think it was?"
"I think maybe my dear great auntie realized that she'd gotten in over her head and tried to flee," Meg guessed. "If Crowley could live all these years, why not Lilith? But I never saw her in the castle, and I never saw any trace of any women aside from Jo and I. But we'll never really know. Best not to think about it."
Castiel nodded in agreement and took one of the bedrolls from Meg. "Should one of us keep watch?"
Meg shook her head. "I told you, nothing can get in here. We should both try to get some sleep."
He laid out his bedroll and offered Meg his cloak. "Here. You'll need it."
Meg only glared at him before she set up her bedroll next to his and stretched out. "It'll cover both of us."
"Meg, that's improper."
"We're in the middle of the woods, Castiel. No one will ever know."
"It still isn't right! We shouldn't be sleeping so close together until we're married!"
Meg raised an eyebrow at him. "If it makes you feel better, you can put your sword between us like the knights used to do in the fairytales our minder read us when we were kids. That way you can make sure that your big, scary fiancée, doesn't get handsy."
He felt his face burn with embarrassment. "Meg, it isn't funny."
"It really is. We're engaged, Clarence. As in, we were supposed to be getting married tomorrow evening. Father had it all planned out." Her voice changed to a high-pitched, breathy tone. "A long, red carpet across the gardens for me to walk down, the big pretty dress, timing it just so the sun would be setting behind us when we kiss to seal the marriage, with the autumn leaves swirling down around us in blazes of color."
"Are you mocking our wedding?"
"I'm mocking how weirdly romantic my father is. There's a difference. Now, come on, I'm tired. The transformation always takes it out of me."
He slid onto the bedroll cautiously, but didn't place the sword between them like she'd half-jokingly suggested. He trusted Meg, and besides, he wasn't planning on doing anything untoward. He covered them both with the cloak, making sure to give Meg more of it since she was dressed lighter than he was, and tried to sleep.