Page 45 of The Sirin Sisterhood (The Sons of Echidna #2)

Lucy

The day of the first trial began with an unusually quiet meeting.

Lucy joined Freya and the two older sisters outside Baba Yaga’s hut, while Klein and Lai had to wait further back, forbidden from approaching.

Her stomach gurgled miserably. She had skipped breakfast that morning, her guts churning so badly with nerves that she couldn’t have eaten even if she’d tried.

She’d also managed to hide away from the chilling stares of the coven by missing the meal.

The frigid glare Agata was aiming at her now was enough for Lucy to consider running into the forest. Whatever was in there couldn’t possibly be scarier than the fuming witch.

Freya didn’t even look at her, ignoring Lucy’s presence entirely. Even when she turned to exchange quiet words with her sisters, her eyes skimmed past Lucy as if she wasn’t there.

Lai was still in a sulk, avoiding Lucy as well.

It felt different from his usual huff. Usually, when Lai was truly angry, he wouldn’t avert his eyes.

He’d let his displeasure be known with cold glares and colder words, as sharp and mean as any dagger.

Now, he wasn’t looking at her at all, his eyes glued to the ground.

His posture was different, too. Usually, he stood straight, carefully balancing his inflated ego.

Not today. He looked shorter somehow, curled around his bruised self-esteem.

Klein told her they’d had a fight; she hadn’t pushed for details at the time.

She wished she had, now. Not knowing what Lai was thinking was driving her crazy, and she felt horribly alone without his teasing and laughter.

She had her suspicions; Lai had made no secret of how he felt about Lucy’s gambit, and it wouldn’t surprise her if Klein had defended her.

But rather than making her feel better, she just felt guilty for getting him involved.

She’d thanked him, of course. That night, outside the cottage, she’d muttered clumsy apologies as she’d leaned into him before retreating to her room in the long-hall, tossing and turning until morning.

She wished Klein was still close by. His frail-looking but rock-solid frame should have been there to catch her if she fainted. She frowned a little at the thought. She wasn’t going to faint over one skipped meal!

It was something like the start of a faint that struck her next.

Her whole world spun as the decrepit old hag emerged from her dwelling, eyeballing the cluster of witches at the foot of her stairs.

Freya made a noise, something between a cough and a whimper.

Lucy glanced at her competition and noticed a tremble in the girl’s pale hands.

Freya was afraid. She managed a strained swallow and a quick inhale as Baba Yaga offered her a simple woven basket, her hands steadying a little as she accepted it and clasped it tight.

Lucy was so preoccupied with studying her that she didn’t notice the ancient witch offering her one as well, jumping as it was pushed unceremoniously into her hands.

She accepted it and looked inside.

It was empty.

Nothing gross, no puzzles, no map.

Nothing at all.

She looked up at Baba Yaga, questions written all over her face. The hag wheezed out a laugh that could have spoiled milk.

“I’m craving something sweet. When I was a little girl, I picked wild strawberries in the forest. My youth has long since passed, my hands are gnarled, and my back has seized. Gone are the days when I could collect my own berries. Would you two lovely young ladies help me out?”

Lucy held the basket to her chest. Such a simple task, yet she felt a chill run down her back.

“Yes, ma’am.”She nodded, tossing a last glance at the crowd behind her. For the first time that day, Lai met her gaze. The hostility she had grown used to seeing over the past few days was gone, replaced with concern. He offered her a nod. Just a slight one, but she knew what it meant.

You can do it .

There was no whistle, stopwatch, or call to start the trial. She and Freya simply walked into the forest as others watched.

◆◆◆

Just find some strawberries. It sounded easy enough. The air was warm and seasonal, and Lucy remembered seeing fresh berries sprinkled onto the porridge at breakfast.

Following the path into the forest, she traced the birch tree trunks with her fingers.

The woods were beautiful, but she knew better than to relax in its embrace; she’d learned her lesson back at the manor.

Her ears twitched a little, almost expecting to hear the hum of faerie wings.

There was nothing, though, nothing but the hushed sound of Freya’s footsteps as she was followed in silence.

Lucy considered turning around to speak to her but decided against it. They were rivals, after all.

Picking up a stick, she used the end to lift some of the low-growing shrubs, looking for any flash of color on the forest floor.

Only then did Lucy realize she had no clue what wild strawberry plants even looked like.

She vaguely remembered the domesticated plants from Klein’s garden: a little jagged leaf and long stalks, with a single plump berry at the end of each stem.

She saw nothing like that among the fallen leaves and shrubs covering the ground, especially not among the snow.

Wait, what?

She felt ice crunch underneath her feet, her flimsy ballet flats completely soaked by the wet snow, the cold slowly seeping into her skin.

With a deepening frown, Lucy reached down and scooped up a little of the ice in her hand, watching it melt against her palm. It looked real, it felt real, but just a moment ago, she had been strolling through an early summer forest.

She straightened and looked around.

Everything about the cozy woods had changed. The ancient trees stood stoically, their gnarled, naked branches reaching toward the heavens in winter’s silent prayer as the wind whipped through boughs so high up that the sound of them creaking and swaying didn’t reach the ground.

Lucy glanced at Freya to check on her, forgetting they were rivals for a moment. The young witch was on her knees, reaching for frost-laced leaves, her face tight with desperation and fear, fumbling with the magic Lucy had failed to learn.

Was that what she was supposed to do? Negotiate with the frozen ground and ask it to surrender its out-of-season bounty?

Lucy was struck with sudden dread as, at last, she realized she was in over her head.

She was never going to get her name back.

She’d desperately tried to remember it all morning, but it danced away from her reach no matter how hard she concentrated.

She hadn’t worried at the time, thinking that it would be a simple matter of passing a couple of trials and winning it back.

Now, as snow fell silently around them, she was finally afraid.

The gentle frost began to lose its patience. Soft kisses on her cheeks became painful pinches as the cold sank into her bones. Lucy had to act, and fast, but to do what? She didn’t have a plan, not even the start of one, and time was running out.

“You just gonna stand there?”Freya snapped at her, shivering as the snow settled heavily on her shoulders.

Opening her mouth to retort, Lucy thought better of it.

The situation was grim enough without them fighting.

She flexed her fingers as she tried to think and felt Freya’s life strings brush against the tips.

The golden threads trembled in agitation, tense and tight.

There was no anger in them, only fear—fear so overwhelming it overpowered everything else, including Freya’s magic.

“Why are you scared?”Lucy asked. Freya turned sharply to face her.

“I’m not!”

Lucy bit her lip as she rubbed her own shoulders, trying to pat some warmth into her arms. Freya had every reason to be angry, but it was the first time she’d snapped at her.

It wasn’t unwarranted, not after all Lucy had done, but the pretty face twisted in repulsion reminded her so much of Lai that it was uncanny, and she knew that when Lai lashed out in anger, it was because he was too proud to admit that he was afraid.

Klein had told her as much during that last hug outside the cottage.

“I’m scared,”Lucy admitted, which seemed to take Freya back a little. “I’m sofreakingscared. I’m cold, I can’t feel my toes, and I don’t know how to talk to the forest. To be totally honest? I fucking hate forests.”

Lucy took a few steps towards Freya and knelt beside her, offering the girl her body heat.

“I was in almost this exact same predicament just last week. We were trapped in a frozen forest, unable to get home. I thought I’d lost someone I cared about. I felt hopeless. I’m not ready to live through it again, and I’m starting to think I’ve bitten off more than I can chew.”

Freya looked up, her teeth chattering. She dropped the furious mask, finally allowing herself to show her fear. “I’ve never been into the forest before. We are prohibited from entering. I grew up listening to stories of the horrors it holds, and now I must face them.”

She took Lucy’s hand and reached inside her dress pocket, drawing out a feather and offering it to her. Brilliant red and faintly glowing, it radiated just enough heat to soothe Lucy’s aching fingers.

Lucy took it gladly, cupping her hands around it. “If it makes you feel any better, this isn’t really too bad. So far, the forest has only tried to freeze us. The one we have back home sent faeries to try to murder us.”

Freya offered a small smile. “My magic isn’t working. This isn’t a complex trial. I’ve grown things before, but that was in the comfort of the village, where the plants and spirits are my friends. Here they are strangers, and refuse to listen to me.”

“Well,”Lucy decided, getting up and pulling Freya to her feet. “I know one thing for sure: We need to keep moving. This little hand warmer is great, but it won’t save us.”

Freshly determined, Lucy paced on the spot, getting her blood pumping and hot. “I was going to embrace the whole holistic magic style, but you know what? Fuck it. She told us to find her berries, but she never said we had to do it her way, and I’msoover forests trying to kill me.”

Freya blinked, watching her dance from one foot to another. “I don’t understand.”

“Your sister called me cruel for forcing nature,”Lucy smirked darkly. “I’m about to teach this forest a lesson in cruelty.”

She handed back the feather, took a step back as she drew in a lungful of icy air, and reached out her hands.

Slowly, as though sluggish with the cold, millions of thin gold threads reached back and caressed her fingers.

She greeted them and then let them return to their winter slumber, her senses alert as she sifted through the strings, searching for the familiar sweetness of the red, sweet berries that Klein had filled her palm with.

Patiently, she searched among every weed and every insect, letting all the memories of the forest pass through her.

She saw sunsets and sunrises. The change of seasons.

She felt the urge to store nuts for the colder month as her fingers connected with the threads of a squirrel that watched them from a nearby tree.

She felt tiny insects and ancient beings dwelling deep, deep within.

She connected briefly with a spirit so old that his threads were tarnished black with age.

The spirit reached back, examining Lucy before pulling away, determining her to be of no concern.

Suddenly, she found it—a tangy flash of sweetness on her tongue. She caught the string, tracing it in her mind. She could feel the plants hibernating under a thick blanket of snow in a clearing just ahead of them.

“Come on!”Lucy let go of the strings, taking a moment to re-orientate herself.

She was getting better at handling the life threads.

Memories used to flood uncontrollably through her, invading her senses, but now she could invite them in or let them pass.

She negotiated with them, using her intent as a shield against being overwhelmed.

Perhaps those lessons had come in handy after all.

Freya followed her, holding her basket to her chest. Her red leather boots squeaked over the freshly fallen snow.

Lucy dropped to the ground in the clearing, digging up a couple of inches of the snow cover to find what she was looking for. She pressed her hands to the frozen ground and focused on its heartbeat—slow, rhythmic, sleeping.

It was time to wake it up.

Lucy reached deep, forcing life to flow towards the clearing, urging the sleepy plants to grow new shoots and warming the soil around them.

The forest fought her, fought her like Gaia never had.

Gaia’s circuits allowed the power to be taken, but not this place.

Each tree blocked her attempts, tightening its roots.

Dozens of spirits sent thinly veiled threats down the strings, promising retaliation, but Lucy didn’t care.

She was a god, and she was cold enough to be cruel.

“You know what? Let’s make a deal. You let me grow some strawberries, and I won’t turn you into a frozen wasteland,”she huffed, sending her own warning back toward the forest.

That counted as negotiating, right?

Apparently, it did. The forest recognized her threat as legitimate, and the energy flowed towards the plants, green shoots peeking through and unfolding into pale green leaves. Flowers followed, and then berries, tiny, pale things hanging in shivering clusters.

“Are they supposed to be this small?”Lucy asked. Freya nodded, so she continued.

The berries swelled with moisture and filled the clearing with color, bright red jewels against the snowy white backdrop of winter.

Within a few minutes, they were ripe and full.

Just in time, too. Lucy let go of the threads of life with no small amount of relief.

The tarnished, ancient spirit had taken a fresh interest in her, and she didn’t think it would still see her as harmless if she kept going.

Freya laughed and fell to her knees, filling her and Lucy’s baskets.

She picked one berry to taste and made a face.

“A bit sour, but they didn’t have the sunlight to sweeten them.

Baba never said they had to taste good.”She shrugged, and both women laughed.

It didn’t matter that the berries were tart on the tongue, not when they tasted like sweet victory.