Chapter Eighteen
Is it Weird to Talk to Trees?
Smoke curled upward from the chimney of the mess hall, bringing smells of cooking meat and warm spices. Voices from warriors gathering within the inner courtyard filtered out into the late afternoon air, joined by the clangs of swords and grunts from the nearby training field.
I sat in the grass beneath the shade of a large cherry tree, skimming the first page of a book I’d borrowed from the reading parlor. Skimming because it was hard to stay focused.
Two days had passed since I’d seen Onyx. From the second he left the kitchen that one morning when I’d been running around making croissants and munching on cookies, too stressed to sleep, I hadn’t seen even a glimpse of him.
“This between us will only end one of two ways, little bird. With one of us dead or you leaving this realm.”
Guess there was a third way too. Avoiding each other completely. Not that it was a long-term solution. Even now, I felt the stirring of our fated bond. One that made me want to jump up and track him down, feeling the heat of his skin against mine. Inhaling his smoky scent.
I sighed and adjusted the book on my knee, trying to focus. Pretty sure I’d read the same sentence ten times and still had no idea what it said.
“Boy.”
The sudden voice made me jump, knocking the book off my knee and into the grass. Phantasia stood beside the tree, her expression grave. Seeing her somewhere other than the clinic was almost as shocking as spotting that monstrous bird soaring overhead.
“You’re outside,” I said, my brain struggling to process the sight of her with a backdrop of grassy fields, sunshine, and blue skies.
“How observant.” She rested a hand on her hip. “I don’t live in my clinic, you know. I do have a life.”
“Of course,” I responded, feeling silly for thinking otherwise. “So what, um, brings you out here?”
“You.” She jerked her head toward the castle. “Come with me.”
Phantasia didn’t wait for a response before turning and strolling down the path. Salem squawked and flapped his heavy wings, hovering above her. I quickly gathered the fallen book and tucked it back into my basket before pushing from the grass and rushing after her.
One thing I’d learned about the demon physician? She didn’t like repeating herself.
I followed her down a narrow, stone-lined path that wound around the side of the castle and toward an orchard of trees. Green apples blossomed on the branches, while bright red ones grew on others. I loved using both in my apple pie recipe, giving it a perfect balance of tart and sweet.
Cobblers too.
There was a gnawing inside my chest as my thoughts, once again, returned to Onyx. Movement caught my eye from an upstairs window. The flutter of a curtain. As though someone had been standing there peering down at me.
“Phantasia?” I padded along behind her, casting another wary glance toward the giant bird as he landed in a nearby tree. “Quick question. Where are we going?”
Definitely not to the clinic like I’d initially expected.
“A sacred place,” she answered. “That’s all I’ll say for now.”
Well, that didn’t seem strange and creepy at all. Nope. Not one bit.
“Uh… okay.” I cleared my throat and tried not to let my imagination run wild. An impossible feat. Because as we passed through the orchard and slipped into a dense shroud of trees beyond it, I started wondering if this sacred place required a blood sacrifice of the saintly muffin variety.
“Worry not, boy.” She peered back at me with… I wouldn’t say a kind expression, but it was certainly a lot softer than the severe one she normally wore. “Now that your powers have fully awoken, I thought it best to visit the willow. She will provide guidance where none of us can.”
“The willow?” I asked.
“You’ve met her sister,” Phantasia explained, holding out her arm before the air stirred and Salem landed on her elbow, tucking in his massive dark red wings. “In Bremloc.”
I stumbled in step. I’d seen the willow the night Reign and Draven took me and my men to the Tower: the spies’ hideout. There had been a field of fluorescent blue flowers and a weeping willow that released a musical hum as the breeze swept through the long branches.
Now that I thought about it, it was exactly how the trees and grass looked in the Shadow Realm at nightfall.
“The seed of that willow was planted by Lord Onyx’s great grandsire as a show of good faith to the humans,” she explained, continuing down the path.
“The arcane energy became a source of power for the Order of Magi. Peace reigned between our kinds for many years because of it. That is, until King Paris waged war on us.”
“What about the guardian?” I asked. The dark figure had stood beside the tree, seven foot tall at least, and had been wearing a hooded cloak.
“A spirit of the willow,” she answered. “Every willow has one. Think of it as a loyal knight guarding his queen.”
I smiled at that, thinking of my own protective knights. “So weeping willows are a source of magic?”
“Not a source. The source.” Phantasia left the path and cut through a section of the woods.
A well-kept trail at least, no evil thorn bushes clawing at my legs or roots jutting up to trip me.
“Rivers of mana flow beneath the soil of our very feet. Stronger in this realm than anywhere else on this side of the sea. Magic is all around us, in every blade of grass, drop of water, and in the air we breathe. All blessed by the willow.”
“Is that why the trees and plants glow?” I asked. “And the fish.”
“Yes. Also why this realm is home to so many marvelous creatures that are uncommon beyond the barrier. They thrive here because they require a greater degree of mana.” Her brow pulled together as she peered back at me.
“As such, it’s my hope that you’ll thrive here as well.
More powerful than the saint before you…
and with a much kinder heart. Even if that heart is aching at the moment. ”
“Did Onyx tell you what happened between us?” I asked.
She nodded. “Know that he aches just as deeply. The curse cannot be broken by any power I possess nor any of the spells held within the countless grimoires I’ve acquired over the centuries. Saint Vera gave him a fate worse than death.”
My throat burned. Seemed to be a constant sensation over the past two days.
We soon stepped from the density of the woods and out into an open meadow peppered with wildflowers.
A stream trickled on one side, the glistening water winding over smooth, colorful stones.
Sunlight shone down on a weeping willow standing tall in the center of the meadow, the long branches swaying over the lush bed of grass beneath it.
Even in daylight, I noticed the glimmer along the leaves, like an endless current of magical energy. In the quiet afternoon, tiny jingles rang out, reminiscent of wind chimes caught in a gentle breeze.
A dark figure stood within the shade of the long branches. The guardian. Similar to the one in Bremloc, but bulkier, his armor and sword like black obsidian.
“Will we make him mad if we get too close?” I asked, nervous.
“Not if our intentions are pure,” she answered, then stepped toward the tree without hesitation.
Well, alrighty then.
I followed after her, taking deep breaths as we neared the tree. How did it know what my intentions were if I didn’t even know? I didn’t know why the heck we were there. Phantasia mentioned the willow offering me some guidance, but what did that entail?
And would it result in me being skewered through the middle by the giant sword clutched in the guardian’s fist?
“Blessed be, Fair Willow and Guardian,” Phantasia said, bowing her head as she stopped several feet from the dark figure. Too close for comfort, I’d say. “A soul needs your guidance. I humbly request permission for him to pass beyond your branches.”
A moment passed, the silence only broken by the musical chime of the leaves and the flowing stream. But then, a soft breeze swept around us, ruffling mine and Phantasia’s hair, before the branches in front of us shifted aside.
“My deepest gratitude.” Phantasia bowed her head again before looking at me, a smile on her lips. Brighter than I’d ever seen her look. “You may approach.”
“You want me to go in there?” I asked, motioning toward the shadows within the tree. “With the dark knight?”
“Guardian,” she corrected. “And he will not harm you lest you force his hand.”
I peered toward the parted branches. “What do I do once I go inside?”
“Let her energy surround you. Feel, don’t think.” She placed her hand over my chest and patted once. “Now go.”
Shakily exhaling, I stepped forward. The moment I passed beyond the branches, the air changed. Tingled, as if filled with static electricity. And as the branches closed behind me, very little sunlight bled through, causing a noticeable drop in temperature. A chill slithered down my spine.
The guardian turned his head toward me. The one in Bremloc had worn a hood that covered his face, but this one wore a knight’s helmet, showing nothing apart from his black eyes.
“Hi,” I squeaked. “Please don’t stab me. I’m not here to hurt you or the, um, Fair Willow.”
A soft orange glow appeared, drawing my attention to the trunk of the tree. The light seeped through the bark and gently pulsed. Like a heartbeat.
A sense of calm washed over me, and my feet moved on their own, bringing me closer. Not sure why, but a gut feeling told me to place my hand over the glow. So I did, letting myself feel and not think, just as Phantasia told me to do.
The moment my palm touched the glowing bark, my vision went dark. As if in a dream, I saw five blurred figures standing before me, each varying in size and height. Male and female. Their features were distorted, but they all had one thing in common: blue flames swirling from their fingertips.
They were the five Hallowed Saints that had come before me.
“Combat,” a deep male voice said, coming from the third in line. He towered over the others and had a Herculean build.