Ink of Copper

42. In Which Our Heroine Begins to Let Go

Chapter 42

In Which Our Heroine Begins to Let Go

Meadows on the Hills of Asteria

T he days had passed in rapid succession. So fast, in fact, that they were beginning to blur together. Every morning, Maximus would rudely knock on her door at some ungodly hour, asking her to meet him in the training room. Despite being annoyed, she would go. He helped her improve her few self-defense skills and was teaching her strategy, something she appreciated. He would have made a fine general, as his mind was clearly made for war. His stoic demeanor came to life as he instructed her on the numerous ways to kill a man. The comradery building between them felt natural.

Camulos had taught her a few ways to wield her magic, but most days, he spent poring over the Book of Pandora, searching for the spell they needed. That left her with lots of time to read from the many books in Evander’s private library. It gave her a tiny thrill every afternoon to find he left her a new title he thought she would enjoy on the sideboard.

After the evening meal, they’d all sit around the dining table and the men would regale them with accounts of their former lives and wars past. Liam would inevitably take over the storytelling and, by the end, have her laughing hard enough to add color and tears to her cheeks. The men teased each other, throwing quips and jokes equally. She had almost grown accustomed to their impressive size, feathered plumage, and unique personalities. Evander remained in his human form, and she wasn’t sure if it was for her comfort or his. After several rounds of dominoes, of which Evander was still the worse player, he would walk her to her bedchamber door and lean down to place one gentle kiss on her forehead.

“Good night, Ellie,” he’d say in that accent that was like honey to her ears. Last night, she had grasped his tunic before he pulled himself back up to full height and stared up at him.

“Don’t you want to come in?”

He glanced at the wooden door, his gaze following the swirls in the grain. When his eyes swung back to hers, the heated look stole her breath.

“Yes.”

Her eyebrows jogged up her forehead, rising in hopeful anticipation. Gently, he pried her fingers from his tunic and brought them to his lips. His kiss scorched her knuckles.

“Good night, Ellie.” His husky whisper sent a tingle through her. When he closed his eyes, the pained expression darkened the planes of his face before he turned around and started across the library to his chamber.

“Please.”

He paused and looked over his shoulder, both hands in fists at his side. “Good night, Ellie.”

She grumbled and entered her chamber.

And so, her annoyance at Camulos, who had convinced her to meet him at this unholy hour this morning, felt warranted. That and the fact she had walked what felt like a mile when she finally caught sight of him did nothing to improve her mood. The sky above them burst with warm pinks and yellows, soft blues, and deep purples as the sun slowly blinked awake.

“What lessons are we learning today, Cam, that I had to trek out here so early?” she whined as she made her way up the hill to where Camulos stood.

He grinned at her as she climbed. “Morning.” He waved brightly.

It should be perfectly acceptable to shoot morning people.

“Isn’t it beautiful this morning?”

“My feet are wet,” she complained as they both looked down at her dew-soaked shoes. “What lessons are we learning today?” she repeated.

“We?” he asked, distracted. “There is no we today. It will only be you and I.” He turned, breached the hill, and started down the other side.

“That’s still we , Cam,” she called to his retreating form. “So, we aren’t staying here?”

“Come along, Ellie,” he called over his shoulder as she groaned but followed.

Camulos turned and eyed her momentarily when they reached the bottom, curiosity scrawling across his face.

“What?”

Wordlessly, he flicked his wrist, and an electric charge surged through her; everything around them hummed excitedly. Dust particles caught in the streams of sunlight peaking from the clouds spun in tight circles. They spread out, spinning wider until the world before her buzzed alive.

His face softened as he watched her; the exchange of energy and magic swirled around them like a spring breeze. Camulos winked, turned, and marched into the woods before them, forcing her to follow. She had so many questions she wanted to ask, but the forest that swallowed them up as they walked took most of her attention.

The air smelled crisp, like pines and earth, as she traipsed several steps behind Camulos and marveled at her surroundings. When she was young, she found peace whenever she ventured into the woods on her family’s ranch. Something about the quiet and stillness, nature, and life surrounding her put her troubled mind at rest. Moss and leaves littered the ground along the path. Sunlight danced between the leaves and spilled in beams onto the forest floor. Vines and branches hung low. Ferns shot up from the ground, their dark-green leaves unfurling towards streams of light. Life hummed in all forms, creating a chorus of joy. Birds chirped merrily in the trees, insects buzzed, and animals called to one another; all of it made a hum of calming noise. She breathed in deeply, smiling as some of the tension she had been feeling seemed to melt away. The forest was where she felt at ease, no matter where the forest seemed to be. It was like she was stepping back into a place she knew well, like revisiting an old friend.

A cloud crossed the sun, and a light beam illuminated a flower along the path. Ellie stopped to admire the beauty. The bright-green stalk had clusters of white, star-shaped flowers jutting out as they encircled a green column climbing up the stem. It had a rich, sweet smell that lingered in the air, heavy and intoxicating, like honeysuckle. Camulos kept his steady forward trajectory, so, not wanting to get lost in a forest on Olympus, she sighed as she left the beautiful flower and scurried after him.

“So, where are we going?” she asked as she tripped over a fallen log in the midst of the pathway.

They had been walking for almost an hour, and Ellie’s attempt to engage him was met with stony silence.

“You know, telling me wouldn’t be the worst idea you’ve had,” she huffed from behind.

He turned to say something over his shoulder but decided against it and continued. She blew air through her nose and stopped to admire another flower along their path. If he insisted on walking in silence, she would insist on slowing their pace so she could take in the magical beauty all around them.

“I wish I knew how to draw.” She sighed dreamily as she sniffed the floral-scented breeze. “I’d love to capture this beauty.”

He paused. “You don’t draw?”

“No,” she replied, preoccupied with studying the petals. “I’ve always wanted to learn, but I never have.”

“But your weaving? You weave so beautifully, with such skill and precision.”

She glanced up, met with an odd expression she couldn’t place. “Well, yes, I suppose; it’s not quite the same. But it helps me relax and gives my fingers something to do when I’m nervous—which I frequently am.”

Camulos pursed his lips and softened his ordinarily stern expression. “Don’t sell yourself short, Ellie. Weaving is an art, and you are very skilled.”

They shared a smile before she turned back to look at the flower. Her head down, eyes fixated on the flower’s petals, she was about to ask if he knew what type the flower might be when she heard a buzzing noise above her. It came close to her ear, zipping behind her, and, making a sharp turn, came back. The insect landed on a nearby shrub leaf under the giant trees offering shade. She hurried over to get a better look. As she neared the plant, she realized the buzzing wasn’t an insect but a tiny person. The woman had bright-purple wings that faded to white at the bottom, coming to a point. They were gossamer and dainty in structure but moved incredibly fast, like a hummingbird. The wings fluttered as the woman studied Ellie, studying her. She wore a simple but delicate dress that seemed to swish around her on a breeze only she could feel. Watching Ellie for a few moments, she cocked her head to the side as if she suddenly decided something and, with a tiny leap into the air, flew off at an incredible speed.

“Oh my gosh!” she gushed in delight. “Did you see that? That little thing was a—”

“A pixie? Yes,” Camulos said matter-of-factly.

“You don’t sound impressed.”

He shrugged. “Nymphs, pixies, and centaurs are all part of my world, Ellie. Soon, you will find them as ordinary as I do. Come along; we haven’t all day.”

After crossing a stream that seemed to babble something she couldn’t quite make out, they came to a small clearing. Trees encircled the meadow, and the forest seemed kept at bay by bark-covered soldiers. The sunlight poured into the meadow, golden fingers of light bursting through the tree cover. As if, in this particular part of Olympus, the forest would always be cast in the perfect golden hour. That magical time right before sundown when the sky turned a brilliant shade of gold and transformed the world into a fairy-like existence. Camulos hadn’t spoken for hours, even after Ellie asked several times if they were close to where they were going. He plodded along as if he were unable or unwilling to hear her.

“It’s beautiful, no?” His rich timbre jolted her out of her thoughts.

She stumbled forward. “Um . . .” she stuttered. “Yes, yes, it is.”

He stopped inside the tree line and waited for her to catch up. They stood side by side and took in the beauty of the meadow cast in that beautiful golden light.

“Where are we, Cam?” she asked for the umpteenth time.

“Home.” He sighed and headed to a small stone cottage on the far edge.

“Whose home?” she asked as she noisily crashed through the tree line and into the meadow, following him.

As they approached the stone house, she noticed how intricate it was in its simplicity. It had a well-thatched and securely tied roof. The stones were stacked neatly, and every crack tightly filled with sand, gravel, and mud to make the home watertight. The windows had glass panes that distorted the inside from the casual onlooker with a wavy view. Where Maximus’ home would have been more in place on a hillside in Italy, modest cabin was more appropriate in this clearing in the forest. The cottage had a lean-to attached to the front, creating a small but cozy porch with an intricately carved wooden door. An impressive forged-iron handle sat on one side of the door while iron hinges graced the opposite. As they reached the entrance, he ducked under the porch’s roof, tucking his wings tightly behind him. The door swung silently, and he entered and vanished. Ellie paused.

The middle of the iron handle was silver, rubbed clean from repeated use, while the rest remained black. She stood just under the porch covering, admiring the carvings. Beautiful and intricate, they depicted scenes that told a story. Starting at the top left were carvings of deer and bears, nymphs and pixies, arrows and fires that reached high into the woodgrain sky. She smoothed a hand over the carvings, her fingers following the ridges and valleys, dancing along the door’s elaborate narrative. The bottom half of the door was left blank, the story not entirely done. Each carving was so well made and complex that it felt alive.

“Ellie,” Camulos’ voice called from within.

She jumped at her name and scampered inside. Standing inside the doorway, she took in the cozy scene before her. The cabin was modest but clean and smelled dry, spotless, and orderly. A small table and two wooden chairs were in one corner, a small bed in another, and a ladder led up to a loft above them. A freshly picked pitcher of flowers sat in the center of the table. The large stone fireplace took over one wall, with a fire already lit, giving the home a warm feel and bathing it in an orange light.

“This is your home?” She looked around in awe.

He removed the short cloak he wore and hung it on a hook in the corner just inside the room.

“Yes,” he said with a contented sigh.

“It’s lovely and all, Cam, but how long are we planning on being here?”

She eyed the one bed. His gaze followed hers, and for a moment, she was sure reserved and calm Camulos blushed.

“Oh my!” he said in a rush. “No, none of that. I needed to bring you to where you could learn to wield your magic in a place where your type flows freely. I can teach you here, but I also assumed, since you are a gaiamancer, that a forest would be the most calming for you. No one will disturb us. Plus”—he crossed to the kitchen and pulled a pie from a cabinet—“there’s pie.”

Ellie didn’t ask any more questions, even though the first item on the list was the pie. She eagerly wanted to know how the pie ended up freshly made, warm, and waiting for them in an empty cabin. When they had eaten and drank their fill, he rose from the table and headed back outside. His wordless demeanor, something she had grown accustomed to on the ship, was annoying when she had no less than one million questions to ask. She reluctantly followed him into the meadow.

“I want you to close your eyes, Ellie,” Camulos began, sweeping his hands to the surrounding meadow. “Close your eyes and tell me what you feel.”

“Feel?” she asked skeptically. “Wouldn’t you want to know what I hear? How does closing my eyes make me feel—”

He cut her off with the clearing of his throat. “Close your eyes. The first lesson to controlling your power is to calm your mind.”

She obliged but opened them with an exasperated sigh after a few seconds. “I feel nothing.”

“Try again.”

Taking a deep breath, she closed them once again and felt nothing. Nothing but annoyance, her head buzzing with questions.

You can’t control it. You need to keep it hidden. Penn’s words echoed through her.

“Take a deep breath.”

Filling her lungs with air, she could feel the moment the air changed. Or at least she thought it changed. It was like a spark blazing forth and dying immediately, so small she couldn’t be sure.

“What do you feel?”

She wiggled her shoulders, planting her shoes into the earth. Birds chirped from high in the trees all around. The calling of a frog came from somewhere behind them. The sound of the wind rustling the leaves and tall grass she stood in. Focusing her concentration on what she could feel, she screwed her eyes shut. The only thing she could feel was frustration. Clenching her fists, she huffed out a breath, then another.

“Relax, Ellie.” His words came from beside her. “Feel.”

Her shoulders ached, along with her jaw, and she was sure her fingernails left half-moons in her palms.

You’re out of control.

The surrounding wind picked up, moving between them with increasing speed. She tried to concentrate on feeling something, anything.

Stop! Stop! You are going to hurt someone.

The birds chattered their calls to each other faster and with more urgency. She clenched her jaw, her teeth grinding together. The sound of a door slamming shut rattled in her mind.

You’ll stay in there until I let you out.

She couldn’t feel anything but fear. Fear that her magic would consume her. She knew she would lose control, and out here, amongst the trees, her magic could burn through the forest. Two firm hands gripped either shoulder and gave her a gentle but adamant shake.

“Stop.” Camulos gave her another shake as she opened her eyes.

The meadow they stood in was plunged into gray light, causing shadows to grow long. Above them, a storm cloud had appeared and was floating just over the house, looking as though it would rain on them at any minute. The birds around them frantically called to one another as birds do before a storm.

“You are letting your emotions control your power. You’ve been told for so long that this gift you possess needs to be hidden. Now’s the time to bring it to the light.”

Agitated, she threw her hands in the air. “I hurt people, Camulos,” she shouted at him, clenching her fists. “I scared my parents, my friends, Penn. I burned down a barn, almost burned our home. I had to be controlled. Contained. I’m a menace.”

The storm cloud overhead turned darker; thunder cracked overhead.

“Ellie, you’re not dangerous.”

“I am!” Her voice rose louder. “I’m a danger to anyone that gets close to me.”

“You aren’t a danger,” he insisted, being the beacon of calm she needed in this raging storm.

“Did you not see my room on the ship? The training room? This magic needs to be contained. I hate it. I hate what it does to me,” she yelled at him as the surrounding storm gathered, plunging the meadow into darkness. She was growing hot as she shouted, her palms burning, waiting to release power that could destroy.

“You fear yourself and what you’re capable of. You need to let go. This magic is a gift, not a curse. If you could relax, you’d see that.”

“Relax? Relax . Sure. I’ll just relax because hanging out in the woods in a fictional place is totally normal. I mean, no big deal, right? For years, I have been desperately clinging to scraps of calm, clawing my way out of the cage I’ve been locked in.”

Grinding her teeth hard enough she thought for sure one would crack, she glared at him. She wanted to cry or rail or scream. Anything but feel.

Standing before her, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply. His shoulders dropped, and his face relaxed. He towered over Ellie, but his foreboding presence seemed to diminish the calmer he became. When he opened his eyes, his battle-worn face had softened, and there was a light that gleamed from within. He reached out his hand, and flowers sprung up in front of them.

“This isn’t something to fear,” he began with all the gusto of an aged mystic. “All around us is energy. Magical energy. You can pull from it, harness it, use it to create.” With the flick of his wrist, more flowers burst out of the ground. “You can learn to control this magic with accuracy.” He pointed to one spot in the meadow, and a bush sprung up. “This isn’t about controlling emotions so much as it is bending the elements to your will by tapping into the gaia and allowing the power to flow through you.”

As he spoke, the small brook just beyond the tree line changed its course and trickled into the meadow past them. The water surrounding them splashed onto her shoes.

“When you fight against your natural talent to use this type of magic, you fight against yourself. When you fight against what you were made to do, it gives you headaches and memory loss. So worried that you will become dangerous, you don’t allow the magic to flow through you. You aren’t a danger, Ellie. Some of us are born curators of the arcane, but others can wield it. You, my dear, can wield it. You may be the most powerful gaiamancer I have ever encountered. There is so much power within you.”

He moved his hand, and the golden light grew brighter, dancing across the meadow as if time was being manipulated. Ellie stood wide eyed, watching Camulos bend the world around him.

“What are you?” Her admiration was apparent, but Camulos, as always, said nothing.

She wanted the calm that seemed to flow from him, the peace with the world he could bend to his liking. Closing her eyes, she quickly opened them when she had a thought. The water from the brook had split just before her, making her an island of chaos in the middle of a softly babbling calm. Stopping to unbuckle her shoes, she dipped one foot into each side of the running water. Mimicking him, she closed her eyes and felt the coolness of the water, the gentle caress of the flow as it ran over her bare feet. The grass lay down, and she scrunched her toes into the spongy earth. The smell of fresh water filled her nose—that crisp, musk smell she always thought was a cross between fish and algae. She listened to the birds chirping happily, calling out in song. The hair on her arms stood up on end as if someone had passed over them with a balloon. Digging her toes further into the ground, now made soft by the water, she could feel the balance shifting, the earth opening her secrets. The world vibrated as her magic began to flow, unencumbered, unbothered, much like the brook.

“Think of something meaningful, Ellie.” Camulos’ voice came from her side. “A memory or a person. Ground yourself. Before you can begin to bend the gaia, you need to create a grounding.”

Images flashed in her mind like a slideshow. Images of her mother’s smile, her father laughing, riding his horse. The smell of the barn filled with fresh hay. Friends’ giggles as they swung on a rope, flying through the air, and landing in the hay pile. The images slid past one another, flooding her with happy memories. Her days at school, graduation, college.

Penn. An image of Penn ignoring her, yelling at her, frightened of her. She froze. Her back stiffened, and she tensed up. More images of him shoving her into the room he designed—for her protection. Images of him on their couch, trying to be gentle but roughly grabbing at her, forcing her back. His voice rang in her head, harsh and abrupt.

“Whatever memory that is, Ellie, it needs to be removed. It’s too painful, too raw. Move the hurt and pain out through your body and your toes. Let the flow of the water take that memory away. Think of something else; remember, ground yourself. Fear and anger are emotions, but you can’t let them consume you.” He touched her shoulder as he spoke.

Calm flowed through her. Instead of fighting against the fear that rose in her at the sight of Penn’s wide eyes when she set fire to their living room, she let it flow through her. Her loveless marriage left a hole deep inside her that was lonely and dark. For years, she had felt unworthy of love, out of reach of anything but cold affection—obligation over passion for over a decade. The darkness surrounded her, but she let it in. Welcomed it. Pulling the shroud of books and isolation she kept herself in like a blanket.

She could feel the sun warming her skin, dancing across her arms as if beckoning her from the dark. Lifting her head to the sky, she felt the sun caress her cheeks and kiss her forehead and nose as Evander had done. His face, smiling at her, laughing with her, never at her. His large able hands holding her like she was precious. Caressing her jaw, tangling themselves in her hair, securing her next to him as she fell apart. His arms around her as she raged, never afraid, never leaving. She could almost see him before her, feel his warmth, and hear the aristocratic rhythm of his words. Her soul called to him. The sun shone brighter, warming the world around her. The air around them shifted, coming alive.

“Evander.”

She breathed his name like a prayer, a talisman holding her fragile parts. Her eyes fluttered open to a brand-new world. Around her, in a perfect circle, were little red-capped mushrooms. Upon those mushrooms, pixies pirouetted and fluttered about. Butterflies and bees, dancing on glistening wings, welcomed her to their world. Golden rays of sunshine moved along the meadow, illuminating the fairy rings she had created. The grass waved joyously in the soft breeze at her as if saying hello to an old friend. While Camulos had added a few flowers, Ellie had turned the meadow into a sea of white and yellow daisies.

She felt her senses heightening to the world she could now see. Her hearing caught the distinct notes of the birds. The brook’s babble became words to a song she could sing. In the sunbeams, she saw dancing nymphs in soft white dresses fluttering about. Camulos stood beside her in all his glory. His wings were a golden mahogany, rising high above his head. Two horns arched overhead, ivory colored, tipped in gold. He wore a tunic under the leather hoplites armor, a sword strapped to his side, ready for battle. His hair was longer, one side braided over his pointed ear tipped in a gold weaving. He looked regal as he stood smiling at her, pride shining in his face. Upon his head lay a golden crown of briars and arrows woven together. This time, she didn’t flinch at his true self. Her gaze traveled over him in awe until something at the corner of the tree line moved, and she quickly whipped her head around to see.

“Evander,” she gasped, effectively breaking the spell.

“What the hell are you doing here, Evander?” Camulos shouted.

She couldn’t control the smile that erupted across her face at the sight of him standing just beyond the shadows at the edge of the clearing. He walked towards them, his white wings radiating in the golden sun, his ivory horns arched overhead, emitting their own light. The leather thongs held his swords crossed along his chest, his arm strapped to him. His armor was battle ready and worn. Once he reached them, he nodded his head at Camulos.

“Good to see you too, Cam.”

“You aren’t supposed to be here.” His words came out in a huff of annoyance.

But Evander didn’t apologize, nor did he explain. He simply gazed at Ellie in wonderment, cocking his head to the side.

“I watched you do all this,” he said softly, sweeping his arms wide. “You are incredible.”

Reaching out, he touched her cheek in a soft caress. Ellie closed her eyes at the contact. When she opened them, he was staring down at her with such admiration that she blushed and cleared her throat, quickly removing her cheek from his palm.

Camulos crossed his arms over his chest. “Evander, you shouldn’t be here. You will be a distraction, and Ellie needs to learn all she can.”

“It’s okay, Camulos.” She nodded as she spoke. “I feel grounded, whole. I want to learn.” She gave a curt nod in determination.

Camulos gave one back and pointed his chin over his shoulder at Evander, indicating he move out of their way.

A man of few words indeed.

“Okay, let’s get started.”