Chapter 25
Chapter
Twenty-Five
TUCKER
There’s a thick log burning in the fireplace when I first arrive at Camilla’s house. I search every room in the house. Nobody is here, but someone has been recently. I don’t even know what I’m looking for.
I start in the bedroom, ripping through the bed with a jagged hunting knife.
I slice deep enough to scrape over metal coils and don’t stop until every bit is shredded.
I rip all of her clothes from the armoire and knock it over, landing with a thud.
The next stop on my tour of reggae is the kitchen, ripping it apart cabinet by cabinet.
A howl of wind whips against my back as the front door is thrown open.
“I told you not to follow me,” I scream. “You don’t fucking listen.”
“Tuck, listen to me,” Forest pleads, but he’s said enough. “This isn’t your fault.”
“You think I don’t fucking know that?” I throw a glass jar over his head.
It shatters against the door behind him.
“This is you trying to trick me into leaving this place. You were never going to stay.” I stumble sideways and lose my footing, the side of my body cracking against the corner of the table.
“You can’t have the best of both worlds.
You can’t have me and that life.” I point south.
“If you want out of here so bad, just fucking leave.”
He rushes forward, closing the distance between us. He tries to help me back to my feet, but I muster all the strength I can and push him away. I climb to my feet on my own accord and glare at him.
“Please just drink the water. It’ll clear your head and you’ll see the truth for what it is.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I scream. I grab him by the collar of his jacket and throw him against the door. “Get out of my face before I do something I regret.”
He swallows nervously. “You’re not going to hurt me.”
My teeth grind together, and the strength leaves my body. I loosen my grip on him and he does the rest. He breaks free from me. His chest heaves in the silence between us, but he’s never been one to know when to keep his mouth shut.
“I told you not to follow me.” I wipe the sweat from my brow. “Can you just leave me alone right now, please?”
“We’re in some serious shit, Tuck.”
“Stop!” I cover my ears with my hands. “Stop talking. Stop trying to convince me that everything I’ve known has been a lie.”
Since I was a young kid, my best friend has been the rage that lives within me.
In my loneliest moments, it’s been my only comfort.
It begins as a seed and then grows into a tree, and when it blooms, when there’s nowhere for it to go, it explodes.
It manifests itself in the destruction of things and people.
And then a new seed is planted, and the vicious cycle starts all over again.
I kick open the door to the apothecary room.
There are bottles, jars, and vials scattered about shelving units attached to the wall.
In the corner are crates filled with empty glassware.
In the middle, underneath a window with the curtains drawn, is a table with mixing bowls and alchemy tools.
I use my forearm to clear the table. Glass and ceramic dishes shatter on the floor.
Forest watches as I rip book after book from a bookshelf, piling them into my arm.
I leave him behind and toss them into the fireplace in the living room.
The flames grab the books from the bottom and pull the pages into the inferno, engulfing them in red heat. I grab another stack and burn them too.
When I storm back into the apothecary room, Forest is standing at the window with the curtain pulled to the side with one hand. I join him at his side and my stomach turns. I retch to the side, spitting up on the floor.
Zeva hangs from a tree on the edge of the forest, just outside the house. There’s a noose around her neck. Her face is pale and lifeless. Usually, there’d be a note on a piece of paper. Instead, the words The Wilds are Sick is painted in red over her white dress.
I back away from the window, settling on a new way to quench the rage.
I’m going to find this fucker.
Forest follows behind and manages to cut in front of me before I can open the front door. He steadies his hands in front of him, pleading. “You’re not in any condition to handle this. You need to drink the water.”
I cackle. “The water you claim is drugged. You want me to put that in my body. In what world does that make sense?”
“You’re suffering from withdrawals. It’s making you weak.”
I inch towards him, pressing my nose against his. “How do I know you didn’t hang her from that tree? It’s funny, none of this started until you showed back up.”
He pushes me with both hands, knocking me off balance. He pushes me again, and I collapse onto the floor.
The high and mighty chosen one of the Wilds towers over me. “I just knocked you down like a bowling pin.” He grabs the small jar from his coat pocket, twists the cap off, and hands it to me. “One last time to get through this night.”
My hand shakes. My grip is weak and I can hardly keep the jar in my hands. He’s right. I’m weaker than ever before. But if this is poison, I’m not willfully swallowing it. I toss the jar behind me. It lands somewhere and shatters.
He bites his tongue sighing so hard, to which I laugh as I rise to my feet. I storm back into the apothecary, grab a gallon of wildfire, and douse the entire room. Forest takes a measured step back when I exit the room, leaving a trail of the flammable substance all the way to the front door.
“You want to burn it all down?” I toss the bottle behind me and smirk. “I’m ready to play with fire.”
There’s no time to go back to the manor.
This ends now. I grab a hunting bow off the wall—the one that belonged to Camilla’s husband—and sling it over my shoulder.
I grab a quiver of arrows with a strap and pull it over my back.
Forest rotates on his feet as I push past him.
I reach into the left pocket of his jacket, grab his lighter, and rip open the front door.
He knows better than to stick around because if he stays inside, he’s going up in flames with Camilla’s house. The flame flickers on the first flick, and I toss it into the house. It ignites on contact, a fire ripping through the house. I kick the door closed and retreat towards the village.
My shadow doesn’t follow me though. I glance over my shoulder to find Forest staring at the house. Hot flames lick the inside of the windows, but there’s something else…
Written on the door in the same red as Zeva’s dress—whether it’s paint or blood, I don’t know—are the words: Meet me at the Sanctuary.
“No,” Forest says under his breath. “It’s a trap.”
“Leave,” I growl. “Now, and don’t come back.”
He turns to me, shaking his head defiantly. “I’m not leaving you.”
“You’re not in charge anymore. It’s just me and this thing I have to finish.”
“You’re too weak to go alone.”
“Do you think I want to come back alive?” I watch the flames overtake the house, rising through the roof. “Come back for what? Live for what? I’m going to kill this fucker and then—”
“Then what?” he shrieks and grabs me by the arm, holding me more tightly than perhaps he has ever held me before. “What are you saying?”
“This is my life!” I scream, shaking his hand off me. “It’s all I know,” I say a little quieter. “It’s all I want to know.”
“It’s a lie!” he screams back.
A familiar song and dance that I’m growing tired of.
“Maybe I’m okay with that.” The tears burn at the corner of my eyes, turning to ice as soon as they start to flow. I caress a hand over his frozen cheek. “Please, baby bird. Go.”
“Fuck you, Tucker!” He shoves me hard enough to send me onto my ass, burying me deep in the snow.
“I don’t think we were like this before.
I’ve tried so hard to remember, but I just keep coming up with nothing.
” He drops to his knees beside me and takes my hand in his.
“But I know what we are now. I love you and I’m not letting you march to your death. ”
“I’m not giving you the choice.”
I bow my head against his, and feel his warm breath dance on my chattering lips. One last kiss is all I need. Cold lips on cold lips, the softest of goodbyes. I whisper into his mouth, “You don’t have a choice.”
I reach for an arrow from the quiver on my back. An icicle of sadness trails down my cheek, melting between our lips. I grip the arrow tight and stab it into his thigh. He lets out a guttural scream that pierces through the moonlight. His eyes peel upwards to meet mine.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper to him and climb to my feet.
And I leave him behind.
Forest screams in agony, begging me not to go. I’ve made up my mind. I’m stubborn like that. The only thing I’ve ever been afraid of is losing him. I’m not afraid to die. I’m afraid of who I might be when the Wilds stop talking to me.