Chapter Thirty
Ena
Ena made her way back to their camp but found it unoccupied upon her return.
Figuring Ty and Turner must’ve still been waiting to speak to the matriarch, she began collecting downed sticks and branches and used her spellword to start a fire.
She sat next to it to absorb its warmth, listening to the nearby stream trickle as she ate some food and rested.
Sometime around sunset, Ty and Turner returned. Her eyes were drawn by the shuffling of their feet through the snow, and her stupid heart leaped automatically when she saw Ty.
The way he walked, so assured and in control, drew her to him—but it was painful too. Painful to see him, want him, and not be able to have him.
His gaze met hers, his light-green eyes reflecting extra light from the layer of snow around them, glowing, and she forced herself to look away, remembering what he’d said to her the last time they’d spoken alone.
How he felt like he’d failed her. She didn’t know how to even begin to fix that perception, or if she even should.
Did it matter if they were on the same page about why exactly they couldn’t be together?
What was most important was that they couldn’t. End of story.
Not for the first time, Ena loathed how complicated this all was. But one day, she knew, it would be over. They’d break the bond…and then go their separate ways, and the sudden thought of that wrenched Ena’s heart so painfully that she almost clutched at it.
And suddenly, as much as it ached not being with him, she found herself grateful for it. Because at least, for now, she still got to be near him.
Facing the fire again, she cleared her throat before speaking to Turner as he joined her by the fire. “How did it go with the matriarch?” she asked.
“Good,” he said. “She was open to looking at the goods we have to trade in exchange for some additional supplies and potions.”
She looked over to see Ty checking on the horses where they were tethered several feet away, stroking one of their necks gently. Why wasn’t he coming over? Didn’t he want to hear about how things had gone at Cris’s house?
“How did it go leaving the message?” Turner asked, drawing her attention back to him and away from what she couldn’t have.
“Fine,” she replied. “No issues, and I left the note, so only time will tell if he—”
A branch snapped in the distance, but Ena could tell it hadn’t come from Ty or the horses—neither of whom had moved.
Ty looked over at them both with a clear warning in his eyes. He could hear with his venator—someone was coming.
Ena stood up as Ty moved over to join them by the fire. Was it Cris coming? Or someone else?
After a few seconds, Ena heard more movement from the dark of the woods until she could make out a figure approaching through the dim evening light. The orange flames of their fire lit upon a head of pale-blond hair, and she let out her breath.
It was Cris. He’d actually come.
“Cris!” she said, approaching him, relief and tension surging through her all at once.
“Ena!” he said, his eyes finally finding her in the dark. He rushed towards her as if to hug her, but paused, his pale-blue eyes going round as saucers as he took in her appearance. “Gaia, Ena, what happened to you? Are you alright?”
She looked up at him. He was tall—not as tall as Ty or Turner, but she still had to angle her neck to meet his gaze.
He looked healthy and good, and part of her hesitated yet again.
Was this the right thing? Bringing him into this?
She sighed, steeling herself, because deep down, she knew there was no other option.
“I’m fine,” she replied, trying for a reassuring smile. “It’s good to see you.”
“You too,” he said, grasping her upper arms and pulling her in for a hug.
She saw Ty move closer to them out of the corner of her eye, but Turner gave them space, lingering back by the fire.
“What’s going on?” Cris asked when he released her, his voice concerned.
“I got your note, and I didn’t tell anyone, just like you asked, but last I heard, you’d been taken by…
” His voice trailed off as he looked over her shoulder to where Ty stood ominously behind her, as if truly noticing him and Turner for the first time.
Cris pulled her a few steps away, and Ena went with him willingly, knowing that Ty would still be able to hear them regardless.
“Who are these men you’re with? Ena—are you safe?” Cris whispered.
“Cris, slow down,” she said, trying to be reassuring. “Yes, I’m safe with them. I’m fine. I know the…bruises and everything look bad, but they’re not because of these men at all. That was…someone else.”
Cris nodded, seeming slightly reassured, but still thoroughly confused. “Then where have you been? Why aren’t you with your Coven?” he asked, his voice still hushed.
“Cris,” she began, reaching out to touch his arm in a friendly way.
“Thank you so much for coming.” She felt like this was an important thing to start with.
It really did mean a lot that he’d come.
She couldn’t imagine the rumors that must be spreading about her after everything that had happened on Samhain when she was taken.
“I know you have questions, and I want to explain them all to you. Can we sit by the fire?”
“With them?” he asked, eyeing them suspiciously. “Ena, please tell me they’re mortals.”
She sighed. She knew this would be incredibly tough for him to understand, and she didn’t even know where to start, but she figured the truth was a good bet.
“They’re not mortals, they’re daemons. And yes, what I have to tell you concerns them, and all of us—witches, daemons, and mortals. I know this is…a lot. I’m so sorry to dump this on you out of the blue. But I need your help. Will you listen to me?”
Cris hesitated, looking between her and the daemons. She wanted to elbow Ty in the stomach and tell him to wipe the threatening look off his face, because it definitely wasn’t helping. But Cris was clearly intrigued enough, or trusted her enough, because he gave her a small nod.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll listen.”
He walked with her over to the fire and the two of them sat down. Turner threw a couple more logs onto the blaze, but they didn’t catch right away because of how soggy and cold everything was.
Looking up at Ena pointedly, Turner reached out, touching the fresh logs with his hands as he called upon his Power. His hands began to glow a deep red, and the logs smoked for a few seconds until they finally burst into hearty flames.
“Whoa,” Cris said, watching it. He eyed Turner curiously, cautiously. “I’ve never seen anything like that. I guess that’s your…”
“Power,” Turner finished for him. “Yes.”
“I see,” Cris responded suspiciously, clearly trying to process all this information without freaking out. “And what can he do?” he asked, nodding towards Ty, who thus far refused to sit and was standing by the fire with his arms crossed like a hellhound guarding the entrance to the Underworld.
“You don’t want to know,” Ty replied, in what was quite possibly the least friendly tone she’d ever heard him use—including when he’d pretended not to know who she was and kidnapped her.
Ena had to hold back her eye roll.
“Okay…” Cris said, mistrust in his voice.
She needed to rescue this situation—fast.
“Cris, look,” she began. “I’m about to tell you something that you might not believe at first, but I want you to remember that you know me. I’m not a liar, and I’m not a fool.”
“Of course I know that, Ena,” he said, reaching out to take her hand. “I may not trust them at all, but I’m here, I’m listening.”
Ena felt comforted by her friend’s presence, and his willingness to listen, so she began.
“The things we’ve been taught about daemons aren’t true,” she began. “Well, some of them are true, but not all of them.”
Cris was quiet, his brow furrowed as he listened, but he didn’t ask any questions, so Ena continued.
“Before I was…taken by these daemons, Heran told me that daemons and witches actually come from the same source of magic. That Gaia and Iblis came together to grant us our magic, and that some Gifts and Powers can be shared among them. Did you know that?”
“No,” Cris said, shaking his head in confusion. “But I did hear about your unusual Gift. Thyla told me on Samhain, before Heran’s house caught fire and you disappeared.”
“Yes, exactly. It’s because of this shared source of magic that I have my Gift. But there’s more… The split we’ve been told about, the fact that daemons chose to serve Iblis and not Gaia, is a lie. They didn’t choose to serve Iblis alone, they were forced.”
“Forced?” Cris asked, scoffing. “Who could possibly force them?”
“Witches,” Ty said from where he stood, raising an eyebrow in challenge at her friend.
“Witches forced them to serve Iblis? You really expect me to believe that?” Cris said mockingly.
“I had a vision,” Ena said, drawing his attention back to her. “From Gaia. I saw the past. The witches used a magical amulet to bind the daemons to Iblis and cut them off from Gaia’s magic. And Heran confirmed it. It’s the truth.”
“You’re serious?” Cris asked, his face turning grave. “You really received a vision from Gaia?”
Ena nodded, pleased that she seemed to be getting through to him.
“Why in the Underworld would witches even do that?”
“Because they didn’t trust us,” Ty chimed in again. “And they wanted to maintain their power over the mortal villages.”
Ena could see that Cris’s immediate reaction was to defend witches as he opened his mouth, and she didn’t want this to deteriorate, so she gave Ty a shut-the-fuck-up look and drew Cris’s attention back to her.
“Look, I know this is hard to believe. But I saw it, and Heran confirmed it. It was witches who forced daemons into the Underworld.”
“Okay… Say I believe you,” Cris began. “That doesn’t erase all the evil things daemons have done—disrupting the balance, killing, thieving, destroying. Maybe they do deserve to be there.”