AFTER ANOTHER SLEEPLESS night the last thing Rowan wanted to do was go on a long, cold ride. Still, she dragged herself out of the stronghold and found a spot where she could watch the stables until Taran emerged on his white stallion. She’d hoped he’d look as haggard as she felt, with big circles under his eyes and tangled hair and exhaustion dragging at his shoulders. Instead he appeared calm, perfectly groomed and well-rested.

It’s not even bothering him that I left. So much for him being obsessed with me.

She saw Taran glance toward her, and for an awful moment thought he’d spotted her. Then he touched his boot heels to Gael’s sides, and the stallion trotted off.

When he disappeared into the woods Rowan’s insides tightened so much she thought she might twist into a pretzel. Staying away from the horse master grew harder every day, but going back seemed equally impossible. He didn’t want her, and with the power he had over her she could never trust him again.

I can get over this guy, Rowan told herself as she slipped into the stables. I just have to stick it out until it doesn’t hurt anymore.

“Come on, Sulky.”

Ailpin’s gelding seemed especially determined to stay in his stall, and in the end, Rowan had to bribe him with a piece of her morning pear. By the time they were on their way she felt like she might keel over in the saddle and snooze all the way to the meeting spot.

Ceann’s mood improved, however, as they got through the patrols and approached the cave. His ears went up, and his pace quickened to a trot. Rowan gave him his head, too tired to do anything but go along for the ride.

Her addiction to Taran definitely hadn’t gotten better, judging by the weird pulling sensation she felt to turn around and head back to Dun Mor. The wordless need to be near him had been wearing her out as much as the ugly visions of Marion’s abuse and Perrin denying it had ever happened. No wonder she couldn’t sleep.

Rowan couldn’t feel bad about the thing with Taran. Maybe he hadn’t meant to, but he’d shown her that she could matter to someone. No, what she most regretted was wasting her life trying to protect her sister. Even if it hadn’t been her choice, she’d still lost too many years playing bodyguard. Being on the road and squandering her talent building stage props weren’t even the worst of it. The first time she needed Perrin to be there for her—the only time, in fact—her sister couldn’t be bothered.

As for the rest of them, Emeline had been nice, and Brennus more decent than she’d expected. Even Althea had tried to be friendly. But Rowan knew she didn’t genuinely matter to any of them. They’d never do for her what she now was doing for them.

“I’m the mortal no one wants around,” she told the gelding. “Only here because I’ve got the wood mojo. I’m the big reject. If you can’t beat it, you might as well embrace it, right?”

The horse swung his head around as if to look back at her, the sunlight gilding his long eyelashes.

“It’s okay, you can pity me,” she told Ceann as she reined him in and dismounted. “I wish we had your herd mentality. No matter what you guys always stick together.” She touched her forehead to the space between the gelding’s eyes. “Just don’t tell anyone that you’re the only real friend I’ve got left.” The gelding rubbed his black nose against the front of her jacket as if to comfort her. “Triple oats for you when we get back to the stables.”

This time she tethered him well away from the cave before she headed for it.

Ochd in his Taran body stepped out before she could enter. “Fair morning, my lady.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

He didn’t go down on one knee this time, but Rowan had already gotten tired of the way he’d been sucking up to her. He’d changed his hair and eye color to match Taran’s, which made her queasy, and shifted his face to make it less flat and more like he had bone structure. From a distance, he probably looked just like the horse master, which wasn’t great.

“What’s going on at Camp Crazy?”

“Hendry has nearly finished building the totem army,” Ochd said as he stared at her face, his mouth curving. “I counted two for every famhairean.”

That would mean Hendry had over a hundred huge wooden giants to deploy. The clan would never stand a chance against that many.

“How soon will he have them ready to fight?”

“Once they finish carving, he has but to cast the guardian spell,” the giant told her. “’Twill awaken them as defenders, to fight against any attack made.”

“Terrific.” Rowan knew as soon as she got back to the stronghold she’d have to tell Brennus everything, but at least this would be the last time she had to meet Ochd. “When is he planning to spring them on the Skaraven?”

The famhair moved his shoulders stiffly up and down. “Hendry doesnae speak of it to me or in my hearing. He watches me more closely.”

Not the news she’d wanted to hear. “You think he suspects what you’ve been doing?”

“I cannae tell you.” He reached out and took hold of her hand. “You’re so weary, my lady. Come away with me this day. I ken of so many places where we may safely dwell.”

“Hey, I’d love to,” Rowan lied through her teeth, “but I can’t just disappear without making the clan suspicious.”

“We could go together to your time, through one of the grove portals,” Ochd urged. “The Skaraven couldnae follow us, nor could the Wood Dream or my brothers. We may build a life there, Rowan. A family, with bairns and a home.”

He had it all worked out, she realized. Ochd was expecting a happily ever after ending, with her as his princess. Judging by the mention of kids, he seemed to have forgotten that they weren’t even the same species. But to reject him might ruin everything. She had to swallow her disgust and cater to his fantasy, just this one last time.

“We wouldn’t be any safer there than we are here.” She felt something strange inch like ice down her spine, and glanced over her shoulder to see a shadow moving through the trees. “Crap. I think my horse got loose.”

Ochd was looking the other way. “’Tis no’ a horse.”

The ground beneath her boots shook, and trees behind Ochd began uprooting and falling. Rowan saw the mounds of earth rising and shoved the famhair away from her.

“You led them to me?” she shouted, stunned and furious. “That’s your idea of loyalty?”

“I swear to you, I didnae. Say naught to them,” Ochd warned her, and then tried to grab her. “My lady, please.”

Rowan whirled to see Taran burst out of the brush on his stallion, one long arm outstretched to her. Shock made her stagger backward. He’d followed her here? Had he known all along?

“Run to me,” the horse master bellowed. “Rowan.”

Before she could sprint in his direction cold, hard hands seized her from behind, and dragged her back against a tall body in a thick wool druid’s robe.

“We meet again, Sister,” a cold voice hissed in her ear.

Rowan twisted around to see a much younger version of Hendry Greum, and tried to break his hold on her.

“Get off me.”

He grinned. “After I’ve sought you for so long? I think not.”

Dha shot up from the ground in front of her and snatched Taran from his mount. He clamped his heavy arms around the horse master, pinning him against him before he slammed his face into the back of Taran’s head.

Rowan’s vision blurred as she watched the horse master go limp in the famhair’s grip. She blinked back the tears and looked at Ochd, who stood between Aon and another giant.

All of her anguish came out in a single word. “Why?”

“We’ll protect you, my lady,” Ochd promised her before he turned to Hendry. “We should leave this place before his clan track him here.”

“Indeed,” the druid said, and handed Rowan off to Aon. “We’ve so much to do.” He nodded to the giant. “Go.”

Being dragged through the earth again made Rowan relive another nightmare: the first time she’d been grabbed by the famhair. He’d come up through the floorboards of her backstage workshop and stunned her with a single blow before hauling her into the pit. Now the hard, cold soil crumbled around them as Aon burrowed his way through the earth. She knew to keep her face turned toward him so she could breathe, but the feel of his hands on her made her stomach heave.

Don’t vomit. Don’t resist. Hendry would’ve had them kill you right there if he wanted you dead. You have to leverage the situation to keep Taran alive.

She’d bet faking calm while utterly terrified was something she’d learned from being adopted by Marion. She knew how much her adoptive mother had enjoyed making her cringe and cry, as if it fed some twisted need she’d had.

Finally, Aon changed direction and burrowed his way to the surface, shoving her out onto some frost-covered dead grass. Before Rowan could push herself up, he lifted her by the back of her jacket and held her dangling as the rest of the famhairean surfaced. She didn’t resist, but scanned the edges of the broad glen, where towering wooden totems stood in long lines. Some appeared still rooted in the ground, but most had been refined into immense humanoid forms.

As creepy as the place looked, it also had a strange familiarity, as if she already knew it well. Immense dead oaks made up most of the ancient forest surrounding the glen, and they looked like old friends. She could smell stagnant water from a loch she felt sure lay to the west of the glen. The empty sky should have been filled with birds.

What had happened here?

“No,” Aon grated, and Rowan looked to see Ochd coming toward her. “You betray Wood Dream.”

“Rowan’s to be mine,” the famhair countered. “You ken this.”

She didn’t know whether to be grateful or horrified, but she was definitely saying nothing for now. Somehow, she had to keep the giant on her side while convincing the druid and the others that he wasn’t.

Hendry came out of the ground with another giant and shook the soil from his robes before he came over to Aon. “Well done, my friend.” He studied Rowan’s dirty face, his viper-green eyes glowing with satisfaction. “How I’ve craved this moment.”

“I haven’t,” she told him, and shot a dirty look at Ochd. “But your spy did an excellent job of luring me into your ambush. He had me completely convinced that he was on my side. You should rent him out to despotic governments.”

“My spy.” The druid frowned. “I didnae send Ochd to find you, or trap you. He’s been leaving the settlement without my permission. This morning we tracked his spirit directly to you.”

“I found Rowan after you freed my spirit, Wood Dream,” Ochd told Hendry. “She welcomed my return. She even carved a body for me.”

That wasn’t true, or what Rowan would have chosen as a cover story, but she could work with it.

“Not like I could chat with a ball of light.”

“You claim she gave you sanctuary.” The druid nodded toward Taran, who still hung unconscious in Dha’s arms. “Why do you look like that one?”

“’Twas to deceive the Skaraven if they discovered us,” Ochd said. “I’ve gone several times, hoping to persuade my lady to return to us, and aid our cause. The Skaraven havenae treated her well. They use her as they would a peasant, to tend to their horses and chop their wood. She barely sleeps.”

And there was her out, Rowan thought. “I told you, Ochd, I’d rather be worked like a slave than be beaten and starved again.” She gave Hendry a grudging look. “Things haven’t gone exactly great for me with the clan, but even with the makeover, you and your crew are a lot worse.”

A teenage druidess capered into the broad glen from a direction that Rowan would have sworn held the village.

“Hendry,” she chirped in Murdina Stroud’s voice. She said his name over and over until she flung her arms around his neck. “’Tis done, my love. ’Tis done.” Her high voice cackled as she peppered his face with kisses.

As Hendry carefully extracted himself from her embrace, Rowan ground her jaw. The druidess might look like a kid but she sounded just as loony as ever.

“Let the whippings begin,” she said, looking at Murdina.

The mad druidess covered her mouth with both hands, sputtering with laughter.

“I wouldnae have caused you to suffer,” Hendry said. “But I couldnae single you out from the other females. As the last of my bloodline, I recognized your fortitude. ’Tis a trait shared by all Wood Dream.”

“So now I’m a member of your tribe?” Rowan covered her shock by making a rude sound. “Sorry, Hendry, but no sale. Ruadri and Emeline went back in time and witnessed the massacre. They saw everyone but you and your girlfriend die.”

“Aye, every member of our tribe perished that day,” Hendry agreed. “Including our headman, who had a dalliance with a mortal in a nearby village. When she swelled with his bairn he sent her away. That winter after the massacre she gave birth to his daughter.”

“You’re saying that kid was my ancestor?” When he nodded Rowan regarded Aon. “Could you put me down, Moron? I’m trying to have a conversation with potential family here.” The giant dropped her, and Rowan staggered a bit before she found her footing. “All right, so let’s say for the sake of argument that I’ve got Wood Dream blood.” She began brushing off the dirt clinging to her. “So, what? You want me to put you on my Christmas card list? Carpool to the next tribal reunion? Try out for Dancing with the Druids?”

“I dinnae ken of what you speak,” Hendry told her, and lifted a hand. “But we need you to break the spell left behind on this land, and help us avenge the slaughter of our tribe.”

That wasn’t all he wanted from her. She’d put money on it. He was practically licking his lips over getting her back.

“I’m a carpenter, not a druidess.”

“Look,” Murdina said, repeatedly jabbing her finger toward the sky. “Look. Look.”

Rowan glimpsed something stretching out over them and tilted her head back to see a seething, angry red light forming a dome over the glen and the forest around it.

“What is that?” she asked.

“The unfinished spell that holds our territory lifeless,” the druid said, looking even more pleased. “One that may only be ended by a member of our tribe performing the remainder of the solstice ritual. You, Sister, shall finish it.”

“Oh, right, because I’m so good at ritual wrap-ups,” Rowan said, trying not to look at the ugly light show again. “Come on, Hendry. What I know about all your druid crap couldn’t fill a cold pill capsule. Do it yourself.”

“I ken the way of it,” Murdina declared, suddenly serious. “I shall teach you.”

“To keep us imprisoned in the Storr those bastarts who judged Murdina and me made us immortal.” A muscle on Hendry’s jaw ticked. “We’re no longer druid kind. You’re the last of the Wood Dream bloodline. Only you may bring life back to our land.”

If he was right, which she suspected he was, then she had them over a barrel. Striking a bargain she had no intention of keeping would be ridiculously easy.

“All right. Maybe I could lend a hand. What’s in it for me?”

He spread his hands. “We’ve much to offer. What do you want?”

Rowan pretended to think about it. “A little revenge would be nice. Maybe a front row seat to watch you guys beat the Skaraven into the dirt.” She nodded toward Taran, who was now stirring. “And him. I want him.”

The druid chuckled. “Lily used that ruse at the mill farm. You’ll no’ convince me that he’s your lover, and later use him to escape.”

“My lover?” Rowan laughed. “Hardly. You should hear him talk about me. He says nicer things about you. But then he has a very good reason to hate me. I’ll show you.” She gestured to Aon, who after a nod from Hendry carried Taran over to them. “Put him down, right here.” She pointed to a spot directly in front of her.

Taran started to come to as the giant put him on his feet. “Rowan?”

Quickly she grabbed his jaw before he could say anything more. “You only answer my questions honestly now. Did you force me to work in the Skaraven stables so you could keep an eye on me, and keep everyone from finding out what I could do to you?”

“I did,” he said, his eyes darkening.

“Did you ever trust me?” It hurt to see him shake his head, but Rowan simply patted his cheek. “Good boy. Now, why did you tell Brennus to send me back to the future? Is it because you’re afraid of me and my power over you?”

His body shook, and then the word burst from him. “Aye.”

Rowan glanced at the fascinated druid. “At first I couldn’t figure out why he wouldn’t let me get near him. Then he got sloppy, and I found out.” She regarded Taran. “What happens to you when I touch you?”

This time Taran fought visibly not to answer her, but then muttered, “You compel me to do as you command.”

Hendry looked unconvinced, so she had to do something outrageous. “On your knees.” As soon as Taran went down she smiled at the druid. “Now pledge your loyalty to me, Hendry, and Murdina. Swear on your battle spirit that you’ll serve us faithfully.”

The horse master writhed as the words burst from him. “I…vow…by the…centaur spirit…to serve…you all.”

“You’re now my slave, pal. You don’t speak again unless I first give you permission.”

That would keep him from trying to control her by voice, Rowan thought, and ruining everything.

Murdina clapped her hands and laughed, while Hendry looked stunned.

Rowan smirked at him. “Any questions, Granddad?”