Chapter 56
GARRICK
I’d expected it, but that did not make their loss any less acute. I even tried not to blink so that Syleris would be forced to physically remove her before my very eyes. But in the end, he had the upper hand. Whatever else he was to us, this was the Unknown Gate, and he was the Dark God.
I stood on the same path as before, except that the tree with the witch symbol was gone, and so were Koryn and her familiar. I’d face my future alone. Damn, I hoped I was not consigned to a future alone.
At least with the Lifebind, if Koryn died, I would as well. There was a sort of comfort to that. She’d go on to Syleris, and I would not be tortured by a life without her—
No.
Neither of them got to go on without me. Not without a fight.
I strode down the path with purpose. Koryn was not beside me. Isanara was not twitching nervously or sassing silently through her bond with Koryn. Whatever this future was, I was ready to face it.
It did not take long for the light to appear.
It started like the mysterious passageway through space that my stepmother had opened—a single pinprick of light.
Unlike the one Parry had created, which spiraled outward and then opened to another place, this light grew larger and brighter with every stride, until it was like staring directly into the sun.
I kept one hand on my sword, the other loose and ready to draw the bow. It never missed. It had been enchanted by its creator. My Lifebind. My Koryn.
The light was brighter. It shone on my clothing, my hair. I just kept walking. Straight forward, straight into it, until I had to close my eyes or risk them burning out of my skull.
I waited for impact. For a shift in the world around me, like when Syleris’ power ripped us from place to place or realm to realm. But it never came. Eventually, I forced my eyes open, just a crack. Enough to see—
To see that everything had changed.
“Garrick,” my mother said. “Come and sit with us.”
Us.
Koryn and my mother sat before a wide stone hearth, where a fire blazed and a wide-bellied pot of something fragrant bubbled.
My mother said something quietly. Koryn threw back her head and laughed. It was a sound I’d never heard from her before. Wild and untamed, just like her, full of life despite her circumstances. Free and totally unguarded. Her hair was longer, the ends nearly brushing her backside.
Just like my mother, she appeared healthy and happy and whole.
I looked out the window. The brambles. The same ones where my mother and I had once carved out a life. They were still there, but they’d been cleared back to make room for a large yard. Rows of fruit trees and vegetables were neatly arranged. There were flower beds. It was peaceful.
It was not Velora.
“Garrick, we need you to taste this,” Koryn called from the hearth. The coven mark was still there on her forehead. Her sleeves obscured the Lifebind, but when I looked down at my own wrist, I could see it.
“I tried to use some of your herbs,” Koryn was saying. “But Iravena thinks I may have taken it too far.”
I walked to the hearth. Every step made a sound. I could feel my own weight. Everything about this future felt real. My mother safe. Koryn happy. Far away from Velora. It was precisely what I’d dreamed of in those bleak days after the Memory Gate.
I stopped short. Koryn held up a ladle full of clear liquid speckled with dried herbs. I did not reach for it.
“Where is he?”
My mother blinked up at me. Koryn frowned. “Where is who?”
“Syleris.”
Koryn shook her head slowly from side to side. “I am not sure what you mean.”
I exhaled. Everything was right about this future, except for one nagging suspicion. I knelt down in front of Koryn. She held out the ladle again, but I gently nudged it aside. My mother took it deftly from her hand.
My fingers found the hem of Koryn’s gown. Her breath hitched as I drew it up her leg, my fingertips skating across the bare skin of her calf and knee.
“Garrick,” she protested, trying to press her knees together. “Your mother—”
“Hush,” I said.
The traitorous look in her eyes felt real enough. But she let me part her knees and lift her gown to the side to reveal her bare inner thigh. I checked the other, just to be certain. An expanse of soft, creamy skin waited for me. But no mark. No bargain.
No Syleris.
I lowered Koryn’s skirt gently, even though I knew it wasn’t really her. I gave my mother a long look as I stood. I would see her this way again, I promised myself, or die trying.
Then I folded my hands over my body and looked up, around, behind, for any sign. There was nothing—just the two women staring at me from the hearth like I’d lost my mind,
“This is not what I want,” I said aloud.
Koryn got to her feet. “Garrick—”
“This is not what I want. Do you hear me?” My voice got louder with each word. “Is that what you needed to hear? That I want you as much as I want her?”
This time there was no light. It was just a blink. One moment I was in what I’d envisioned as my own happily ever after, and the next I was alone on a cold path in a frozen forest in the present.
I sat down in the snow. A moment later, a flash of shimmering lavender scales appeared from between the trees. Isanara padded across the snow. She glared in the direction of the tree blocking the middle of the path, now firmly back in place. I shrugged. I’d made my choice.
Now we would have to trust Koryn to make hers.