Chapter 23
THE ONLY PLACE
ELLIOT
Four hours later, we’re almost to the Cursed Grounds.
We’re high enough that the temperature has dropped and the trees are thicker, hiding us from the sun.
Secora is wearing my sleep pants, rolled multiple times at the waist and her ankles.
Her ruined tights and messed skirt are folded in my pack.
Her underwear is still tucked in my pants pocket, and I’ve decided I’m not giving them back.
I steal a glance at her. She’s a half-step in front of me.
She’s slowed immensely since we first started walking, and despite the chill in the air, she’s sweating.
She doesn’t exercise much now, but I wonder if she did when we were younger.
I wonder if she’d be interested in doing hikes in the future or if she’d scowl at the mere suggestion.
I smile and look back to the trees around us. The forest has never seemed quite as sexual as it does now. Every single tree has potential. I bet I could convince Secora to hike if I promised to fuck her on a new tree each time.
She stumbles over a rock and I touch her elbow to steady her.
For all the strangeness we’ve been through these past few weeks, this feels inexplicably natural.
The irresistible urge to touch her? Now, I can.
I don’t have to think about it. I don’t have to feel guilty. I don’t have to wonder if I’m evil.
Now, I’m thrilled to do it. Pleased to touch her and help her and kick a little more dirt onto Harrison’s metaphorical grave.
Secora offers me a small smile. Then she’s focused again, brow furrowed as she walks up the steep terrain. If it gets any worse, I’m going to demand her bag. She’s going to fall three miles if she trips, and then who am I supposed to christen the forest with?
“Secora?” I ask after a few minutes of walking.
“Yeah?”
“What’s after this?”
She stumbles, and again, I steady her elbow.
As much as I’d like to grab her hand, for the peace of mind if nothing else, I don’t.
I need to know what she’s thinking, and if I’m touching her, there’s a good chance I’ll get distracted.
I’ll end up fucking her again, and besides the fact we need to have this conversation, she also needs time before we have sex again.
My lips tick without permission. I’ve regressed into a teenage boy, horny and tunnel-visioned, sights set solely on her.
“We’ll do some trial and error,” she says shakily. “If this new ingredient is what you think, I should be able to incorporate it into the ritual. It’ll depend on—”
“That’s not what I meant,” I say. Then, “You know what I’m asking, Secora.”
She drags her boots through the dirt, slowing her steps until she finally stops. We can’t see the black stone from where we are on the mountain, but she stares in its direction.
“I’ll take you to the ingredient either way,” I say quickly. “So you don’t have to agree to anything to get your end of the bargain. I’ll still show you. I’ll still help with the spells.”
“But only if I give you the last two memories, right?” she asks. Her cheeks have a pink tinge to them. I can’t decide if it’s purely from the cold or her exertion, or if there are nerves there too.
“They’re my memories, Secora,” I say. As fucking gently as I can, because I don’t want her to spiral. I don’t want her to shut down or turn away or ruin this before it’s even started. “They won’t change how I feel.”
“They will change everything,” she says. Her voice catches so abruptly even she seems surprised. She wipes at her eyes, attention flicking from me to the hike ahead. “They don’t matter, Elliot.”
“They matter to me,” I whisper.
Secora’s hands open and shut, fingers flexing, as if she’s fighting off surges of magic. She could hurl me all the way down this mountain. I don’t question her strength, but I no longer fear it. I step toward her, taking one of her shaking palms in mine.
“Breathe, Secora,” I say. Her brown eyes meet mine, wild with secrets only she knows. “It’s going to be okay. I promise. Your old offer can stand. If I want to give them back—”
Secora rips out of my hold. She marches up the mountain, slightly angled to the north.
If she keeps that direction, she’ll miss the black rock entirely.
I should let her go. I should follow after her and let her exert all her energy until she’s too tired to fight this losing battle anymore.
If she got tired enough to drop her walls, maybe she’d realize I’m nothing to fear, not even once I know every ugly and terrifying truth.
“Secora!” I call. I jog after her, eating the space between us with a matter of three paces.
She stops again, scowl twisting her doll-like features. Her chest heaves as she untangles her bag off her shoulder and throws it haphazardly at my feet.
“You want the memories?” she asks. She’s crying and shaking and looking at me like I’m trying to hurt her. “Fine. You can have them. But–but you watch them, and this is done. All right? It’s over.”
She takes off again, this time running. Without her bag, she’s faster. She darts between the trees and doesn’t so much as look back at me.
I curse. Throw my pack to the ground and replace her bag on my shoulder.
I sprint after her, calling her name as she desperately puts more distance between us.
When I finally catch her elbow, she spins around so fast she loses her footing.
She’s still crying as she collapses into the dirt, breathing so hard I’m afraid she’s going to pass out.
“Breathe, honey,” I say. I tuck her hair behind her ears, and for the briefest of seconds, she lets me. She leans into my touch, allowing me to wipe the tears from her cheeks. Then, her eyes hone in on her bag on my shoulder. She glares at me, mouth twisting into a violent snarl.
“Don’t,” she says. “If you watch that, you’ll—”
I lunge forward and cut her off with the press of my lips against hers.
It’s a messy, clumsy kiss. More teeth than tongue, more frustration than passion.
She falls back against the dirt, and I cage her in with my hands on either side of her face.
I keep my weight off her and my lips far enough away to make it clear she can say no.
“If I watch that, I will still love you,” I say. Her eyes widen with my words, so I lower my head, touching my nose against her. “I will still love you. I will still want you. I will still belong to you.”
“Can’t you just trust me?” she asks. Her face is wet with tears, and I kiss them away, chasing the ones that have trailed down to her neck. “Please, Elliot. Just love me without them. Be with me without them. Why can’t you just let it be?”
I don’t answer at first. I lower onto my elbows, carefully settling my body over hers, until we are touching everywhere through our clothes.
“Because, I have this feeling,” I say quietly. “The reason you don’t want me to see the memories isn’t to protect yourself, Secora. Is it? They’re to protect me, and you’ve done that long enough.”
“Elliot—”
“It’s my turn,” I say. I kiss the hollow of her throat, placing my thumb on the bruise above her collarbone.
I didn’t mean to leave a mark when I kissed her earlier, but I don’t regret it.
I’d like to do this every morning for the rest of our lives.
Let everyone know she has someone who fucks her exactly the way she needs.
“Elliot.” My name is a whisper this time, swallowed up by the immensity of the forest around us.
“Secora,” I return. “My Secora. I’m going to watch it, and I am going to love you. Okay?”
She doesn’t answer right away. I remain close, planting a few more kisses on her throat before rotating off her.
I don’t want her to feel pressured to answer.
And as much as I hate to admit it, I’m not going to watch them without her permission.
I can be patient. I can wait as long as I need to gain her trust, to make her understand I’m not going to leave, no matter what these memories hold.
I lay beside her, both of us looking up at the grey sky, barely visible through the thick trees. Leaves and twigs rustle when she finally turns her head to look at me.
“You love me?” she asks. So vulnerable and soft, so sweet and lovely.
“Yes,” I say, dropping my chin to meet her gaze.
“And you’ll let me take it away if it’s too much?” she whispers.
“I promise,” I say. Silently, I add, it won’t be.
“Okay,” she says. She looks back up at the sky, but her hand moves through the tangle of leaves, only stopping once her fingers find mine. “Okay, Elliot. You can watch them.”
Elliot Lyrie
age 16
That Night
Dark.
It’s dark in the augur house and quiet. The augurs will be gone through the end of the month, so these halls will be abandoned for a few more days. Harrison will be here. I know that now. Even while he should be with his uncle who lives near the river, he’ll be here.
Drinking.
Smoking.
Raping.
I stop. Lean against the hallway wall for support.
This place has always unsettled me. Mama Iyle has been an augur for as long as I’ve known her, so this is far from my first time wandering the halls unsupervised.
It is, however, the first time I realized how many horrible, terrible things could happen here.
My fingernails draw blood. I force my hands to relax. I didn’t realize I’d been clenching my fists, but blood decorates my palms, shaped like tiny crescent moons.
I swallow. I need to stay calm.
The council may be ready to hide Harrison’s crimes, but I’m not.
I’m ready to drag him into the light, hang him from his wrists in the town square and strip him naked.
Let the world see him for the cruel, heartless beast he is.
Let them punish him for it. Let them do as they please to the monster I lay before them, only having my turn once his body is bruised and broken.