Chapter 13 #2
He handed them to us. The flowers were crooked, some stems bent, already losing petals. Perfect.
I put mine on. “Thank you, baby.”
Mal put his on too. “Very powerful protection.”
Killian giggled. “You look silly, Papa.”
“I am magical now,” Mal replied seriously.
One more hug. One more kiss. Then we stepped back toward the entrance before I could change my mind. We turned to wave. Killian waved back, already distracted by Krystin asking about cookie decorations.
The portal shimmered as we stepped through.
Back in Lytopia, the empty hallway felt too silent. I stared back at the portal, knowing Killian was safe on the other side.
Mal’s fingers intertwined with mine. “He is safe.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
“Let’s find Tyreen and end this, so we can get him back.”
We walked together toward our chambers.
***
That evening, we packed the final items. I moved around our bedroom folding travel clothes, organizing herbs. Healing herbs for injuries, wrapped carefully in cloth. Energy boosters for long days, ground into powder. The blend Casimya had given me for headaches, bitter but effective.
Mal was on the other side of the room with his weapons. I watched him test a blade’s edge, satisfied with its sharpness, then move to the next one. The whetstone made soft scraping sounds against metal.
“That’s a lot of sharp objects,” I observed.
“I like to be prepared.”
“For what, an army?”
“Yes.”
I walked over and looked at his collection spread across the bed. Swords, daggers, throwing knives. And at the end, his favorite axe with the carved handle.
“You’re bringing your murder axe?”
He paused. “It is not a murder axe, it’s just...” He trailed off.
“You literally call it your murder axe.”
He paused, caught between sheepish and defiant. “Yes.”
I laughed despite my anxiety. We worked in comfortable silence after that, moving around each other with practiced ease. He handed me a pouch for my herbs before I could ask. I adjusted a loose strap on his armor without him mentioning it. Wordless teamwork, built over years of partnership.
Eventually, we climbed into bed and he pulled me close.
We lay face to face, his hand on my cheek, mine over his heart.
“What if this doesn’t work?” I asked quietly. “What if Tyreen can’t help?”
“Then we find another way.”
“What if there is no other way?”
“There is always another way. We will find it. Together.”
I was silent for a moment, then I admitted it. “I’m scared.”
“Of the journey?”
“Of failing him. Killian. What if we can’t protect him?”
Mal pulled me closer. “We will. Whatever it takes. No one touches our son.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. We will come back to him. All of us.”
I pressed my face against his chest. “I love you.”
“I love you. More than yesterday. Less than tomorrow.”
I groaned. “That’s cheesy. But against my better judgment, I love it.”
We fell asleep tangled together.
***
Dawn came too early, pale light creeping through the windows.
I dressed in travel clothes. Practical pants, a tunic that wouldn’t snag on branches, comfortable boots broken in from years of use. I pulled my hair back tight with my scrunchies I’d brought from Earth because I absolutely despised the leather straps they used here.
Mal dressed in similar clothes with light armor underneath. The metal gleamed dully in the morning light as he moved, checking buckles and straps.
I looked around our chambers one last time, trying to memorize every detail. The bed we shared. The wardrobe where our clothes hung together. The small table where Killian liked to draw. Not sure when we’d be back. Not sure what we’d face in those woods.
Mal offered his hand, his face serious but determined. “Ready?”
I took it, adjusting Killian’s wilted flower crown on my head with my free hand. The petals were drooping but I wasn’t taking it off. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“You are wearing the flower crown.”
“For protection. Obviously.”
He touched his own, sitting slightly crooked on his head. “I am wearing mine as well.”
“We look absurd.”
“We look powerful. Very intimidating flower crowns.”
We walked through the castle together, hand in hand, wearing wilted flower crowns and determined expressions.
Guards bowed as we passed, their faces carefully neutral.
If they thought the flower crowns were strange, they were smart enough not to comment.
One guard’s mouth twitched slightly, but he caught himself.
“Something amusing?” Mal asked mildly.
“No, Your Majesty. Very powerful protection, I am sure.”
“Extremely powerful,” I agreed. “My son made them.”
The guard’s face softened. “Then they are certainly magical, Your Majesty.”
Casimya waited in the courtyard with five guards. Our small expedition team.
“Ready?” Casimya asked.
I nodded. “Ready.”
She began setting up materials for the portal. I focused on the coordinates from the tracking spell, mixing it with Tyreen’s name repeated in my mind and the feeling of my own energy deep in my chest. Noctherion woods. Tyreen’s magical signature. I could almost feel it, a pull in my chest.
The portal began to form, shimmering in the air.
“Okay,” I said, stepping toward it. “Noctherion woods should be right through here.”
I stepped through confidently.
And sank ankle-deep in swamp water.
The mud squelched around my boots, cold and disgusting. The smell of stagnant water and rotting vegetation hit me like a wall.
“This is not woods,” Mal said dryly, his boots sinking beside me. He was ankle-deep in mud and somehow still managed to look dignified. Unfair.
I looked around at the marshy landscape. Reeds in clumps. Dark, still water. Somewhere distant, a frog croaked mockingly.
Casimya, still on the Lytopia side, looked distinctly unimpressed. Her expression said everything about what she thought of my portal accuracy.
“Fucking portals,” I muttered, trying to pull my boot free. It made a horrible sucking sound.
“Try again?” Mal suggested mildly. His boot made the same horrible sound when he moved.
“Definitely trying again. Unless you want to wade through swamp for three days.”
“I would prefer not to.”
We stepped back through the swamp portal. I closed the failed portal with more force than necessary. Deep breath. Focus. Feel the location, don’t just think about it. That’s what Casimya had been drilling into me for weeks.
I tried again, pouring my concentration into getting it right.
This time when the portal opened, I could see dense forest on the other side. Dark trees, thick underbrush, dappled sunlight filtering through leaves. Exactly what Noctherion woods should look like.
“That looks better,” I said with relief.
“Much better than swamp,” Mal agreed.
Casimya peered through critically. “It appears correct. The magical signature matches.”
Mal stepped through first, hand on his sword. Always protective, ready to face whatever danger might be waiting on the other side.
I followed, then Casimya, then the five guards in quick succession. Each of them moved through with weapons ready, spreading out to secure the perimeter as soon as they landed. Professional and efficient. Probably overkill for an empty clearing, but I appreciated the thoroughness.
We stood in a small clearing surrounded by ancient trees, their branches reaching toward each other overhead like old friends holding hands. The air was thick with moisture. Somewhere distant, a bird called out, the sound echoing through the forest.
Noctherion woods. Wild, dangerous, and somewhere in its depths, a witch who might have answers. Or might tell us to go to hell.
Either way, we were about to find out.
Mal reached for me, our fingers lacing together. “Ready?”
I squeezed his fingers. “As ready as I will ever be.”
We started walking into the forest, leaving the portal shimmering behind us.