CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO #3
When the canopy overhead thickened like a blanket of weeds intent on blotting out the morning sun, I knew we were finally nearing the village.
Praise the stars, because my nose and cheeks had once again succumbed to the biting cold.
My hands were firmly shoved into Vayen’s jacket pockets, still managing to retain their sensation, though my toes weren’t quite as lucky.
I was in the middle of contemplating the piping hot bath I would enjoy upon our return when Vayen startled me out of my thoughts.
“I think I’ve earned myself a question.”
“Oh?” I tilted my head curiously in her direction.
“I understand that you’ve been fed nightmares where sorcery is concerned, but you’re not in Lunamor anymore. Depths, you’re not even a full-blooded Lunamorian. Why are you so hesitant, so intent on keeping your distance?”
“I’m surprised you’re asking, given how quick you are to speak of my kingdom’s preference for ignorance,” I said with an upturned nose.
“Your kingdom does prefer ignorance, but you’re in Grenythwood now. You’ve experienced all manner of sorcery, and yet uncertainty emanates from you in the face of something as simple as imbuements. I want to understand why.”
“I haven’t experienced all manner of—”
“Almost drowning in the Threshold, that’s one.
Unveiling, there’s another. You witnessed the after-effects of blood wielding with that Hollow’s brooch.
” The muscles beneath Vayen’s arms rippled as she flexed, something she seemed unaware of.
But her tone had taken on an unmistakable darkness when she added, “Not to mention Gavner’s artifact. ”
I heaved a sigh, my already minimal patience evaporating at an alarming rate. “What exactly is your point?”
Vayen seized the crook of my arm, pulling me to face her. “The stars are still there even if you insist on keeping your eyes closed. So why close them?”
I looked up into those strange eyes, knowing somehow that she had reached the heart of her inquiry.
She hadn’t eased me into it, or manipulated me into a state where I might spill more than I meant to.
She truly wanted to know why my tone was laced with disbelief despite overwhelming evidence, and she wanted me to relinquish that truth willingly.
I inhaled deeply. A serious question deserved a serious answer, but I could hear the trickling brook. I could see the pathway that veered towards the village. We were so close to home.
“Can’t we discuss this inside? I’m fairly certain ice has seeped into my veins.” I tried to free myself from her grip, but she didn’t loosen.
“I need to know,” Vayen pleaded. She lowered her chin to meet my gaze, shifting the damp curls on her forehead.
Her indented brow, the tilt of her head, and those still-parted lips were a little too convincing for my taste, yet I was rooted to the spot, swimming in a starburst of emerald green that fought off the silver in her eyes.
I couldn’t explain why, but I felt compelled to give her the most honest answer I was capable of giving.
“There’s a tapestry in the castle archives that depicts the Threshold.
” When I spoke, Vayen released me. In submission, I drew my arms together, cradling myself against the chill.
“I used to stare at it and wonder if the horrifying stories my brother wielded against me were true. My fear became so great that I stopped visiting the archives altogether; Tilda, my chamber tutor, was less than amused. But the nightmares wouldn’t cease.
There was only one solution I could think of.
I had to close off the portion of me that could believe in such things—for my own sanity. So I did. At least, I thought I did.”
“It didn’t work?”
“Oh, the nightmares stopped. But the girl who heard truth in those frightening tales? She must have survived, for sixteen years later, when I spotted two Sentinels traipsing beyond the wall, all I could think of was her. Of the girl I was. The way I used to believe in more than what my two eyes were capable of seeing, and not all of it frightening. So, I followed them through the wood and ended up witnessing my very first crosser. He was a Vacant, of course, but he came bearing a message for his family: cross if necessary. It was this message that allowed me to cast my fears aside and make the impossible decision to cross myself. To believe that the stars would guide my steps and protect me from whatever horrors may or may not exist on the other side.”
I hadn’t noticed the tears pooling in my eyes until one fled down my cheek, leaving behind an icy trail.
“But I fear that the stars did not guide me, because I very nearly died, if not worse. I know I should be grateful that Milo and I found one another. But all that consumes me is the image that flashes in the theatre of my mind—the pitch-black bottom of that water. What if… what if those were the depths? Is that where I’d be now, if the waters had taken me?
Drifting into that eternal blackness? Never to ascend with the stars of my ancestors? ”
My own heartbeat sounded in my ears as panic wove through my veins.
“You poke at the fear Lunamorians have where sorcery is concerned, while unknowingly serving up a list of my nightmares. Every bit of sorcery I’ve encountered has been dangerous.
I’ve nearly succumbed to it more than once now, and what if…
what if…” That familiar jolt of energy prickled my arms and legs and I inhaled purposefully with closed eyes to ward off the dissociation that flooded me.
What if this was all a mistake? What if I was living on borrowed time as yet another Lunamorian failing to thrive outside of Lunamor? What if—
Suddenly, two impossibly warm hands cupped my freezing cheeks. My eyes shot open only to find us face-to-face.
“Look into my eyes,” she commanded, her pupils narrowing. They were the smallest I’d ever seen them, swallowed by green and silver swirling together in a mystifying way. “And breathe with me.”
I matched her breath, inhale for exhale, my attention never wavering from her perfect warmth warding the bitter chill from my cheeks and those hypnotizing eyes shifting between my own.
“You are safe now,” Vayen promised me. “And you were safe in the Threshold, even if you didn’t know it at the time.
I can say with absolute certainty those are not the depths.
You were in no danger of what you feared.
The Threshold lacks grace, but she does not make mistakes—if she wanted you dead, you would be in the stars with your people.
Instead, she did what she had to do to shield you. ”
I believed every word coming from Vayen’s mouth. Whether that was because I found comfort in her words, or the entrancing way her eyes captivated me, I couldn’t say. Regardless, the thrumming of my heart ceased its gallop.
“She… she did?”
“Of course. If those who were after you had followed, they wouldn’t have met the same fate.
She moved you to protect you. She brought you to Milo.
By my estimation, you have nothing to fear where she is concerned.
And your unveiling? You suffered because of the Hollow blood in your pocket, not because you’re Lunamorian.
I believe that sorcery is searching for you, Alyssum.
I suspect it’s waiting for you to acknowledge it. ”
Vayen made some interesting points. They weren’t strong enough to dissuade my fear of sorcery, and nothing she’d said tipped the scale where walls of fog and the large, saucer eyes of Vacants were concerned, but it had served to steady my body.
“Perhaps,” I admitted with a small nod. “Can you at least attempt to understand? This… this is what happens whenever I try to confront the oddities of your world. It’s overwhelming.
I’ve already lost everything and everyone from my past life.
If I abandon my grip on the realm I’ve always known?
I fear it may be too much for my mind to take. I’m safer away from all of that.”
When Vayen dropped her palms, the autumn chill rushed to banish the remnants of her overwhelming heat. The contrast was instant, prompting a sharp inhale as I averted my gaze from her entirely.
“Thank you,” I said with sincerity. “For your… unusually warm hands.”
A smile bracketed Vayen’s lips, and I pressed my own lips together to hide a small, humored smirk. But her gentle expression was short-lived. “I understand. I can’t say I agree with it, but at least I grasp where your mind has taken itself.”
“I hope you’ll extend me that kindness where other matters are concerned,” I said rather pointedly. “At the very least, I can work on painting a more affable portrait of the Threshold in my memory. For that, I am grateful.”
There was a look in Vayen’s eyes. Present one moment, gone the next, and impossible to interpret. I wondered if anyone had managed to perfect the art of reading this woman. What a rare imbuement that would be.
“You said sixteen years.” Vayen’s brows knitted together as though she were trying to solve a problem. “How old are you?”
“I’m not sure that’s an appropriate—”
“Alyssum,” Vayen groaned.
“Twenty-two!”
“When is your birth date, exactly?” And when she was met only with silence, “Just answer the damn question.”
I chewed on my lower lip, pressing a palm to my chest to dissuade the fear threatening its return as Vayen’s wide eyes searched my face.
As much as I wanted to keep the truth from her, my birth date was common knowledge in Lunamor; it wouldn’t be too difficult for Vayen to find out, should she put her effort there.
So I set my jaw, preparing for the explosive reaction I knew this would summon.
“I was born twenty-two years ago, on the seventeenth day of winter’s second cycle,” I admitted with downcast eyes.
“Almost twenty-three years ago.” Vayen stepped away from me, running her hands through those damp curls and pulling at the root. Her eyes were wild as she paced in front of me, clearly consumed by her discovery. “That’s only one day after…”
“I know,” I said pointedly. “We weren’t notified until weeks after the fact, but the connection was brought to and dismissed by the Council.”
“Depths, Alyssum. You and the Threshold were born on the same fucking day?”
“No,” I corrected with a raised finger. “The Threshold appeared on the sixteenth day of winter’s second cycle, not the seventeenth.”
“Your argument holds about as much weight as a tuft of mermoss. What time of day were you born?”
“…Shortly after midnight, but that’s neither here nor there!”
Vayen’s words grew more frantic, an expression of wonderment pulling at her features. “Do you know what time your mother went into labor?”
Her question—or rather, my lack of an answer—stung more than it should have, and I managed only silence in reply.
“So there’s a possibility that the Threshold could have come into being while your mother was laboring you. You don’t find that the tiniest bit coincidental, given all that we’ve learned?”
I threw my hands starward, fear overtaken by incredulity. “What exactly have we learned? That I might be a potential Vessel? Or perhaps that my mother should have had me a few days prior so that I could avoid the undue scrutiny my birth date brings?”
Vayen returned to me, seizing my shoulders with a pleading expression. “Why can’t you see? What if all of this—all that’s happened to you, to me—what if this is fate?”
“You think I was fated to be attacked by my betrothed, to sacrifice everything that I’ve ever known in exchange for…
for what? For a piece of a Goddess’ soul, whatever the depths that means?
For power that neither you nor Scholar Whick can even define, that you only pray might save your people from the torment you’ve all been fated to endure? If you knew anything about me at all…”
“You’d be surprised what I know about you, Alyssum Lunamor.”
It may have been the surety of her gaze, or my addled mind trying to make sense of the senseless, but I wanted to believe her despite myself.
The way her attention fell slowly over my features whenever we met, a focus rooted in me whenever we were near.
Vayen made me feel observed. Perhaps even seen.
But I wouldn’t submit to her; not when it was my freedom and my life she sought.
“I doubt that very much,” I lied.
“It seems doubting is something you’re quite good at,” Vayen said, releasing my shoulders.
“There isn’t the slightest bit of you that feels you’re destined for something greater?
Something more than tending to a tavern bar or marrying some prick who could never hope to deserve you?
What if you could save people? What if you could save Milo? ”
Milo’s boyish features and wavy hair flashed before me.
Last night, I almost did put myself at risk to save him, much to my own surprise.
I wouldn’t deny that, even to myself. But what she asked of me now?
It was beyond what I was capable of. If she truly knew me, that wouldn’t come as a surprise to her.
So I steeled myself in the face of her desperation.
“Can you promise me I won’t lose my memories crossing the Threshold?”
Vayen’s shoulders rose and fell with the evidence of a pained sigh. “No.”
“Then you have your answer,” I said with finality. “I already had a higher purpose, and I abandoned it for my own sake. I refuse to put my life at risk for you or anyone else. I only hope you can find it within yourself to forgive me.”
I turned on my heel with every intention of storming off to the Ugly Tankard, but before I could summon another footstep, a cloud of bright pink spores enveloped me and the forest plummeted into darkness.