CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
ALYSSUM
It had taken a moment for the familiarity of the nightmare to strike me.
As I launched myself forward, darkness enveloping the ironbark forest on all sides, pursued by the moon-eyed Vacants who sought to steal my memories, there was nothing more than the faintest prickling sensation on the outskirts of my consciousness.
You’ve been here before.
The same autumn leaves crunched noisily beneath my boots, the same trees blurred in my periphery.
I collapsed against the identical moist ironbarks, chest heaving with the effort it took to breathe through my panic.
I couldn’t quite grasp the truth of it, but somehow I knew that I was very near the clearing where I would confront my brother and father.
I didn’t want to be there.
I didn’t want to see them.
Yet my feet carried me forward. Before long, I stumbled into the clearing, narrowly avoiding the clawing grasps of the hoard of Vacants.
Linus and Father were exactly where I knew they would be. Gleaming, sinister smiles peeling apart their faces, arms outstretched towards the carriage that would be my prison to Hollowmire.
But I had escaped, hadn’t I? I was in Grenythwood now. They couldn’t touch me here. Not unless I crossed back into Lunamor. Not unless I crossed the Threshold.
My father and brother began speaking together, alternating each word just as they had so many nights ago: “It’s time, Alyssum. We are coming for you.”
“No,” I whisper-screamed into the lightless sky. “I refuse to cross. You cannot make me!”
Except I am heading for the Threshold now.
The thought was fleeting, an insignificant shadow that I could not grasp, gone in an instant and replaced with the dense fog that began rising from the ground, backdropping the traveling carriage with its barred windows and the hungry beast I knew awaited my arrival.
“It’s time, Alyssum,” Father and Linus continued to sing through unsettling smiles.
The Threshold rose behind them, thick and whirling and reaching for the sky. A sky so black that not a stray twinkle of starlight could be found. Neither moon was available to me, only a canvas of complete and total darkness.
I needed the stars. I needed them to guide me, to save me.
I dropped to my knees, pressing my palm to my chest before presenting it to the sky. A desperate plea to nothing, given that the night seemed to have swallowed its inhabitants.
“Ancestors,” I managed through shaky inhalations. “Shield me with your starlight.”
I choked back a sob at the silence that greeted me. I fell forward onto my hands, gasping for air that would not enter my splintered lungs. Father and brother were nearing me now. I could sense their twitching limbs as they floated my way.
Suddenly, blood began to seep through the dirt between my fingers. I lurched backwards, scrambling from the sudden flood of red that oozed from the ground. That same thread of memory tugged in the back of my mind, pulling apart the seam of this illusion.
You’ve been here before.
Silver-green eyes. Unrelenting warmth. I could not see Vayen, but I could sense her. I could remember her. I could remember this place.
This was Gavner’s domain.
“The blood pit,” I ground out, casting my glance around the clearing I’d dreamt of before I’d ever laid eyes on it. “This is where the blood pit takes place.”
My voice was no longer a whisper into the night. Instead, it echoed around me, seemingly catching Father and Linus off-guard. They ceased their forward momentum, feet hovering above the ground as they studied me with creased brows and smiles that began to fade.
“I ran from you,” I suddenly said to my father, drawing my attention away from the blood that had replaced the forest floor. “And you will never lay your hands on me again.”
Before they could react, white light exploded into the clearing.
Just as I had in the carriage, I reflexively shielded my eyes from the blinding force with the back of my hand, barely able to make out Naeno in the now-illuminated sky.
The subtle blush of purple on her silver surface, the swirling vortex that captivated all of Morwyn and distinguished her from her sister moon.
The stars may not have been able to penetrate the black blanket of sky that hovered over us, but she was.
Father and Linus ceased their chorus before turning towards Naeno with pronounced grimaces, downturned and gaunt and fearful.
I took more pleasure in their terror than I should have, for I somehow knew what came next for them.
A growl emanated from within Naeno. A growl so deep, the blood pooling around my feet began rippling outward. It caused my bones to vibrate. Unfathomable, but delicious all the same: an enthralling hum that signaled the inevitable.
But Naeno was not alone. From within her, the enormous black wolf appeared, the same one that had been so very near consuming me in the barred carriage.
But I felt no fear, for I knew it was there to protect me.
The final sight I beheld was Father and Linus’ peel-apart smiles transforming into screaming grimaces, wide eyes frozen against the moon-sized, gaping maw that promised to swallow them whole.
I startled awake, wide-eyed and heartbeat roaring in my ears.
The stricken expression on my father’s face melted away as the unfamiliarity of my surroundings barreled into me.
I’d awoken in a crumbled hollow at the base of a boulder that had lost a rather large slab at some point in its history, offering refuge from Morwyn’s elements.
The fallen rock’s overhang extended just enough to protect from the rain, though dampness seeped into the moss and shrubbery collected beneath me.
It probably would have taken a moment to recall why I wasn’t resting comfortably in my bed at the Ugly Tankard, except Vayen crouched by my side, her features characteristically stony.
Oh, and my hands were still bound. That grim reality assisted my sleep-addled brain with its hasty recollection of recent events.
“Were you… were you watching me sleep?” I managed, propping myself up on one elbow to distance myself from her.
“I was about to wake you,” Vayen said, her voice low. “You were afraid.”
“I was having a nightmare,” I reluctantly admitted.
I worked myself into an upright position, shrugging the blanket from my body with disregard.
The damp air clung to my hair, pasting it to my neck and chest in a way I found wholly unpleasant.
I began combing my fingers through my pale locks awkwardly, the restricted motion of my arms summoning a scowl.
“You said the nightmares had stopped.” Vayen seemed curious, if not slightly concerned, which only served to exacerbate my annoyance.
“Indeed. I must not be in the best state of mind. Who would’ve thought?” I added with mock-surprise.
Vayen exhaled sharply through her nostrils before rocking back onto her heels and exiting our shelter.
There was barely enough room for her to stand, so she ducked her head as she made her way through the fallen trees framing the mouth of our camp, sidestepping a still-dying fire in the process.
Apparently keen on ignoring my jab, Vayen busied herself with Rummy.
He huffed plumes of breath into the cold air, ears twitching happily as she ran her hands down his neck.
For the first time in days, I had the space to properly assess my body, and I was not pleased.
My dress, which had been perfectly clean when I’d put it on, was now caked with grime and sweat.
The realization made my skin crawl. I’d hoped to steady myself with a deep inhalation, only to realize that I smelled ripely of myself and Rummy.
Stars, have mercy on me. I wasn’t sure that I’d ever felt quite so disgusting.
“Just… lovely,” I muttered bitterly. It took some doing, but I managed to work my way to my feet without leaning on the slimy, moss-slickened rock of our shelter.
I was keenly aware of the stiffness in my shoulders and wrists, and I could only imagine the raw skin that awaited beneath my bindings should I ever be successful in their removal.
I stepped out into the wood once more, puffing out a breath against the descending chill.
I drew Vayen’s jacket around my middle, one side at a time as my restricted movement allowed, watching as she readied Rummy for the journey ahead.
She’d forgone her shirt for a simple leather vest and dark, fitted trousers.
Of course, in true Videan fashion, she was bare from the shoulders down.
My eyes threatened to focus on the way her arm flexed beneath the weight of the two saddlebags she carried with one hand, but I instead cleared my throat and trained my gaze on her face.
“When will we reach the Threshold?” I asked.
Vayen, who had been in the process of draping a blanket over Rummy’s backside, paused. She hesitated there, as if debating whether or not to answer my question.
My cheeks warmed as I raised my voice, not quite yelling though harsh all the same. “I deserve to know. There’s a significant chance I will lose my memories when we cross. If this is my last day—” I swallowed around the fear knotting painfully in my throat “—I deserve to know.”
I could only see the side of Vayen’s face.
Low, sharp eyebrows hovering over half-lidded eyes.
That strong jawline, formidable save for the subtle arc as it met her long neck.
Full lips, unreadably tense, pressed together so tightly I thought she might not speak at all.
So when they parted, my attention locked there.
“We won’t cross today,” she said simply, as though her words weren’t pure starlight for my worried mind. “Ascending Mount Sor is treacherous under the best of circumstances. We’re lucky to be in autumn’s final cycle—even just a couple of weeks from now, the journey would be much more dangerous.”