Chapter 39
Thirty-Nine
Samaria
Ruse has been at my heels since the moment Sorin left. Biting gently, pulling my cloak, and when I finally conceded, she sprinted from the Jade Guild barking at the puppies behind us.
She now leads the way up a small hill, the four wolves running beside me. It’s only been a few miles but with the rain and the mud, the terrain has been torturous. I stop for a moment to catch my breath.
The puppies stop as well, but Ruse does not. She disappears over the edge of a small hill just as a wave of fog begins to settle over us.
“Sorin!” I shout breathlessly, weaving around fallen branches and knotted roots, the fog limiting my visibility.
Hati, Skoll, and Grey lead the way, Rook stays at my side, keeping pace with me. I curse myself for not training the last few weeks as I make the final descent down the hill, the burning in my lungs a momentary distraction from the erratic beat of my heart.
My mind drifts to Agnes as Rook and I stumble over another knotted branch. I right myself, dusting off my breeches. Letting my mother leave without me had been one of the most difficult decisions, but with Tallulah, Evren, and the twins joining her to the Onyx Guild, I suppose she’s more protected than ever.
Smoke fills the air below us, scorched trees and burnt earth come into view but there’s something else tugging at my middle.
Ruse howls, the sound breaking the eerie silence of the forest as I slide down the rest of the hill. Wiping my hands clean of mud, I rush toward the wolves. They stand in a half circle, bouncing lightly on their feet. But what stops my breath is the sight of a spirit in their mix.
Her red hair is faint, her skin glowing much like Elwyn’s, and when I approach, she doesn’t turn to me. Flicking my wrists up, I open the portal between us, giving her the option to speak but as I do, she dissipates so quickly I don’t have the chance to pass a message.
As I join the rest of the wolves, I drop to my knees. “Sorin!”
Blood covers the ground beneath him, his eyes have gone glassy and his lips dry and pale, and when I glance to his chest, it is frozen. Still. Unbeating and unmoving.
“No, no, no” I whisper, placing his head in my lap.
“No.” I press my hand to his chest, hopeful to find a beat there and when it is vacant I choke on a sob. All the resentment I’ve felt for him the last few weeks mocks me. How silly it all seems now.
Acid burns my throat as I crumple forward, encasing his body with mine. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, the words sticking to my tongue as if I don’t deserve to say them aloud.
Leaves tumble past us but not as cold as one would expect from this time of year. Warm. Comfortable. Tearing my eyes from Sorin, the forest transforms before me. The sun peeks through a somber sky and with it, the clouds disperse, leaving nothing but milky gray. The wind whips again, this time creating a tunnel of leaves and branches around the two of us. The wolves howl, but it sounds so far away. As if they’ve been transported somehow. Or we have.
My head dizzies from the spinning leaves. From the lack of movement in my brother’s chest. From the devastation I know this will bring my mother. I grip him tighter, holding onto his body as if I can somehow change this.
There’s a certain silence that only happens right after death. Thick and tense, as if the world around us has paused, but the leaves continue spinning, trapping us inside. Reminding me that while my brother is dead, the world continues.
And how unfair is it? That the forest dares to breathe and live while he can no longer.
Magick itches at my palms, and I wonder what would happen if I used it. How he would look. If his spirit would be here.
My body trembles as tears spill down my cheeks. A pitiful cry leaves me as I clutch him tighter.
He’s gone.
The pain in my chest sharpens, but as I readjust Sorin in my lap, my breath hitches. His eyes have rolled closed but that isn’t what’s drawn my attention. It’s barely there, but as I squint, I swear I see it.
Movement.
I press my hand into his chest, just as the leaves around us begin to move faster. The twigs and branches whiz in circles around us, buzzing with life despite their dried and dead appearance. My hand shakes against his chest, but I close my eyes and wait.