Chapter 16
16
R achelle and I trained until dusk started to beckon, the sun dipping behind the horizon and painting our training grounds in its dying rays.
Rachelle drilled me on different movements, tossing me different weapons that she broke off the nearby tree that seemed to produce endless wooden maces, axes, and other methods of killing. After hundreds of drills, my muscles screamed and my body cried out for rest, but Rachelle just took my practice weapon from me and demanded we practice hand-to-hand combat drills again.
Rachelle had saved my life, but it was days like today that I felt like she’d be the death of me.
“So, the next trial,” I asked as I threw a punch at the tree we used for sparring, my hands wrapped in bandages, which helped absorbed the blow of my punch as I moved through fighting combinations.
“Harder,” Rachelle pushed me, watching my form.
“Yes, it’ll be harder.”
“No, you need to hit harder,” Rachelle said with a grin. “But the next trial usually takes place at the Order of the Serafim’s temple. It’s located up in the mountains past The Foggy Forest. From what I’ve heard, we go to honor Goddess Orsi, and there’s a puzzle to be solved. But I don’t know much more than that—and the Isle of Embermere could change any aspect of the trial at any time.”
“What does the Order of the Serafim do exactly?”
“I don’t know. They guard an Oracle who lives at their temple here, but it’s all rumors.”
We were sweaty and exhausted when Rachelle was ready to call it a day. All the rest of the prisoners had already retreated to their cells.
“Done?” Rachelle asked me.
“I think I’m going to stay and finish up some fighting combinations and then stretch,” I said, still feeling my muscles screaming. Even though I had been healed from the injuries of the last trial, my body still felt battered.
“Okay. Be careful,” Rachelle said, and as she left to find her way back to her cell, I realized that there were no guards left in the training grounds. Just as they had been in previous days, the guards were becoming more and more sparse.
Leaving us up to our own devices.
I suddenly felt the emptiness of the outdoor training ring as I re-wrapped my hands, scanning the grounds before I faced the punching tree again, its soft bark perfect for practicing fighting combinations.
I got in a few hits before I felt eyes on the back of my body, but as I whirled—there was no one. Nothing.
I sucked in a deep breath before turning back to the punching bag.
I’m alone, I reassured myself.
I jumped into a hard combination of kicks and punches. Trying to fight my invisible enemies. Trying not to relive the horrific moments of when my double had tried to kill me and steal my face.
“There she is, daughter of the sun and the moon,” a voice hissed from behind me.
I whirled, seeing Otto staggering toward me from the mouth of the cave that led into Ashguard. I gasped as I took in his leathery skin and wiry grey hair. He had aged ten years since I had seen him at the last roll call. Which meant?—
Cassandra . She was still draining him.
Otto took another precarious step, then tumbled to the ground of the mossy training grounds.
“Otto!” I ran to his side, and he groaned as his joints popped and cracked as I rolled him onto his back.
His hazy eyes found mine, and then his pupils suddenly dilated. His hands shot out to grab mine with a surprisingly strong grip as he held my gaze with intensity. “All of your paths lead to ruin. All except one .”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“You must make yourself worthy. You won’t be able to leave this island with what you want most until you win the final trial.”
My blood ran cold. “I don’t know if I can win,” I said.
But Otto just gripped me harder. “You must. If you don’t… none of us stand a chance against the gods when they finally are able to rise.”
“Rise? What do you mean?” I asked, but Otto started coughing, his grip falling out of mine before he rolled to his side.
He was coughing up blood.
I whirled, looking for guards. “Help! Please help him!”
But Otto just shook his head as he rolled onto his back once more, his lips glistening with blood. “It is my time to go. The fates are beckoning. But you can still choose life.”
“No,” I said, clutching his hands in mine. “You don’t deserve this?—”
“We all get what we deserve in the end,” Otto murmured, his breathing growing ragged. “The fates make sure of it.”
Then, his head went limp, and his eyes became unfocused as his breathing slowed to a stop.
My tears fell soft and silent like the first drops of rain. I hadn’t known him—not really. But I had seen Cassandra’s cruelty, had seen her drain the life out of him like she likely did to so many others.
I would pick whichever path that would end in her death—fates be damned.
Guards came to take Otto’s body away soon after, Callum with them. As the rest of the guards disappeared in the belly of Ashguard with Otto on a stretcher, I sat on the grass and unwound the fighting bandages from my hands, needing to feel the ground underneath my bare hands as I tried to keep my anger and sadness from boiling over.
“Are you okay?” Callum asked as he sat down beside me, a lantern beside him as the light of the day began to fully dim into evening.
“I’ll be more okay when I get revenge on her ,” I muttered.
“What if I said I could get your mind off all that?”
“Then I’d say I’m curious and I want to hear more,” I replied, lifting my gaze to meet his.
Callum’s eyes danced and he held out his hand. “Come. I want you to see something.”
I took his hand, letting him help me to my feet. He started leading me to the edge of the training ring, where the thorny rosebushes were.
“Careful, they’ll—” I started. But Callum turned to me, withdrawing something gleaming from his pocket. An Illumia Crystal.
“Watch,” he said, and held up the crystal to the thorny rosebush. It shrunk away from the crystal, creating a pathway for us to walk through. A free pass for him to wander the island without harm.
“Is this a prison break?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Of sorts,” he said with a smile that lit up his entire face.
“Has any prisoner stolen an Illumia Crystal and successfully escaped the trials? Asking for a friend,” I said as I followed him through the forest.
Callum sighed. “Don’t think you’d be safe and sound back on the mainland by now if I knew how to do that? You’d need at least one fast-moving ship to make it off this island, but Luminaria and its allies maintain a massive naval presence in the Cimmerian Sea. No one gets close to Embermere during the trials without their ships intercepting them. So even if you did somehow seize a sea worthy vessel, you’d need to keep it hidden from the King until the day of your escape attempt. Because it would be an attempt ,” he said.
“Sounds like you know a thing or two about the King’s forces,” I said. “When were you going to tell me that you not only commanded the King’s guard—but his entire army?”
Callum looked back at me, his lips twitching into a smile as he held his lantern aloft. “It’s not polite to brag.”
“It’s not polite to keep me in the dark, either,” I said, unable to help my irritation.
Callum paused, lowering his lantern. “You’re right. It isn’t. So how about I illuminate another secret I’ve been keeping from you these past few days?”
Another secret? I felt my own weight a bit heavier on me, but I just nodded.
Callum led us deeper into the forest, his lantern light bouncing off towering trees that seemed to sway to some invisible rhythm of the night.
“Watch your step,” Callum said as we crossed over thick tree roots, pushing through branches until we reached a clearing in the forest.
As we stepped into the small meadow, ahead of us sat the most charming cottage I could have ever imagined. It was cream colored with brown trim and bright flowerboxes overflowing with well-maintained flowers, and a rounded wooden door and two open windows. It was a small cottage—probably just a single room by the looks of it from the outside—and as we approached, smoke piped cheerily from the small chimney, a fire roaring inside that seemed to warm even the chilly clearing itself.
But what pulled me forward was an open window—where fresh baked bread sat waiting on the sill, an aroma of rosemary and other fine herbs swirling in the air.
“What is this?” I whispered, something tickling the back of my mind as the scents of the cottage wafted toward us.
Callum watched me, his expression open and vulnerable in a way I hadn’t seen before. “I’ve been working on it every since you arrived. It’s a replica of the bakery you ran with your mother. I thought seeing it might help you remember Riverleaf and our past together.”
I looked up at him. In the glow of the light that spilled from the cottage, I could see the ripple of his muscles below his guard uniform, but his hard exterior had softened. He was searching my eyes to see how his act of kindness would be received. But before I could form words, Callum took my hand, leading me to the front door.
“Here, let’s go inside,” Callum said, a boyish grin lighting up his face as we approached the cottage. He opened the door, pulling me inside.
The cottage was warm and the smell of the crackling fire and freshly baked bread continued to swell over me in waves. Inside, it was simply decorated with just a sitting area, a large wooden table in the kitchen, and some small wooden counters. I shed my boots at the door, not wanting to bring any of the outdoors with me into the cozy space. But as I shucked my boots and socks by the entry and ventured further inside, I saw that there was not just one loaf of bread on the sill, but so many different types of sweet rolls and pastries that had been baked alongside other gorgeous loaves baked with things like olives, sundried tomatoes, and walnuts and cranberries. The counters were overflowing with stunning baked goods that took my breath away.
Callum showed me around the small space as I followed him in awe. “This is the desk where your mother would record order slips while you baked. You were always here, by the window, where you could look out while you rolled out the dough. Your roller was always to your right and your bowl of water to the left. I tried my best to replicate the oven but it was hard to get it quite right. It was made with old brick with materials from the village where your mother grew up. I couldn’t find anything like it here, but I did my best to get the coloring right. I hope… I hope it feels familiar to you.”
He paused, watching me as I walked around the space, taking it all in. I knew in that moment Callum was entrusting me with a piece of himself that I knew he didn’t share with others—perhaps not with anyone. As I took in a place that indeed had a lingering familiarity, I was overwhelmed by his gesture.
“You did this—built this—all for me?” I asked, still in shock.
“Yeah… I mean—” he ran his hand through the gold-brown locks of his hair, “I’d do anything for you.”
“This is… incredible,” I said. How could I have doubted this man? Even with what Rachelle had said in the library, even with him being the King’s right hand man in the war they were waging against Stormgard rebels—he was and had always been my Callum.
“I had a little help from a few of my men who were happy to have a break from Ashguard. But the bread? Yes, I baked all of it. I’ve heard that sense memory can be a powerful thing. Here—” he said, going to cut a piece of the rosemary sourdough loaf from the sill, placing it on a porcelain plate and slathering it with a small pad of butter, “—tell me what you think.”
I took the small plate from him, my heart overflowing with the immense kindness of it all. I took a bite of the warm bread—and nearly melted. I closed my eyes, savoring the taste of rosemary, the slight saltiness of flaky sea salt, and the soft interior of the perfectly baked bread.
Callum leaned against the sturdy wooden table at the center of the kitchen, watching me in anticipation.
I finished chewing the bite, setting down the plate.
“So?” he asked, watching me as I finished the piece of bread, washing it down with a clay mug filled water. He waited patiently, his gaze hopeful.
I lifted my eyes to him, stepping closer to him as he encircled my hips with his strong arms. “It tastes like home,” I murmured, and then leaned up to kiss him. I pulled away, just slightly—“ you taste like home.”
His rough hands lightly traced up my bare arms, sending shivers reverberating through every inch of my body as he moved his mouth to my ear. “I’ll do anything to keep you safe, Saffron. Anything .”
His words lit a fire in me, and our lips crashed together once more. I brought my arms around his shoulders and then up further, twining my fingers in his hair. Our kiss became more heated, and I warmed at his touch. My body buzzed with sensation as his fingertips skated underneath the simple white tunic shirt I had worn into the training grounds. His fingers brushed the underside of my breasts as I shivered.
I needed so much more than just a kiss this time.
Callum seemed to understand, and he lifted me up like I weighed nothing and pulled me onto the table, and in the process knocked over an open bag of flour onto the ground, which burst into a huge cloud of white powder. I giggled as we were both covered in the white dust, but a glint entered Callum’s eyes as he pulled away from me, starting to draw circles in the flour that coated my skin.
“You’ve made a mess,” he said, his tone promising something sinful as his gaze raked over my body.
“What are you going to do about it?” I challenged, sensing the dark, animalistic side beneath his carefully pressed commander’s uniform. I wanted him unleashed upon me.
He took a step back, leaning against the nearby counter and crossing his arms. “Undress,” he commanded.
My lips twisted into a grin. “Is that an order?”
“It is.”
I slipped off the table, standing before him. As I lifted my tunic shirt over my head, I felt his ravenous eyes take in every inch of my exposed skin. I unbuttoned my breeches, letting them fall at my feet with my underthings. I stepped out of my discarded clothes, my bare feet feeling the warmth of the wood floor. I went to the wrap at my breasts, but before I could begin to unwind it, Callum had crossed the small distance between us, like he could no longer keep a part of himself caged.
“Let me,” he demanded, and I felt an edge of hunger in his voice as his calloused hands went to the strip of linen. He began unwinding it, his lips finding the juncture where my neck met my shoulder, pressing kisses as his strong fingers stripped me bare.
“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” he whispered as the last shred of my clothes hit the floor, his eyes roving over every inch of me.
“I want to see you,” I pleaded, tugging at the hemline of his shirt. He reached down, pulling it off, his movements surging with purpose as the heat continued to build and coil between us. As the fabric revealed his toned abs, I felt my breath catch. He tossed the remaining scraps of his clothes aside, but couldn’t stay parted from me for too long, and there was nothing separating us now. His lips crashed back onto mine, and I felt the hardness of him through his pants as every inch of his body melded with mine.
I felt the vibrating need between both of us, something feral and hungry. A primal need clawing its way to the surface as skin slid against skin, my body begging for what it was due.
Callum’s fingers traced the lines of my body, down my breasts, down past my stomach, meeting the apex of my thighs where heat pooled between them.
“Fuck, Saffron, you’re already so ready for me, aren’t you?” his voice rumbled in my ear, and I felt my hips buck involuntarily as his hand cupped my core.
“Callum,” I breathed, feeling drunk off his touch and wanting more.
He didn’t keep me waiting, and a needy, mewling sound escaped my lips as he slipped a finger inside of me. I kept my arms wound around his neck as he started to move, my core dripping for him as he worked me.
Callum’s thumb swept over that sensitive bundle of flesh and I arched into him. “Glad to see you’re as impatient as I am,” he said, and I melted into him even more.
He added a second finger, a delicious feeling of being stretched shuddering through me as his electric touch threatened to undo me. I fell back on the table, and he towered over me.
“Just like that,” he said, kissing his way down my heaving chest as he pulled moans from my body, playing me like an expert musician with those strong, talented hands.
Once again, I felt that sensation. Of my body drinking from some invisible well. Pulling something into me, as if I were tucking a secret into my soul.
I was so lost in his kiss, his touch?—
—I barely heard the door as it splintered to pieces with a crash .
The haze of lust cleared in an instant. Callum was off of me and turning to who had just entered the cottage.
Not who , I realized?—
—but what .
The creature unfolded its twisted mass through the cottage’s doorway. It was a humanoid mass of roots and wood with glowing eyes and a twisted face with sharp teeth—what I would imagine a demon made from the heart of the forest might look like. Its core pulsed with sickly yellow light as fungal clusters beat in its makeshift ribcage, while dozens of writhing roots scraped against the floorboards.
Callum lunged for his sword, unsheathing it and standing between me and the thing as the twelve-foot horror began its hypnotic swaying dance, root-limbs weaving patterns that made my vision swim. The sweet smell of disturbed earth filled the cabin as the creature's root tendrils began breaking through the floorboards, the sound of splintering wood mixing with an ethereal chiming that seemed to come from the beast itself. I saw the floorboards that were splintering were coming straight toward Callum, and I saw the root slip out and snake for him before he did.
“CALLUM!” I screamed, but it was too late. The thick root snatched Callum’s ankle, holding him up and tossing him against the far wall of the cottage where he landed with a dull thud .
Callum groaned in pain. I had to do something . I looked around for a weapon, but there was nothing.
The thing stalked toward Callum, and it raised one of its root arms?—
—which sharpened into a sword made of glittering obsidian rock. Its earthen sword hovered over Callum, his own sword out of reach. His arms were pinned down by its roots, and he was unable to call upon his shield.
He’s not going to make it.
Fear shot through me. I was going to watch Callum die—right here in the cottage he had constructed to help me remember who I was. He had fought and broken rules and endangered himself for me.
I couldn’t let him die.
The feeling was innate, just as much a part of me as it had been in the second trial.
As if on instinct, I dropped to a single knee, my arms rising above me in a cross.
The power blasted out from me, originating at my heart and racing through the air. The particles shimmered and shot out, a glittering barrier passing over Callum and yanking the creature from where it stood, blowing it straight through the opposite cottage wall.
The dust settled, and the glowing continued to pulse as Callum stared at me, his jaw slack as he stumbled to his feet, unharmed.
I was once again wielding a shield. Callum’s shield. Protecting him when he couldn’t.
He approached me slowly, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Lower your arms, Saffron.”
But I was still breathing heavy, in shock as the shield shimmered above me.
“Lower them,” he said again, a steady command, but I felt frozen.
Rachelle had told me to keep this a secret. And Callum now had seen it—would he be forced to go to the King? My mind whirred as my secret was on full display, and I was turning over the consequences in my mind.
Callum advanced toward me as the shield continued to glitter above us.
“You can’t let anyone else see,” he said—no, he begged . Only at his frightened words did I yield, Callum’s shield— my shield—vanishing.
But even as the magic dropped and Callum swept me up in his arms, I saw the flash of fear on his face.
What had I done?