12. Chapter Twelve
Chapter Twelve
Ena
Ena and Turner continued on, leaving the disastrous river, and all of Ena’s heart, behind them.
It stormed on and off over the next two weeks, causing them to take shelter repeatedly from the onslaught of snow, but they made progress nonetheless, putting one foot in front of the other, just like Greya had told her.
Blessedly, Ty’s horse and all his supplies were still with them, which meant they had more food to share between them, because without Ty’s venator, they’d had little luck trapping small game. Still, Ena knew they would run out eventually. It was only a matter of time. What would they do then?
And would it even matter?
She knew that was a dark thought, but it felt like she was living in a daze—sleeping, eating, riding, sleeping…
going through the motions, but she wasn’t all there.
She was doing what she had to, but part of her was still in disbelief about it all.
And anytime she thought about him…she felt a hole of dark grief grow inside her that was so gapingly large it threatened to swallow her whole. Sometimes she wanted to let it.
One morning, as she awoke in their significantly worse-for-wear tent, she rolled over instinctively to snuggle into Ty’s warmth, only to be met with a cold emptiness beside her.
At first, she felt disoriented, only to remember all over again where she was and what had happened.
The weight of it hit her anew like a boulder to her chest. She closed her eyes tight, not wanting any tears to fall.
She’d cried enough and she just wanted a break from it—a break from the overwhelming sadness.
She smooshed her face down into the rough wool blanket to stifle them, only to be met with Ty’s scent. She hadn’t noticed before, hadn’t gone looking for it, but the blanket still smelled slightly like him.
She inhaled deeply, the honey, cedar, and stone scent filling her with a fleeting sense of safety that she relished. She knew it was pathetic, but she couldn’t help it.
After getting her fill, she rolled back onto her back, her growing uterus feeling a bit strange in this position as it weighed down on her spine.
Then, out of nowhere, she felt a tiny flutter in her lower abdomen, barely noticeable at all, really.
Was that…what she thought it was?
She waited patiently, almost holding her breath, to see if it would happen again, keeping herself as still as possible, and then—
The tiny flutter came again, more distinct this time. Like something squirming around, just for a second.
Oh, Gaia. Unbidden, a smile crossed her face—her first one in weeks, she realized, and just as quickly, tears filled her eyes, as her heart both swelled and cracked at the same time.
It was real. The baby was real. It was here, inside her, growing into a tiny person.
The thought baffled her, like some sort of magic she knew not of.
She’d known she was pregnant, of course.
Her stomach had already grown to the point it was harder to fit in her trousers, and her symptoms were all consistent with pregnancy—aside from the strange bloodlust. But this…
this was the first sign of life. Of a person in there. Of her future.
Ena placed her hands on her lower abdomen, waiting to feel it again, when she felt Turner stir beside her.
He rolled over grumpily, as was his way in the morning, and cracked his eye open to look at her warily. “What are you doing?” he asked sullenly.
“I just felt the baby move,” she whispered, though why she felt the need to speak quietly, she couldn’t say.
“Really?” he asked, popping his head up to look at her. “Wow! Can I?” he asked, moving to place his hand on her stomach.
“Sure. I don’t think you’ll be able to feel it, though. It was barely there, but I definitely felt it.”
Turner held his hand gently on her for a few seconds before removing it and shaking his head and smiling lightly.
“What is it?” she asked skeptically. “There’s no way you felt something.”
“No, you’re right, I didn’t. It’s just…” Turner looked at her, his eyes welling with tears. “Ty should be here for this.”
Ena looked away from him, not having the capacity to hold his grief as well as her own right now.
“But in a way, it’s like he’s still kinda here, you know? Inside you,” Turner said, as if that was supposed to help her. Ena knew what he meant—that this tiny piece of Ty would be inside her child forever, no matter what.
But somehow, the idea made her angry, and she suddenly wanted to shout at him—because that statement made it seem like he’d accepted that Ty was gone.
“He’s not really gone. He could still come back,” she wanted to argue. That was what she told herself, because the alternative—that he was really gone, and she’d have to live with the uncertainty of not knowing what happened to him forever—was unbearable.
Blessedly, she was distracted from her painful thoughts when she heard shuffling outside the tent.
She and Turner looked at each other—he had heard it too.
“Is it…?” he asked, his voice low and cautious.
Ena shook her head. “Not an animal,” she said. Her Knowing had told her as much. “A person.”
Could it possibly be…?
She all but ran out of the tent, throwing her shoes on as she went, Turner following suit. Did she dare hope…?
But as her head emerged from the tent, her heart sank, and her stomach immediately tightened. Because standing in the middle of the snowy forest was a man—but it wasn’t her husband.
He was older, in his mid-fifties maybe, with jet-black hair and dark-as-night eyes. He was covered in various animal skins, stitched together and draped over his head and body to keep him warm. His features were strong and defined, but he was pale—so deathly pale he almost looked translucent.
And he held a bow pointed directly at her and Turner.
“Do not move,” he said. Ena understood his words, but something about the way he spoke was…different—the vowels were elongated, giving them an eerie quality she’d never heard before.
The man didn’t take his eyes off Ena and Turner as they slowly rose to standing, putting their hands up to show they meant no harm, but he tracked their movements with the deathly sharp tip of a bone arrow all the same.
Ena’s heart raced, and she felt her Gift surge inside her, ready to be used to protect her and Turner if need be.
Then she heard more footsteps approaching from behind them and turned just in time to see a middle-aged woman about her size emerge from the woods, her hand wrapped around a bone knife that Ena felt slowly press against her throat.
She swallowed, feeling the cold tip of the knife’s blade move with the motion.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that, like the man, the woman was covered head to toe in stitched-together furs, but Ena could see her eyes peeking out from under her hood—light green with a dark-green ring around them.
Ty’s eyes.
The familiarity of them was a punch to the gut, and Ena’s breath caught.
“Gaia, it’s you,” Ena blurted out.
The woman looked at her in shock, her eyes narrowing. “Gaia?” she asked. “I haven’t heard that name invoked in a long time.” Ena noted that, unlike the man, the way the woman spoke was normal, as she would expect. She sounded exactly like any other person from back home.
“I’m a witch. Of course I invoke Gaia,” Ena said, speaking slowly and calmly, so as to not spook either of them, but inside, she was frantic with excitement. “And you…you’re a witch, too, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” the woman replied, her voice filled with skepticism. “How did you know that? Who are you?”
A witch on the other side of the Chasm Mountains, with eyes the exact same as Ty’s… There was no doubt in her mind.
This was Ty’s mother, Kaya. The woman they’d been looking for.
Ena smiled despite herself, relief and trepidation surging through her in equal measure.
“We’ve been looking for you,” Ena said, her voice shaking as she spoke hurriedly.
“We’ve come a long way to find you and your…
people,” Ena added, glancing at the man with the arrow pointed at Turner, who must have been one of the Omnis worshippers.
“Looking for me? Why?” she asked, glancing suspiciously at Turner as her hand tightened around the knife at Ena’s throat.
Ena paused. How to explain that they were on the run from Cole and the Covens for breaking the bond, and that she and her baby were possibly in danger?
And that Mel had seen them come here, so they knew they needed to come here, but they weren’t exactly sure why—they just hoped it was somehow related to whatever the Canus Elk had portended?
That was all far too much to explain right now with a knife pointed at her throat, so she just settled on something simpler.
“It was Gaia’s will that we come to you,” she said. “We need your help.”
Kaya’s brows jumped up in surprise. She hadn’t been expecting that.
Ena hoped this would change the dynamic of their interaction, but then Kaya’s eyes darted to Turner.
“Maybe it was Gaia’s will that you come to me, but what about him?
” she asked, looking with hesitance towards Turner. “He is no follower of Gaia.”
Ena glanced over at Turner out of the corner of her eye, but all his onata were covered. How could she tell he was a daemon?
“I’d recognize Zak’s genes anywhere,” she explained venomously. “You do so resemble your father.”
Turner’s face sank with displeasure. Ena knew how he felt about his father, and to be associated with him against his own will must have been a tough potion to swallow.
“I am a daemon, it’s true,” he said fairly, “but I mean you no harm. I came with my friends. We were told we must come here, for protection.”
“For protection?” Kaya asked. She raised her brow at them, seeming shocked by this development. “You expect me to believe that you weren’t sent here by Cole to kill me?”
Sent here by Cole to kill her? Why would Cole want her dead?
“Granted,” Kaya continued, “I am surprised he’s followed up after all these years. It’s been a long time since I left the Underworld.”
Ena didn’t have time to answer or explain because suddenly, the sky interrupted them—drawing their collective attention. Kaya looked up, watching as a loud boom of thunder crashed across the darkening clouds—threatening to unleash upon them.
“Kaya,” her companion said, his tone serious. “We must go. The storm is coming.” He had not lowered his bow, still holding it steady at Turner’s head. Unspoken was the implication that they should leave Ena and Turner here, to their own devices, or kill them quickly.
Ena peeked up at the sky, concern filling her at the prospect of another storm.
They were out in the middle of the forest now—away from any significant shelter other than their worn-down tent.
They would be vulnerable to the worst of the storm, and Kaya and her companion knew it. Killing them might be a mercy.
“Damn,” Kaya said, glancing up at the cloud-covered sky, before looking back at her and Turner, assessing the best course of action.
She looked to Ena then—studying her—and Ena Knew in an instant that she herself was subject to the witch’s Knowing at that moment, so she bared her signs for Kaya to see.
“I swear, we mean you no harm. We come here for your protection, and I will be happy to explain, if we can get to some shelter first,” Ena said sincerely.
Kaya paused, watching her, until slowly, she lowered the knife at Ena’s throat. “My Knowing tells me they are being sincere,” she said to her companion.
He made eye contact with her, some unspoken instruction passing between them, before he, too, lowered his bow, but he didn’t take his eyes off them, and continued to watch them like a predator watched prey.
“You two can come with us back to our camp to discuss this further. But we must seek shelter now, before the storm hits,” Kaya offered.
Turner looked to Ena, as if seeing how she felt about this development, and Ena would be lying if she said she wasn’t hesitant.
Were these people dangerous in some way?
They didn’t exactly seem friendly, though she understood their initial reaction towards her and Turner—they were strangers, after all.
But this was what they had come for, right? To meet these people. To find Kaya and seek a safe place to deliver her baby. To learn about Omnis and see if, somehow, it was all connected to the strange future Mel had seen.
But her fears were irrelevant—this was their path, and she had to trust it.
“Okay,” Ena said decisively. “Lead the way.”