Chapter One

Road to Ruin

Rosemary

 

 

 

 

 

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Someone was watching me.

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I could feel it, a heavy weight between my shoulder blades. The fine hairs at the

nape of my neck stood alert beneath the loose waves of my strawberry-gold hair.

Yet when I glanced over my shoulder, I found nothing but quiet, dew-drenched

earth and the distant flutter of birds.

​

My cart creaked over uneven cobblestones as I entered the waking village. The sun, still low and pale, touched wildflowers along the path, casting golden light across empty streets. Only a few early risers tended gardens or swept their doorsteps. My gaze admired the fluttering wings of a butterfly as it drifted past in the gentle breeze, my mind wandering even as a smile tugged at the corners of my lips.

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My magic had always been different from other seelie fae. While most commanded grand displays of elemental force, mine was subtle, internal. And frustratingly unpredictable. Some days it flowed like a gentle stream, and other days it flickered like a candle in a harsh wind, leaving me to rely more on herbal knowledge than magical ability. I could sense the life force in plants, coax healing properties from seemingly mundane herbs, and occasionally, when emotion ran high, tap into something deeper, but it exhausted me quickly.

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It was a week before the final full moon of the year, and I couldn’t help but feel like Briar’s time was limited. This morning, for the first time in decades, my sister had felt different. Her skin paler, colder. Everything pointed to the curse reaching a tragic end.

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I quickened my pace toward the town square, eager to claim my usual spot among the vendors, but my thoughts drifted to the rare book I'd commissioned, a tome filled with secrets about herbs and plants from the edges of the earth. Perhaps Kasto Nahas, the vendor who’d gained most of my coin over the years, would arrive early today.

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The town square came into view bordered by tidy stalls draped in ivy. A few vendors had already arrived with their wares. They glanced my way with that familiar look of quiet disdain as if my presence disrupted their peaceful morning rituals.

I'd grown used to it. To them, I was a necessary evil. They grudgingly tolerated my expertise but never truly welcomed me. So I ignored their quiet scorn and focused on what mattered: the remedies I crafted and the knowledge I chased.

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My cart creaked to a stop in the same spot I claimed every market day. Kasto stood nearby, hunched beneath the weight of books and scrolls. His volumes looked out of place next to the vegetables and homespun goods, but knowledge was the only currency that mattered to him. I crossed the square without a second thought.

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"Did you bring it?" I asked, my voice carrying the calmness of one who had learned to wait in quiet patience.

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Kasto turned slowly, his dark eyes flickering as he dropped another scroll into a wooden bucket. His smile held only greed. "I did," he said, his voice soft like rustling dry leaves. "Though I must admit, it wasn't the easiest thing to procure."

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I fought the urge to roll my eyes at his performance. What mattered was the information in that book. It was my last hope.

"I'm sorry to hear the journey was difficult," I offered. "Of course, I'll pay for your troubles."

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When he finally pulled out the tome wrapped in indigo silk, my breath caught. The wind tugged at my hair as I reached out, but his fingers tightened their grip.

 

"Three gold pieces should suffice."

 

My breath stilled. Three gold pieces would leave me scrimping for weeks, but the book was worth it. I withdrew the coins from beneath my woolen tunic, their weight familiar against my skin.

 

"I'd like to see the cover before I provide payment," I said, my voice steady but firm.

 

He methodically unwrapped it, revealing weathered tan leather with faded golden lettering: "Forgotten Plants & Uses Plenty: A Compendium." The book seemed to call to me.

 

"I'll take the protective cloth as well," I said.

 

He wrapped the book once more and passed it to me. "Now, if you don't mind, I still have a stall to set up. You're not exactly great for my business."

 

I nodded, cradling the tome close. It felt like warmth, like hope, like new beginnings. I hurried back to my cart, arms folded across my chest with my latest purchase snuggled close.

 

Years of practice made setting up second nature. My cart held four wooden shelves that folded out for display. Extra tonics and tinctures stayed tucked safely in the base, and a folding chair waited beside the cart for the long day ahead.

 

By midday, my coin purse felt a bit heavier and, twice, under the cover of a thick brown blanket, I reached for elixirs forbidden by the church but craved by women whose needs surpassed any law. I always handed them what they needed, charging only enough to cover my costs.

 

As the market swirled around me, my mind wandered to my latest acquisition, and I couldn’t resist its call. Each turn of the page gradually dampened the hope that had bloomed within me until something caught my eye. A single phrase nestled between faded lines:

 

Daemonacus Flower, Cursed Bloom of the Everland

The Daemonacus Flower is a perilous bloom wrapped in mystery and danger. Known for its rare power to heal magical wounds and break curses, its beauty masks a deadly nature. It blooms only once every decade in the year of the Everfox.

This flower can only be harvested beneath the full moon during the sacred Everfox year. Found deep in the heart of Everland Forest, the journey tests the courage of even the bravest. Only those with unwavering hearts will earn its gift.

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It was as though Fate herself had whispered through these pages. The year of the Everfox was upon us, and only a single full moon remained. Still, warmth settled in my chest; I had found something long sought, the last thread needed to unravel the curse's hold on my sister.

 

Information on the Daemonacus flower filled three devoted pages with elegant script. Its petals, dark as the midnight sky, glowed faintly deep purple. But there was a catch, it bloomed only in the heart of Everland Forest, where tangled vines and moss-covered trees whispered of secrets long buried. Only the unseelie seemed to wander there without fear.

 

My heart quickened. This flower was my last hope.

 

"Excuse me," a quiet voice spoke, jarring me from deep concentration. "A friend told me that you would have what I need."

 

A fist closed around my heart at her timidness. I'd grown used to the fear mortals held for me, but it affected me all the same. I closed the book, tucking the silken cloth around it.

 

"What is it that you require?" I asked, keeping my voice soft.

 

Her delicate fingers curled around her pale-yellow dress as she blinked through thick lashes. Her mint-green eyes darted nervously across the market, though something deeper outweighed the fear in her gaze.

 

"My son. He took a tumble three days ago and hasn't opened his eyes since. The town's doctor has seen to his injuries, but I was hoping you would have something that could pull him from his slumber."

 

My breath caught at her plight, so close to my own. I moved toward my cart, fingers grazing the jars of tinctures until I found what I needed: a small, round glass jar with warm orange liquid that flickered like a trapped firefly.

 

"This should help," I said, holding it out. "Mix half into heated water, let it cool, then give it to him slowly. He'll wake within the hour, but if he doesn't, come find me in the woods."

 

Her long fingers wrapped around the bottle, knuckles pale with effort. A single tear slid down her cheek. "How much?"

 

The weight of my sister's slumber pressed down on me. Briar, trapped in endless sleep. I'd tried this potion on her too, but it hadn't been enough. Nothing ever was.

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"Take it," I said, voice sharper than intended. "No fee."

 

Her fingers wrapped around my wrist with featherlight care, trembling like autumn's first leaf. "Thank you," she whispered, then disappeared into the market's bustle.

 

With an hour left before market's end, I gathered my wares. Half remained unsold, but my coin purse felt heavier, though not yet close to three golds heavier. I draped the thick brown blanket over my glass containers and folded my chair, securing everything for the journey home.

 

The unease lingered, that quiet weight between my shoulder blades, as though the forest itself watched me. I ran my fingers through my hair, the soft waves catching sunlight through the square's tall trees.

 

I made my way toward Floribunda's Apothecary at the village edge. The bell tinkled as I entered, and the scent of dried petals and ground herbs enveloped me.

 

"Good afternoon, Rosemary," greeted Madame Eliza, her silver hair pinned in a neat bun.

 

I returned her greeting and handed her my list of needed herbs. As she gathered items from the shelves, I asked, "Have you ever heard of the Daemonacus flower?"

 

"The Dae... The what, my dear?"

 

My breath fell in a heavy sigh. "It's a rare flower I just read about. It has unique healing capabilities."

 

She frowned. "I'm afraid I've never heard of such a flower. If you find it, I would love to see what you create with it."

 

After paying for my purchases, she placed a small bundle of fresh lavender in my hands. "For you, dear. A little something to bring you peace."

 

I smiled my thanks.

 

"Oh," she said suddenly, "before I forget. That traveling book vendor dropped something off for you." She placed a thick tome on the counter: The Histories of the Seelie and Unseelie Fae.

 

My fingertips traced the lettering, feeling some small connection to what I was.

 

"If you’re smart," Madame Eliza said, "you'll forget what you were and find a way to appear more mortal." Her emerald gaze studied my seelie ears. "I've heard the unseelie are searching out the last of the seelie. It's better if you hide those ears and be careful."

 

I nodded, swallowing sudden fear. After tucking the wrapped package and tome beneath my arm, I turned to leave.

 

"Be careful out there, dear. You're the only fae I'd miss in this world."

 

I pulled my cart through the village toward the forest path home. That feeling of being watched never dissipated. At the town square, a young woman I recognized stopped me.

 

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I've been told you can help me," she said in a rush.

 

"What can I help you with, Gwen?"

 

"I'm pregnant and terribly sick. I haven't been able to keep anything down."

 

I smiled, lifting my cart's shelf. "Let me congratulate you. A new baby is exciting news." I found the bottle she needed and gave her my price. "This should help. Three droplets in water before each meal."

 

Gwen took the bottle, pressing more coins than I’d asked for into my palm. "Thank you. These past weeks have been awful."

 

As she hurried away, a tall male across the square caught my eye. His silver gaze locked onto mine, stopping my breath short. An electric charge seemed to sizzle between us. His dark hair shimmered blue-black in the sunlight, falling around his temples. Sun-kissed skin highlighted sharp cheekbones, and his broad shoulders seemed impossibly wide. Runed tattoos traced his neck and up the right side of his face then disappeared under his tunic. Parts of that dark ink covered a thick, rigid scar left behind from what had to have been a gruesome wound. Its jagged edges lifted across his neck, disappearing around the left side of his neck. He was far too tall for any human.

 

He winked, and one thing became clear. My breath fell from me in a whoosh.

 

Unseelie.