Chapter 39
CORIN RAN OFF the island with gritted teeth and a shattered heart. Shadows surrounding the woods stretched tall, rows of swaying silhouettes that reenacted the fairy tale once more: the knight in shining armor, the dragon slain by his strength. A sword raised in the air, a blade plunged through the monster’s heart. She pressed her palms to her ears, but she couldn’t forget the sound of Malicine’s screech as Ezran killed them.
The ocean rolled waves of mist by the time she stumbled to shore alongside her sister. The rowboat looked like a speck in the fog, something Briar Rose must have sent back once she retreated to safety. Corin hauled Elly inside before jumping in the seat, then stopped when she spotted a shadow among the trees.
She wanted to believe the tears she’d been fighting back simply blurred her vision. Yet as the figure approached closer, she couldn’t deny the rising panic in her throat from seeing Ezran’s ivory armor. Her heart lurched just as her body did over the boat, hooking Elly’s neck with her arm to dive forward. Water filled their lungs as she pressed their backs against the bottom of the wooden craft and resisted the urge to choke or risk giving themselves away.
His shadow stretched over the water as he stopped at the shore. The larger his figure grew, the smaller they shrank in hiding. She couldn’t tell if the trembling of her skin was Elly’s or her own.
While Ezran towered above, pressure built in Corin’s chest. Her body screamed for air. She focused so intensely on not passing out that she nearly let out a gasp when a pinprick of something cold hit her cheek. Elly picked the tiny orb from Corin’s face and held between her fingers a glistening pearl.
Corin watched in a confused daze as more emerged from the black abyss of the ocean floor. They floated like bubbles, a shining tidal wave of gemstones that reached the surface. Ezran’s shadow shifted in the ocean’s reflection. His fingers plunged through the water to grasp the pearls.
She watched his shadow go still. A memory she couldn’t decipher swirled like air bubbles. Something dark and mournful pressed onto her chest, as if she were truly drowning underwater. But the pain wasn’t hers. Neither was the guttural howl that came next.
The sound split the ocean in multiple pieces. Waves ripped her body from the boat, wooden splinters flying in different directions alongside her. Her hands lost grip of Elly’s, their fingers ripped apart from one another. Salt poured down Corin’s throat as water drowned her yells. They expelled to make room for sand filling her mouth next, and she found herself strewn over a narrow strip of land, where water drained away and left behind barren patches of mineral and earth.
Corin knelt over sand and clutched her burning throat, gasping for air. Without water, the land turned blank, a bright nothingness that set fire to her eyes. She blinked hard, readjusting her vision to find Elly a few feet away from her. Her sister crawled out from beneath the overturned boat, and when she pulled her pant leg up, a large splinter had stabbed through the meaty flesh of her calf. Elly ripped the wood from her leg and let out a cry.
“I can’t run,” she winced. “It hurts too much.”
“Then hold on to me,” Corin demanded, already snaking her arms beneath Elly’s armpits to hoist her up. She carried her sister on her back, but barely kept balance as the earth beneath them shook. A dark gloom stampeded over the dried well where the ocean once was. They looked up to see what the prince had become. Shadows wrapped around his limbs, turning his figure amorphous. His form was massive enough to puncture the sky, and he absorbed every cloud he touched until they became part of him, rain and lightning swirling inside a chasm of darkness and grief.
With each step he left behind, cracks splintered the ground and opened to swallow what was left into an empty, endless gulf. Corin heard distant animal cries behind her, and as she looked back at Autumnland, the island slowly sank into a white void.
The dreams were collapsing. Creatures that once terrorized her screamed as they tumbled into the void and disappeared forever. Trees that previously shrouded the island and scratched her limbs were sucked into the chasm, leaving no trace behind. The nothingness spread like disease beyond the shores so that even the sand surrounding them crumbled to dust. Corin backed away from the void, realizing it would reach her too. Her hold on Elly tightened as she turned the other way and ran. For the first time in their fragile lives, she didn’t want to disappear.
? ? ?
THEY COULD NO longer find Ezran by the time they reached Summerland, and it both relieved and terrified Corin. Her chest wanted to collapse over her entire body from how heavily she panted in exhaustion, but her hand grasped the amulet tucked safely underneath her shirt, a reminder that she needed to find Briar Rose before Ezran would. Yet every time she touched the gem, it became less of a resolution and more of a worry. She could not tell if Malicine’s magic contained in this tiny rock would be enough to save them all. It wasn’t even enough to heal Elly’s wounds.
When they reached the emptied shore, the gash in her sister’s leg had widened farther. Her skin had split open not to reveal flesh and bone, but a white mass of space, just like the disappearing land that surrounded them.
No, Elly couldn’t disappear. Corin wouldn’t allow it.
“You’re going to be okay, El,” she said, still carrying her sister on her back. Despite her attempt to stay calm, her voice rose in panic as sand dissolved behind her steps. She hauled them both through jungle foliage and tangled vines, sights that should have been familiar, except the picture was now askew. Apricots had fallen from trees and split open to reveal swarms of ants and rot. Tropical flowers had shriveled into wilted petals and sagging leaves. She felt the first chill of Summerland as the sun above the canopy blinked like a dying light, and she knew then she would no longer feel warmth from this land.
In the corner of her bleary vision, apricot juice stained the vegetation like orange paint. She stared at the misshaped circle bleeding into the roots and heard her mother’s voice grow fainter in her memory. Look, Corin. You just made the sun.
But the sun was dying. Clouds had already choked out the star, leaving them shivering in the cold.
“I’m slowing you down,” Elly said. “There’s no point in carrying me. We both know I’m not—”
“Just shut up and hold on to me, El!” Corin’s voice cracked in desperation.
She soon learned how ill-equipped she was to travel with the added weight on her back and her exhausted condition. Sweat dripped down the side of her temple, and her panting turned to strained breaths. Birds flew over their heads and scattered to dust the moment their wings reached the void. If she could outpace the nothingness, surely she would reach something else. But things were no longer making sense. Rain poured from the ground upward to the sky, and wildflowers sprouted in the air without any roots. Branches grew out of fruit, and when her boots stepped on them, they snapped into crystal fragments and vanished.
The weather jumbled itself together, blazing hot one minute, freezing cold in another. She thought the sky might collapse on them next. If it did, she still would not let Elly go.
? ? ?
DUST PERMEATED THE air to the point where Corin had to instruct Elly to rub her eyes when they reached Springland. The particles came from dandelion seeds whipping through the meadows like a tornado. Fuchsia colors from flowers dulled to browned petals, each one wilted to crisps. Corin struggled to balance her legs on top of rolling hills that swayed like ocean waves. The world could not make sense of itself, and in her dizziness, she collapsed forward.
They both rolled down the hill and thudded against the oak tree that had frozen over in ice. Corin bent over and groaned, fighting nausea in an ever-changing landscape. Elly had to shake her by the shoulders to pull her attention ahead of them.
Across withering fields and dying trees, a cottage had collapsed in a tornado of broken wood and shattered stones. The lace parasol that once acted as a makeshift rooftop had been ripped apart, the strings of fabric hanging on splinters like defeated flags. At the porch, a long table caved in at the center. Neither Briar nor the animals could be seen.
“Check if she’s in the dollhouse,” Elly urged. “I’ll stay here.”
“I won’t leave you—”
“I know. But you can take a break from carrying me.”
Corin couldn’t think of a good argument, so she got up to approach the cottage, keeping an eye on Elly and the white void growing in her sister’s leg. Her shoes crunched against broken teapots and shattered glass. She called for Briar as she surveyed the debris and sorted through rubble.
A small rumble of stones caught her attention. She lunged toward the noise and dug through the pile until tufts of fur emerged from debris. Penny, once the color of caramel candy, blended far too closely with the dirt surrounding her. Her ears tucked over her snout, her eyes closed in sleep. Only Dime had awoken, barely, his dark pupils glazed in slits.
“Didn’t anyone tell you? The tea party is over,” he said. “We ran out of time.”
“I’ll carry you,” Corin said, a desperate response that spilled from her lips before logic could fill in the gaps. There was no way she could lift both Elly and the animals to safety. The entire world was collapsing, and she thought she could still carry every burden on her shoulders.
She tried holding Dime until claws scratched her fingers and she yelped in pain. Dime only responded with a hiss.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” Corin cried.
She could no longer make out words as he meowed in response. He seemed smaller now, a regular cat with no clothes or human speech. He continued pawing at Corin’s hand, trying to communicate something to her, yet hissed if she tried to move him. The cat curled in a ball next to Penny, and Corin realized they’d been nestled in a woven basket. The wood splints were frayed, but they were with each other, and that was enough. Penny never opened her eyes, and Dime refused to leave her side.
“You’re ready to go,” Corin whispered.
Resignation settled on her shoulders. She watched the void stretch across hills and blossoms turn white before disintegrating to dust. The nothingness loomed over the dollhouse, and still the animals slept in peace together. She scanned the field for the last patches of wildflowers and plucked them from withering grass. Her fingers carefully spread daisies across the basket. Her palm grazed the spot behind Dime’s ear, and from his lack of reaction, she knew it was time.
The void streamed toward the dollhouse like a river. Up close, the abyss appeared like light, clear and vivid. Carefully, she placed the basket on the white expanse and backed away. The void cradled Penny and Dime as if the basket floated on invisible water. Waves swallowed them as they disintegrated like starlight, a faint memory that existed once upon a dream.
She vowed to herself that she wouldn’t forget. Not the animals, or the cottage, or any of the seasons that disappeared before her eyes. She turned back to Elly, the one person she could count on being tethered to her forever. Panic struck when the oak tree had sank into the white fissure, and Elly was nowhere to be found.
“El?” Corin shouted. “El! Where are you?!”
Her boots stomped over chipped teacups and rotting grass. She raced through the disappearing meadow, her heart wanting to rip from her chest. Elly couldn’t be gone. Corin could make her real, as solid as flesh and bone. She clenched her eyes shut and focused on their connection. She had conjured her sister in these dreams, which meant she could do it again and keep her. Her skin, her voice, her heart. Everything Corin was so desperate to hold.
There it was, a tiny drum of a heartbeat. Slow and faint, but enough to pull Corin toward the sunflower maze behind the cottage. Her legs strained to catch up to the endless stretch of stems that continued multiplying. The sunflower stalks had grown thick and tall, blocking the little sunlight left from the broken sky. The haze of yellow turned brown and swallowed her up in dusk. But the dark could not hide Elly. They were tethered, after all, and Corin could tell when she was about to lose a piece of herself.
She found her sister curled over a pile of wilted sunflowers. Elly’s black hair looked like roots making their way back to soil. The hole in her leg had grown wider, taking over her torso, then her chest, the fading beat of her heart that never truly existed.
“El,” Corin whispered, cradling her sister.
It always came back to this. Finding Elly’s body. Not reaching her in time. There was never enough time.
Elly’s lashes fluttered as she barely opened her eyes. “Corin,” she managed to say. Her breaths came out faint and shallow. Foolish hope rose in Corin’s chest anyway.
“El. El, please. Don’t leave me.” Corin wiped tears from her face and clutched Elly’s face with wet hands. “It’s going to be fine. I’ll find Briar Rose. She’ll open a new portal. We’ll make a new world, and we’ll be safe, and happy, and everything will be okay. I promise, El. I’m never going to let you go.”
Corin thought it had been Elly trembling until her sister placed a hand on her arm, stilling her.
“I’m already gone, Corin.”
“But you don’t have to be,” she begged. “We can still be together.”
Corin clung tighter, but Elly felt too light, like a candle flame one breath away from disappearing. Her sister gave a tender squeeze to Corin’s hand.
“We had fun, but it’s time for me to rest.” Her voice was so gentle it split Corin’s heart in pieces. “You can let go now. It’s okay.”
Corin could feel her sister fading, yet something pulled Elly still, a taught string. Slow understanding washed over Corin like an ocean wave. Elly, who never had the patience for anything, had waited for her all this time.
Deep down, Corin knew this moment would come. She had evaded it for so long, distracting herself with fiery anger and self-loathing, petty arguments and desperate promises. Her avoidance had only prolonged the inevitable pain. And so, slowly, she loosened her grip. Finger by finger, each bone in her hand weighing down on Elly’s flesh, she forced herself to lift off.
Her tears fell on Elly’s cheeks. They pressed into the girl’s skin and left tiny holes like constellations. Light poured from Elly’s lips as they parted for a whisper.
“I hope someday,” she said, “you’ll love yourself as much as you loved me.”
Corin nodded, quietly weeping, and leaned down to press a soft kiss to Elly’s forehead. She placed Elly back in the soil and watched her sister’s face shift to permanence. Her lashes drooped over her starry cheeks, and her lips opened to a small part where her last breath escaped.
Elly never opened her eyes again. But she looked peaceful, like she had been tired for a very long time, and could finally sleep.
Withered sunflowers trembled from the wind. Brown petals unfurled and smoothed over their wrinkles, as if waking up to a breeze. Their stalks lifted from the ground and carried Elly’s body in a bed of leaves. The smell of fresh soil wafted in the air, and for a moment, the sky washed over in yellow, like sunlight spilling across the atmosphere.
The flowers grew tall enough to reach the sun. At the first trickle of light, they burst into stars. Bright shimmers painted the atmosphere before the fractures of sky appeared again. The last stalk floated toward the void, revealing a fox waiting behind the maze. Cracks formed in his clay skin, but he was still whole, his brown eyes gazing upon Corin.
With the flick of his tail, he turned around and hopped away, melting into the light. So, too, did Springland disappear.