Episode 16 They Should Have Gone Swimming
They Should Have Gone Swimming
Rominy’s voice sounds far away, as if muffled by the mist. What an odd place this is. It’s just the heartlanding, though. None of it is real.
“Elowyn!” Rominy nearly bowls her over as he rushes into the hedgerow behind her, and she grabs his arm to keep him on his feet.
“What’s wrong?”
“You vanished.”
“Strange. It must be the mist and shadows.”
“My heart nearly stopped.”
She gazes up at him as he straightens. Is that a human expression? His heart is anything but slow at the moment. He was genuinely concerned about her.
“I see. Well, I’m here, and I’m fine. Shall we keep going?”
“Keep going? Into the dark, misty labyrinth?” He gawks at her.
“Yes...” She draws the word out, and Rominy sputters in response.
“We can barely see!” he finally manages.
“That’s not a problem. Watch.” Holding out her palm, she draws from the inner fire that’s always burning deep within her and creates an orb of soft, yellow light in her hand.
Rominy almost jumps into the hedge. “How did you do that?”
Elowyn frowns. “Magic, of course.”
“M-magic. Of course. Magic. You can do magic?”
“I’m an elf, Rominy. The daughter of Lorial and Nestraya. Of course I can do magic.”
Surely he knew all elves carry a spark of magic within them.
“I knew elves could do magic...I just...didn’t think about you doing magic. What kind of magic is that?”
“It’s a type of fire magic, one of my affinities.”
“You’re a fire wielder,” he breathes.
“Yes, like my father. My affinity for water magic comes from my mother. It’s an unusual combination. Usually, elves with dual affinities don’t have opposing giftings. I guess I’m special—at least that’s what Mother says.”
She glances up at him as the shifting light from her magic casts swirling shadows across his face. His mouth hangs slightly open, and his brown eyes stare back at her in shock.
“Are you all right?” she asks.
“I honestly don’t know.”
Laughter bursts from her at his forthrightness, and her response is enough to break him free of his daze. A smile quirks his lips in a lopsided grin that makes her heart flutter.
“So you want to keep going?” As he gazes down the misty path where it travels to the left, his heart races again.
He truly is frightened.
“We don’t have to,” she says softly.
She’d offer to go without him, but would the heartlanding even let them part ways? The entire purpose of its existence is to draw them together, after all.
“None of this is real, right?” His voice comes out hoarse, and he clears his throat.
“It’s just a magical construct shared between our minds. Like a hallucination or a dream.”
“Uh-huh. A dream.” He mumbles something that sounds like the word “nightmare,” and Elowyn sucks in her cheeks to refrain from smiling. “I wish I had a rifle,” he mutters.
“You won’t need one. You have me.” She smiles sweetly up at him, and he eyes the orb of light in her hand.
“Just...don’t disappear again, all right?”
“How about this?” She offers her free hand to him, and after the slightest hesitation, he takes it. It’s not the first time they’ve linked hands, but doing it by choice rather than as part of a ceremony feels more intimate.
Of course, he did take her hand when he led her to his chamber after the wedding feast.
“Ready?” she asks.
“No.”
She softens her expression as she looks up at him. “It’s all right. We don’t have to—”
“Come on.” He tugs her forward, and she hurries to match his stride, which is long at first, but as they approach another turn in the labyrinth, he slows to a shuffle.
The mist makes the air heavy, like the heart of the Wildthorne Woods, where a loamy, musty scent fills the air at all times.
Together, they peer around the corner as Elowyn holds out her light. It’s another straight path, longer this time, but the mist is thinner, and they can see farther.
“Here goes nothing.” With a longing look back toward the rose garden, Rominy trudges around the corner with Elowyn at his side.
The farther they travel along the hedgerow, the quieter it seems. The chatter of birds is long gone, and not even the whisper of a breeze breaks the muffled silence.
A dark sense of foreboding descends upon Elowyn. Perhaps Rominy was right. Maybe they should have gone back to the garden path.
Why put a labyrinth in their heartlanding if they aren’t meant to explore it, though?
As they reach another corner, Rominy stands closer to Elowyn, though whether he’s trying to shield her or take strength from her is hard to say.
It’s nice to imagine he’s trying to protect her.
Once again, they peek around the corner, this time into a more open space, and Elowyn relaxes until Rominy’s grip on her hand tightens.
“Elowyn...is that hedge...breathing?”
At his whisper, the faint movement stills, and then, as they clutch each other, a yellow slit forms in the glittering green bush. Elowyn’s heart hammers along with Rominy’s as the slit widens, growing rounder until a beady orb of black and yellow stares back at them.
“What kind of place is this?” Rominy hisses, but Elowyn doesn’t move. She doesn’t breathe. She doesn’t blink.
And then the yellow eye blinks instead.
Elowyn barely holds back a scream as the bush lifts away from the rest of the hedge.
Only it’s not a bush.
It’s a dragon.
Every ounce of sense within Rominy tells him to run. He knew this was a bad idea.
A place to rest, indeed. Rest with monsters.
“Don’t move,” Elowyn breathes through still lips.
“Please tell me you aren’t planning to make friends with it.”
When he glances at her from the corner of his eye, she appears to be holding back a smile.
Stars above, his wife has a death wish.
Can you die in the heartlanding? He’s not eager to find out.
If only they could wake up. Blink their eyes open back in the castle.
They should have gone swimming.
Of course, there are probably sharks circling in the water below their sailboat, waiting to gnaw on them. That might be a worse way to go.
The dragon’s scales glitter green in the light from Elowyn’s magic. No wonder it looked like a hedge. Now it’s staring at them from one of its yellow eyes.
Any minute now, fire will burst from its mouth. Or its nostrils. How does a dragon breathe fire, anyway? Maybe both ways?
To Rominy’s dismay, Elowyn shuffles forward. Stars above—she really does want to die.
The dragon rears back, and its long, spiked tail flies toward them.
Rominy doesn’t even think. He just reacts and flings himself between the spikes and Elowyn.
Burning pain ignites his flesh where the spikes dig across his torso, and he looks down in shock at the red seeping in a growing circle on his white shirt.
The world goes dark as Elowyn’s scream bites his ears before fading away as if a gulf separates them. The pain ebbs, leaving him lightheaded as he struggles in the darkness.
Is he dying?
He can’t die. That would kill Elowyn, too.
“Rominy!” Elowyn’s voice grows louder again as a faint light casts shadows across his chamber.
His chamber. Oh, thank the heavens. He’s alive.
He pulls back the covers to examine himself for any signs of harm, but the room spins just as a blinding light flies toward him.
“You’re all right. Tell me you’re all right.”
It’s Elowyn. Before he can answer, her free hand is running across the bare skin of his stomach, and whatever he was going to say becomes a distant thought.
“You’re not hurt. Oh, I thought—”
“I’m fine,” he finally manages. “Just lightheaded.”
And shirtless. At least she’s not wearing that lacy nightgown. That would be every kind of awkward.
She’d be gorgeous in it, though.
Before he has time to ponder that thought, Elowyn smacks his chest, and he flinches.
“What was that for?”
“For scaring me half to death. You can’t just jump in front of dragons like that!”
He looks sheepishly up at her as shadows silhouette her silver hair. “I didn’t want it to hurt you.”
“I have magic!”
His brows knit. “Right. I forgot.”
She sags onto the bed beside him. “There was so much blood. And then you collapsed, and it didn’t look like you were breathing, and suddenly I was in my bed again.” Panic edges her voice, and he pushes himself into a sitting position.
“Hey, hey. It’s all right. I’m fine. See? No blood. Not even a scratch.”
Then she’s leaning against him as quiet weeping makes her shudder.
Now what?
Hesitantly, he wraps his arms around her. “It’s all right, Elowyn. I’m all right. And we learned something important—”
“Don’t walk down labyrinths that have dragons living in them?”
“That, too. Let’s not do that again. No, I meant if you’re gravely wounded in the heartlanding, you just wake up. No dying. Though that hurt something fierce.” He shudders at the memory.
She’s still in his arms, but her weeping seems to be slowing. “I can’t believe you got killed by a dragon, and we can’t even tell anyone.”
Laughter bursts from him at her words. “I did it while being heroic, too, and no one but you will ever know.”
“Just don’t do anything heroic like that in real life, all right?” She looks up at him, and her gray eyes glisten with her tears as she hurries to wipe them away.
“Don’t approach dragons, and I won’t have to.”
That elicits a smile, and his own mouth ticks up to match.
“I hope Cerian and Arisanna are faring better than we are,” she says softly in the dim light from her magic. It’s not as blinding as it was earlier.
“Well, we’re still alive, so we seem to be surviving. Do you think you can sleep more after that? It’s still a few hours until morning.”
Hopefully, they won’t find themselves back in a dragon’s hedge again tonight.
“I can try.” For a moment, she sits beside him on his bed, looking around as if just now realizing she practically flung herself at him. Heat spreads up his bare shoulders and neck to his face, and she climbs off the bed.
“Right. Sorry about...that. Goodnight, Rominy.”
He watches her go, and it’s a while until sleep comes for him again.