40
Flare
The silk shawl rippled through my hands like a watercolor. Blues and greens swam across the ancient fabric and poured through my fingers. A treasure, easy to hold and just as easy to release.
Bolts of cloth and open chests crowded the textile cellar. Because the rainforest found its way into everything, blossoms snaked through the jagged crevices. Petals illuminated the space, along with the torch I’d ignited.
I should have been gathering preserved blankets and pillowcases. Instead, my fingers unfolded the shawl and pictured an ocean wave unfurling. I envisioned two bodies lost in that sea, lost in each other. Their bodies joined at the waists, the male’s hips lunging between the woman’s spread thighs.
My eyes closed. And I remembered.
Mere hours before, when the lashing waves had surrounded us. My limbs tied around Jeryn’s wet muscles. His pants low and his cock pivoting into me. Divine Seasons, how violently the villain prince had claimed me, and how wildly I’d claimed him back.
In our shared cell, sex with Rune had been a distraction. In this rainforest, I could barely name what had happened with Jeryn, because no description felt large enough, wide enough, or deep enough.
I’m going to fuck you until we break.
My skin heated as if I’d been dipped in a cauldron. Yearning gripped my chest, my stomach, my throat.
In the dining hall, I had told him to leave The Phantom Wild. That had been my wish, the rightness and wrongness of it clashing on my tongue, so soon after mating amidst a star-filled ocean. I had meant every word and hated it at the same time.
… until we break.
He’d kept his promise. From the moment his mouth had slammed against mine, too many emotions had been severing me in half.
I folded the shawl and placed it back into the chest. As I rose, his scent wafted from my skin as if he’d seeped into me. Unable to stop myself, I inhaled the back of my wrist, drawing needle forests and blustering winds into my lungs.
His home, which I would never see. His court, which would take him from me.
A shadow materialized. A slender hand glided into view, a leaflet of parchment tucked in a set of groomed digits.
“You forgot this,” Briar said from beside me.
Turning, I accepted the sheet with a tired smile. The princess stared, empathy painting her freckled features. A plait of red hair blazed from her head, and the scarlet ribbon hugged her wrist, proving she needed no other embellishments to set this continent on fire.
We hadn’t known each other for long, yet we’d saved one another’s lives, and a true kinship had formed. I had missed her dearly, and she’d come here for me, and that bond had tightened. I loved her, as I loved Poet.
As I reached out to cup her face, Briar’s gray eyes softened, expressing the same emotion. In fascination, she took in the sumptuous gowns and swimming garments, amusement filling her voice. “It’s a wonder we managed to tear Poet from this chamber during the tour. Though, it won’t be long before he returns.”
We chuckled. Then her attention traveled to the blossoms coiling through the cellar, the petals glowing like jewels. Shaking her head in awe, the princess swept her gaze to me and beamed. “You found what you were looking for.”
Not quite yet. I had found the rainforest, a fauna pack, and a clan of friends. And I had found more in the prince. But I hadn’t yet unearthed the key to my purpose, still hidden somewhere among these walls.
I thought back to what Jeryn had said at the cove, when I confided in him. What did I suppose my mission would be? What part of me would serve that purpose? And why couldn’t I answer that without the rainforest’s help?
Meaning your self-made abilities are irrelevant compared to what nature designates for you? That discovering the map had only to do with fate instead of any personal skill?
You’re selling yourself short, Flare.
I hadn’t known how to respond to that. I’d only ever assumed the forest would dictate everything. Yet the unsettling questions had been burrowing deeper, forming a gaping hole of uncertainty in my head.
Nonetheless, my spirits lifted. Briar had remembered what she’d said in Autumn’s dungeon, when we first met.
I hope you find what you’re looking for.
While explaining my quest to the clan, I’d told them about being summoned to the rainforest through the song lyrics and its hidden map. Because I had called to the jester and princess, The Phantom Wild had allowed them passage as well. No one had seen them come, and no one would see them go.
I took up the leaflet and quill. But truly, this forest found me.
Briar smiled. “Then it chose wisely.”
“Why?” interrupted a feminine voice.
Aspen stepped from the cellar stairs, her hood draped around her face. Dropping onto a humped chest, she cocked her head. “Why did this place choose you? Why you, over anyone else? What makes you more special than other people?”
Briar’s expression sobered. She opened her mouth to reproach the girl, but I set my palm on the princess’s shoulder, quieting her.
For a moment, bafflement lurched in my gut. I peered at the girl, who held her breath in anticipation. She had a snarky tongue, which I liked. Although her appearance with the First Knight had startled me, the rainforest surely had approved of their presence, and I’d been delighted to meet them.
Honesty had radiated from the soldier. Because of that and his otherworldly bond with the elements, I felt an immediate kinship with him. Besides, Poet and Briar trusted the knight, and they’d needed the backup, and he would not betray them.
Neither would this girl. This mystery female, who had vine patterns twining across her skin, as though she were made of trees. I’d seen glimpses here and there from under her sleeve.
She wasn’t asking this question to be mean. She was asking to understand.
This returned me once more to Jeryn’s questions. What did I think the quest would be? Which part of me was suited to the mission? Without the key’s help, I still didn’t know how to respond.
But I did understand the ultimate goal.
Flattening the parchment against a wall, I scripted my reply. If I’d been given a choice, I would have asked the rainforest to give sanctuary to my tower mates instead of me. And if I were selfish, I would keep this land to myself, hide away, and do nothing. Fated I may be, but this quest isn’t about me. It’s about born souls.
Aspen stood and inched nearer to read the page. She pursed her mouth in contemplation, then shrugged. “Well okay, then.”
We exchanged grins. My mouth flashed teeth, and her lips curled, a beauty mark tucked above her upper lip.
An investigative expression crossed the girl’s face. “So you’re a sand drifter, right? And you uncovered these ruins? The tales say drifters know how to discover relics and things. In that case, how do you track down something that … that doesn’t want to be found?”
Briar tilted her head. “Such as?”
“Nothing specific.” Aspen shrugged. “Just curious.”
She wasn’t just curious, but the princess and I didn’t probe. We respected a person’s sacred yearnings and knew the value of protecting one’s secrets, much like those exquisite physical traits she kept hidden.
Pensive, I thought about her question and wrote, You go where people don’t think to look. Or sometimes where they don’t dare to search. And you follow your heartbeat.
From under the hood, the girl’s eyebrows seemed to crinkle, but she accepted that answer. Then her attention strayed to the trove of patterns and fabrics.
Intrigued, she strutted to a case of bangles. “So where else has your heartbeat led you?” Picking one of the bracelets from the pile, she swung it like a hoop. “Bet he’s got long hair and a face that could cut glass.”
She’d only been teasing. But the instant my throat bobbed, Aspen ceased toying with the bauble. Her head panned to Briar, who studied me gingerly. Because they had witnessed the quarrel between me and Jeryn, they wavered, uncertain if I wanted to talk about my connection to the prince.
My quill shook across the parchment, the question meant for Briar. When did you know?
The princess’s eyes gleamed. Her freckles darkened along with her blush, but she did nothing to contain the smile stretching across her face. Passion filled her voice like an ocean—deep and eternal—as her gaze became remote, diving into unseen memories.
“I desired Poet when I first saw him dance.” A rueful chuckle slipped from her mouth. “Though, I would have never admitted it. But that desire only grew with every moment in his presence—an orchid garden, a hidden cottage, a night when we crossed paths in the kitchen, when I nearly succumbed to that yearning.”
For a moment, she whispered to herself more than to anyone else. “If he’d struck that water glass from my hand and hauled me forward, I wouldn’t have stopped him.”
Briar flushed anew, remembering Aspen’s presence. “I admired Poet when I met his son. I melted for him when we first kissed in the mud.”
“I’m sorry,” Aspen interrupted, raising her hand. “Did you say, in the mud?”
After we finished chuckling, Briar marveled, “I yearned for Poet every second after that, whenever he shocked me, inspired me, empowered me, seduced me, provoked me, infuriated me, touched me. I fell in love when I hurt him. I fell in love when I lost him. I fell in love when we were in jail. I fell in love when we were free again. I fell in love more than once, repeatedly, constantly.” She traced her ribbon bracelet, her irises swirling with heat and devotion. “And one night in a forest, that love became unbreakable.”
From the depth of her voice alone, I knew what had happened. It was the same turbulent thing that had erupted between me and Jeryn in the ocean. I wondered if Briar would have conveyed more about that night with Poet, had Aspen not been listening.
The princess turned to me. “You will have that too. If you don’t already.”
The truth stung my throat. I couldn’t write this down, couldn’t make it permanent.
But it came out anyway. “It will end.”
If my voice were audible to them, they would have heard it splinter. Jeryn would leave when he was prepared. This would end, and we would go our separate ways, doing what we could for this world.
The knowledge lanced through me like a spike. It had been easier when we’d been resisting our attraction and our feelings. It had been easier to hate him, easier to feel hostile pain. But after what happened in that celestial ocean, this type of hurt was far worse.
Although I’d spoken the words, Briar’s features twisted, and Aspen stepped closer. Either they had managed to read my lips, or they simply related to loss and heartbreak and things that couldn’t be, no matter how much we wanted them.
Briar ducked her head, prompting me to look at her. In those earnest features, I beheld not just a leader who reigned, but a woman who cared. “My father once told me that we can’t help who enters our hearts. To deny that would be to deny our truest self. However, I didn’t understand what he meant until Poet.” Thoughts of the jester stoked her irises like kindling. “It can be infuriating, terrifying, and agonizing at times.” Then her mouth tipped into a smile, and every scorching emotion in existence fueled her words. “But it also yields the most profound emotions you’ll ever know.”
And I was happy for her. But the tiny dent in my own heart didn’t promise the same fate. After the lightning rainstorm, we’d been disgusted with ourselves. After the medical chamber, we felt guilty. But in the raging sea, we surrendered. The prince and I gave in to something transcendent. By clawing at each other, we clawed our way through scorn and lust, breaching another barrier.
Months ago, I had wanted to drown that man. But now my longings were scattered all over this rainforest, cast in too many directions to forge one path. I didn’t love him. Yet I burned like a flame, and I ached like a flesh wound.
The feelings roped around my stomach, even as I shook my head and wrote, He’s leaving.
“He is not gone yet,” the princess reminded me. “I know what it feels like to have limited time—an hourglass draining, with no means to stop it. But it’s worth taking advantage of that time. To seize it with both hands.” Her expression lightened. “And who knows? Perhaps it will last longer than either of you expect.”
Not everyone is Poet of Spring and Briar of Autumn , I scripted.
“They shouldn’t be,” she affirmed. “Every passion is different. That makes this world diverse.” She took my free hand in hers. “And that’s what we’re fighting for.”
The knot in my stomach loosened. The mood lifted, with Aspen parading around the room, nonchalantly gliding her fingers over the robes, nightgowns, dresses, and trousers. “I mean, with all the fuck-me looks passing between you two, it seems like you’re having a ton of fun with each other. Secluded in this hot forest with a gorgeous prince who looks like that? Why stop now?”
I penned a response and held up the paper. He’s cold, actually.
“Even better,” the girl replied, batting her lashes in exaggeration. “You get to thaw him.”
I laughed. This girl could cut down a warrior one moment, then banter or flirt the next, her boldness infused with a dose of feminine moxie. Someday, she would sashay through a room with the same finesse she used in wielding that axe.
All the same, Briar groaned. “Your mother shall have my head.”
Aspen’s shoulders hunched. “My mother won’t notice,” she mumbled, then sought to rectify the comment when we frowned at her. “Oh, she’s a good person. But she’s not … she’s unwell.”
“You know, you can tell us,” Briar coaxed, indicating they’d had this conversation before.
But Aspen waved her hand. “Anyway, you’re one to talk, Highness. You and the jester only need to glance at one another, and the room becomes a smut scene.”
The princess cleared her throat. “Poet has been teaching you too many phrases.”
“The hell, he has. I don’t need a man to teach me anything.” With pride, she jabbed a thumb at her mouth. “This tongue is all mine.”
“And with the number of fibs you tell, it’s going to get you into trouble someday.”
The girl patted the axe squatting on her hip. “That’s what this is for.” Her eyes wandered toward a blushing pink bustier attached to a crimped skirt, which dangled from a rack. “That sure is pretty.”
We followed her gaze toward the dress. I beamed, set down the writing materials, and pranced to the garment. Plucking it from the collection, I held it aloft and shook the hanger in invitation.
“Yes,” Briar exclaimed. “Tailored to your measurements, it would look lovely on you.”
We guessed, at least. It was hard to tell with the girl concealed.
Temptation lit Aspen’s eyes. Yet the moment was fleeting. We might as well have bade the girl to approach a booby trap. The confidence we’d witnessed moments ago deflated, shyness causing her to retreat a step.
“I don’t think so,” she muttered, fidgeting with her hood. “I’d much rather see that armory crypt again. Any chance we can revisit it before that surly knight gets there and hogs up the goods?”
I set down the dress and retrieved my writing instruments. You have a kinship with weapons.
“I like seeing how weapons are made,” she answered. “I forged my axe myself.”
“Aspen, you never told us that.” Briar smiled and gestured to the weapon. “It’s extraordinary. Are you telling me we have a prodigy in our midst?”
The girl’s posture straightened. “Prodigies are under ten, but I’m thirteen.” She patted one curvy hip. “It’ll be more obvious soon. I’ve filled out nicely already.”
“Indeed, you have. For the longest time, Poet and I thought you were a bit younger, but over the last few months, that assumption changed. You’re growing taller every day.” The corners of Briar’s mouth lifted. “Nonetheless, it’s a remarkable age to perfect such craftsmanship.”
From inside the hood, Aspen’s skin appeared to flush. “Which is why I’d rather try on weapons than dresses.”
“Or you can do both,” the princess improvised, sensing the girl’s interest as much as I did.
I set down the paper and quill, then padded toward Aspen. She flinched but didn’t pull back when I traced a finger along her knuckles, each one strewn with a pattern akin to wood grain, entwined with leaves and brambles and petals. It resembled ink, yet it wasn’t. The enigma sank deeper, trenching through her as if she’d inherited it from the land.
“You wear nature on your skin,” I whispered. “How lucky to be blessed with this gift.”
Despite my moving lips, Aspen somehow understood the compliment. In the future, her body would grow more enhanced, accompanied by the promise of a smoky voice, if I detected her vocal cords right. She would be stunning, with her ample form covered in foliage. By then, hopefully this girl wouldn’t hide.
Beneath that hood, two hazel irises glinted. A tail of crimped hair flopped down her chest. If she pulled back the vestment, I had the feeling she would take our breaths away.
Aspen hedged, her attention flitting to the array of clothing. “Is that what boys like? Or … men? Do they want beauty?”
Briar strode forward. “They want strength. They want intelligence.”
I collected my writing tools and wrote, Beauty is merely a first impression. Passion comes from someplace deeper, and it lasts longer.
Aspen made a valiant effort to conceal her enthusiasm. “Fine, but maybe …” She motioned toward a silver dress. “Maybe that one.”
The polished material flashed like the edge of her axe. At her age, it would need to be altered, but the girl refused. “Nah. I’ll grow into it later.”
Yes, she would.
Briar clapped her hands once and feigned an industrious expression. “Now then. As it is, my three ladies are going to flay me for not bringing any souvenirs back from this cellar. But we had best make haste before my fashion-victim husband gets here and claims everything for himself.”
Earlier that night, I had climaxed in the arms of a villain prince. This clan had weathered a long journey and an arduous roundtable.
We should be exhausted. Yet we spent the next hour exploring the textile cellar. Under her vestment, Aspen shimmied into the oversized dress, then discovered a plume among the jewels—something she could use to embellish a hat back home. The three of us tried on clothes, dressing one another and filling the cellar with laughter.
***
We traveled down the corridor with our chosen booty when a draft rustled Aspen’s cloak, and muffled male voices drifted from an area Jeryn and I hadn’t yet shown our guests.
Setting down the sacks of clothing we’d filled, the females trailed me toward the noise. The alcove’s rolling door stood open. Descending the steps, we found the men tarrying with torchlights in their fists, the flames tossing orange across the catacomb.
The knight, jester, and prince wheeled our way as we entered. The prince’s face cut straight to mine. He took a step toward me, then halted as if about to step on glass. He wanted to stride my way, to see if I was okay, the impulse written all over him. But he wasn’t sure if I wanted that.
I did. My body wanted it so much, the craving itched across my flesh, and my feet pricked with the urge to jump on him. I longed for whatever this miraculous thing was, as much as I feared losing it. But if I gave this man leave to come near me, I might not recover when it ended.
Briar’s gaze jumped across the sunken crypt. “This was never part of the legend.”
Aspen gave a dazed whistle. “Not something you see every day.”
“Aire was having a moment,” Poet explained, sauntering to his wife, taking her hand, and guiding her deeper. “One of his senses got a second wind.”
“Since then, he’s been muttering nonsense,” Jeryn groused, reluctantly prying his gaze from mine.
The knight glanced about, his handsome features introspective. “There was a quarrel in this room between family members.” His eyes flashed. “Another time, a forbidden tryst between lovers.”
Poet described how Aire had been analyzing every room they’d passed on the way here. The knight had philosophized about who’d lived in which chamber, what they had been feeling or experiencing in a given moment, and what had occurred in different rooms. A debate between warriors. Children playing and climbing trees. Residents building these walls and hunting in packs. Aire didn’t know all the details, but he felt the essence of them, as if the former dwellers had left their fingerprints behind.
Only one person in this room scoffed at the notion. But Jeryn withheld further judgment and said, “I believe they were eradicated by—”
“A virus,” Aire finished. “They were slain by a virus.”
Jeryn’s eyebrows pinched together. He crossed his arms like a stubborn scientist. “Lucky guess.”
We glanced about, paying homage to the fallen. Carefully, we disbanded and ambled through the tomb, identifying more ancients.
One of them lured me nearer. Because we had been here only once, the prince and I hadn’t noticed half of the people resting throughout the space.
In one of the compartments lay a skeleton wearing a topaz belt. I waved Jeryn over and pointed. “This one,” I said when he approached.
His concentrated gaze narrowed, seeing what I did. “A born soul.”
Before historical propaganda about born souls had spread, some of them had been highly ranked for their extraordinary minds. Those who were, had been given these precious belts. At least, in Summer that had been the case.
“They’re not the only one,” Poet murmured, looming beside another cell where a small body donned the same grand accessory.
Our clan scouted through the hollow, torchlights rippling across the crusted walls. We found more born souls among the humans, faeries, nymphs, and other figures. Jeryn searched for signs of enslavement but found none. Although this wasn’t a surprise given our continental history, it did confirm the tales. Before born souls were persecuted, everyone lived freely. This catacomb proved they’d done so in peace, without a hierarchy.
“They resided here as equals,” Aire reminisced. “I sense as much.”
My lips peeled into a wistful smile. “And look what they made.”
After Jeryn translated my words, Poet intoned, “A castle that has withstood centuries in a rainforest.”
“And functioned soundly,” Jeryn appraised. “It is a valid point. These ruins were built to last, despite environmental hazards.”
“So this society got along fine,” Aspen concluded.
“More than that,” Poet said. “They thrived.”
“The Seasons could not refute such evidence,” Briar insisted. “Poet and I have gained headway making the same case with The Lost Treehouses.” The princess spun my way, reading my thoughts. “This could be what you’ve been looking for.”
My heart clattered. The key to my purpose. I had found it.