“Welcome back, I suppose,” Elspeth hisses as she attacks my mind while Gabriel emerges from the trees and tackles Shannon. Del moves out of the way and struggles to stand up while Elspeth pins me to a nearby tree with her unleashed power. But she doesn’t know me anymore, doesn’t know that I overpowered Hel and that I can certainly put up a fight against her. I reach out with my will and curl it around Elspeth’s throat. The shock in her eyes is priceless. “It’s too late,” I tell her as I tighten my psychic noose around her neck. “Your world is dying, and your army is dying with it.”
She struggles against my power. Meanwhile, Shannon is having his own standoff with Gabriel, the inhuman being who possibly helped create him. I can only guess what exchange is happening between them right now. And I can’t help Shannon, as I have my hands full.
I realize a second too late that Elspeth is reaching out for my arm, the one Del cut with the knife while she was entranced. Elspeth’s nails dig into my fresh wound before I can pull away, breaking my concentration. I’m bleeding again, and Elspeth is smiling. “I only need a drop,” she growls.
Her hand smeared with my blood, she pushes me away and retreats, running for the chasm’s edge. There, she kneels on the ground and rubs my blood against the soil before standing up in anticipation. Gabriel twists out of Shannon’s grasp and sprints toward his daughter.
My eyes meet Shannon’s, while, in the periphery, I catch a glimpse of Del picking something up from the ground. A familiar glint sparkles as it catches a ray of random light. “Looking for something?” I call out as Shannon, Del, and I surround the father-daughter duo. Elspeth looks up, her eyes landing on the curved blade in Del’s hand while her mouth twists into a closed-lip smile.
“Why don’t you keep that?” she says. “A souvenir for you to gaze at wistfully when you’re drowning in regrets.”
Elspeth produces a simple Swiss Army knife from the folds of her robe and swiftly cuts her arm, then Gabriel’s. As their blood spills, the fog thickens in response, forming another vortex within the broken earth. Like in a bad dream that just won’t end, I hear a horse neighing nearby, a plaintive sound full of sorrow and disappointment meant just for me. A chorus of demonic whispers and the chiming of armor kick in. The clearing is surrounded with ghostly shapes and forms once more. “Oh, hell no!” I hear myself shout as I run at Elspeth. My mind uncoils, ready to strike.
But it doesn’t need to.
A white raven swoops from above and torpedoes into Elspeth’s back. Already teetering on the edge between our world and the other, Elspeth trips and falls forward, her hands flapping uselessly around her. Gabriel shouts something in the language of the Nibelungs, but it doesn’t matter. Elspeth’s already gone, having succeeded this time with this unstable gateway into foggy purgatory.
Gabriel falls to his knees at the spot where his daughter stood just moments ago. His hands, folded into fists, beat at the invisible barrier before him, but then something changes and his hands go right through it. He looks surprised, then triumphant. He doesn’t know about the devouring force that’s about to collapse the Nibelungen prison in on itself. How much time have they got? When I left their foggy world, the wave of destruction was already near. I’m about to warn Gabriel, but before I can, he jumps into the vortex and follows after his daughter.
Having exhausted its energy, the portal closes in on itself, sucking in all sound and moisture, leaving the clearing even more lifeless than before.
“Let’s get out of here,” Shannon says. I find his eyes and nod. This is over. There’s nothing left for us here.
I definitely got more than what I bargained for when I came to Promise four days ago, looking for closure, but on some level, I’m happy I did.
Shannon and Del head into the trees, and I’m about to follow them when I notice a tiny spot of white on the otherwise black ground. I approach, my breath already catching, because I know what it is before I see it clearly.
The white raven. Barely alive but its chest still moving, frantically fighting for breath. It must’ve been already weak when it got into the vortex with me and guided me out. Attacking Elspeth took what was left of its life force. I kneel on the ground before the bird and wait for it to reach out for me, to hear Mom’s voice in my head again. But Randy is silent, its eyes closing. The bird stops moving. Tears running from my eyes, I take off my Hunter hoodie and wrap Randy in it like a blanket. I can’t just leave it here in this place. The least I can give it is some quiet, in a spot near the Manor, as far as I can take it from these woods. I can’t quite think of the raven as “her,” I realize. Maybe I’m not ready to admit who the bird really is. Was. Maybe I never will be.
Shivering in my sports tank top, my hands busy with the little bundle that is Randy’s body, I walk away from the Black Clearing. I can’t see Shannon and Del yet, but hearing the sounds of their progress through the woods up ahead is reassuring. My heart slows down, my breathing returning to normal after the short but intense battle with Elspeth. I’m almost out of the woods, about to see the Manor down in the lowlands, when I hear my name.
I whirl around, almost dropping Randy. I don’t see the caller at first—just trees draped in fog. I only notice him when he moves, his armor-covered body tall and willowy. Seated atop Grane’s mighty back, Hel smiles at me. His bewitching gaze burns a hole in me when our eyes meet.
I blink, and he’s gone.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Aside from time, massive brainpower effort, and resilience, it takes a group of creative geniuses to turn a manuscript into a book. As a writer, I was lucky to have such a group to guide me through the complicated terrain that is book publishing toward what eventually became the final version of What the Woods Keep.
Words cannot adequately express my gratitude, but I’ll try. I thank:
Amy Tipton, my agent extraordinaire. Your immense knowledge, enviable skill set, and “we will emerge victorious” attitude are my shield and sword. It’s a privilege to be working with you.
Erin Stein, for taking a chance on me. You cannot be thanked enough. I will never forget the sheer joy of our first conversation—and all the awesomeness that followed!
John Morgan, for quickly stepping up to the task of making my debut-to-be better and better and better after joining my editorial team. I’m so psyched to keep working with you!
Rhoda Belleza, for your thoughtful editorial ideas and support. You rock!
Hayley Jozwiak and Kayla Overbey, for their excellent copy edit. (Reading your reactions to my quirky jokes was the best!)
Ellen Peppus and Signature Literary Agency, for always being so supportive, friendly, and a paragon of professionalism.
Jeff Miller at Faceout Studios, for the mind-blowing cover art design. Wow.
Nicole Otto and everyone at Imprint, for being splendid and always going above and beyond on all counts. Dawn Ryan, for her managing editorial excellence; Raymond Ernesto Colón for his work on the production of the book; and Natalie C. Sousa and Heather Palisi for art directing the cover and designing the book’s interior.
Preeti Arora, Jessica Smith, and Stephanie Makin, for being my first readers and for your unceasing enthusiasm for Hayden and her offbeat personality. Sorry I edited out the tree hollow—hope you like the vortex that came to replace it.
To all my fellow Electric Eighteens debuts! Thank you so much for all the support and your general awesomeness.
Last but not least, I thank my family across two continents and three countries (Olga and Vitaly; Angela, Paola, Roberto and Miguel; and Augusto—we miss you every day), but most of all I thank Jorge, my partner in mischief, travel, and everything.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
KATYA DE BECERRA was born in Russia, studied in California, lived in Peru, and then stayed in Australia long enough to become a local. She was going to be an Egyptologist when she grew up, but instead she earned a PhD in anthropology. Her stories tend to be set in strange locales where it rains a lot and odd things go bump in the nigh
t. Katya is a short version of her real name, which is very long and gets mispronounced a lot. On her blog, she muses about pop culture, urban fantasy, science fiction, and monsters. What the Woods Keep is her first novel.
@KatyaDeBecerra
Vist her online at katyabecerra.blogspot.com.au, or sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Epigraph
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Tenure Revocation Letter
Chapter 3
Codicil to Last Will and Testament
Chapter 4
Appendix to Patient Admittance Form
Chapter 5
Herald Point Press Article
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Observations Journal 2.0
Arista Kazan’s Lecture Notes
Arista Kazan Letter
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Observations Journal 2.0
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Hayden B. Holland Medical Notes
Chapter 14
Blue Haven Incident Report
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Hayden B. Holland Medical Notes
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright
Copyright © 2018 by Katya de Becerra
A part of Macmillan Publishing Group, LLC
175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010
fiercereads.com
All rights reserved.
To you who steals this book, beware—
Bad luck will trail you everywhere,
You’ll be plagued by gruesome forces and far worse,
For unleashing this book’s Nibelungen curse.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.
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Imprint logo designed by Amanda Spielman
First hardcover edition 2018
eBook edition September 2018
eISBN 9781250170637