Chapter 7 #2
“Martin, you’ve seen what he can do, what Grayson already found. Just think about all the other lost or dangerous things Grayson might find. If I’m understanding him correctly, the problem isn’t that there isn’t anything to find. It’s that there’s too much. Doesn’t that give you pause?”
Martin took a step back, running his fingers through his thick, brown hair. “Obviously. Still, this is a lot. He’s a will-o’-the-wisp.” Martin sounded truly pained.
Having heard enough, I stood, stretching my arms above my head. “Give it up, Keir.” Lowering my arms, I rested my hands on my hips. “Martin can’t do it anyway.”
Keir and Martin turned, staring at me. While Keir appeared disappointed, Martin looked furious. “Why not?” Martin asked.
“Simple. You don’t care if I live or die.
” When he started to balk, I waved Martin off.
“At the very least, you don’t like me. An anchor has to care.
That’s an absolute necessity. It’s the very core of a successful anchor.
If that isn’t there, then it doesn’t matter how stable or strong you are.
It’s as simple as that.” I shrugged as if they should have already considered this.
Truly, Keir should have. Martin held too much animosity toward will-o’-the-wisps.
It wasn’t necessarily me in particular; it was my entire species.
Dryads had their reasons. I wouldn’t claim otherwise and didn’t necessarily fault Martin for his views.
Shoulders thrown back, Martin stared at me as if I’d mortally offended him. “You really believe I can’t do this.”
“Can’t, won’t—same difference.” I wasn’t certain why he was so angry. I was giving Martin a legitimate out here.
“It most certainly is not the same difference.” I swear, Martin’s stature grew about a foot. “I am more than capable of being your anchor.”
“Not if you hate me,” I snapped, beginning to get irritated myself.
“I do not hate you. That is too strong a word. I do not trust will-o’-the-wisps.”
I rolled my eyes and pointed to my chest. “Newsflash: I’m a fucking will-o’-the-wisp. Ergo, you don’t trust me.”
Martin’s mouth opened once before slamming shut. The animosity drained from his eyes, confusion taking its place. “That is not one hundred percent accurate.”
My eyebrows shot skyward. “No?”
With a huff, Martin turned from me, resting his forearm on Keir’s mantel, posture bent as he stared at the flicking flames. “There is a chance, albeit a small one, that you are different from the others I’ve encountered over the years.”
Martin probably thought he was offering up a compliment.
I didn’t take it that way. “Whatever. The point is, your animosity toward me won’t allow you to be a good anchor.
Trust goes both ways and my wisp form would need to trust you implicitly.
I would need to instinctually trust that you are a safe harbor, that yours is the call I need to heed.
You have no idea how strong treasures’ pull is.
Your song has to be louder. It has to blare with the force of a thousand suns.
You have to mean it. You have to want me to come back—all of me.
If you can’t do that, then the point is moot. ”
Martin turned, intensely staring at me, as if he were searching for my very soul. I glared back, refusing to flinch. I was what I was and made no apologies for it. Martin’s fingers tightly fisted and his lips thinned. He was a stubborn dryad, just as I’d expect from his oak nature.
“I assume you know what is required to bind us, to make me your anchor.”
My jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious. After what I just explained, this can’t work. You can’t—”
“Stop telling me what I can and cannot do.” Martin crossed his arms, head bent and staring down his nose at me.
“I can and I will be the best damn anchor a will-o’-the-wisp has ever known.
I will not fail you. I will call to you when you are in need.
I will bring you back whole. This I promise you. ”
My mouth snapped shut, teeth rattling. Disbelieving, I turned to Keir and asked, “Is he serious?”
Keir’s lips twitched as he fought a smile. “I’ve never known Martin to be anything but. As a matter of fact, some would say it is not one of his finer attributes, though I’ve never thought so.”
“I’m not sure if I was just insulted or if that was a compliment,” Martin said.
Keir gave Martin a truer smile before turning back to me. “If Martin says he can do this, then I believe him.”
“And you’d stake your life on that? Because that’s what you’re asking me to do.
” If I hadn’t made this crystal clear before, I wanted to do so now.
“If I get lost while in my wisp form, if the pull is too strong and I’m being torn asunder, there’s no going back.
Martin will be all I have.” I swallowed hard, wondering if I were truly considering this.
Keir gave a solemn nod and answered, “Without hesitation.”
I scoffed and turned from both of them. Arms wrapped around my middle, I lifted one hand enough to chew on my thumbnail.
That was easy for Keir to say. Martin actually liked him.
Me, not so much. I wouldn’t apologize for being a will-o’-the-wisp.
But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me that Martin disliked me.
I wasn’t sure why. Sure, Martin was handsome, but so were a thousand others.
Looks weren’t everything. Far from it. Sometimes there was just something inexplainable—something intangible that dug its claws in and made you take notice.
That’s how Martin made me feel, like there was an itch deep in my chest I couldn’t physically reach. It was curious at the best of times and downright annoying at the worst. And right now was not one of those better times.
“Maybe you should contact another will-o’-the-wisp.” My words were barely loud enough for Keir and Martin’s ears.
“I was under the impression another would have the same issue. Is that untrue?” Keir asked.
I shook my head, still unwilling to turn and look at them. “No, it’s true.”
“Then I do not see what the advantage would be.” Keir sounded truly confused.
“Maybe Martin would like them better. He could—”
“I would not agree to be anyone’s anchor but yours.” Martin interrupted my foolish statement.
This time, I did turn. Eyes wide, I stared up at him. I wasn’t certain when, but at some point, Martin had moved closer. Barely three feet separated us now. “What?”
Cheeks stained pink, Martin held my gaze. “I said, I would not agree to be another will-o’-the-wisp’s anchor. Just yours.”
“Why?” I wasn’t feigning confusion.
Martin shook his head. “All I can say is that I wouldn’t be able to guarantee their safety the way I can guarantee yours.”
“You’re that certain?”
“I am.” Martin certainly sounded sure of himself.
“And you understand that if I agree, you could very well hold my life in your hands. If you fail when I need you, I—”
“I won’t fail.” Martin’s chest puffed out, his shoulders thrown back, and the glare in his eyes determined. “I will not fail you.”
My heart hammered and I gripped the fabric over that beating organ. Was I really going to agree to this? The quiet “all right” that slipped passed my lips indicated that yes, yes I was going to agree to this.