Chapter 45
Forty-Five
Elora
The man before me closes his eyes, whispering things under his breath. There’s a flutter in my otherwise vacant chest, faint and delicate, and yet it holds more power than that of all the Wood.
I don’t know why, but I take a step forward, allowing the thorns and vines to drop around me, and press my lips against his again. His body jumps before it relaxes against mine.
Images flash through my mind as quick and bright as lightning. Strobing in and out, in and out leaving me little time to linger on any of them for very long.
We’re there, this man and I, standing on a balcony, overlooking a sea of people.
Then the memory flips, and we’re stuck in a storm, his hand desperately searching for mine. He never finds it.
My body relaxes and as it does, the man kisses me again, placing his hands along my back.
The images don’t stop, if anything they grow more and more intense the deeper he kisses me.
We’re together again, but now our hair has grown white and our skin has become wrinkled. I watch myself as I kiss him then, softly on his weathered cheek. He smiles at me and that fluttering in my chest happens again.
The memory persists, but now we are curled around each other as we take our last breaths.
Gasping, I pull away from him, but the man holds me tight.
“Elora,” he says, his lips red from where my teeth scraped against them. His brows are pinched together, and I get the faint feeling that it’s unusual for him to look so distressed.
I let the roots and vines around him fall, and he takes full advantage, wrapping his arms tighter around me and kissing me again.
As his lips connect with mine, I see him in this life.
Across from me on a riverbank. Dark brown eyes meet mine, and even if I didn’t know it then, something snaps in me now. Something about the way he’s looking at me. Something about the line of his jaw and the bridge of his nose. Like I’ve studied him before. Have taken the time to memorize each and every part of his face, down to the very dimple on his cheek.
I kiss him deeper, tangling my fingers through his hair. A soft moan leaves his lips and so I don’t pull away. Bringing his bottom lip through my teeth.
And he kisses me too.
His hands roam my body, snagging on patches of bark and a few rogue vines. But it doesn’t stop his determination. I’m lost in his passion, barely noticing as something cold slips around my neck. A frozen sting jolts me and my eyes flash open just as a burst of light explodes around us, the trees creaking and snapping.
I jump but the man holds me tightly. He kisses me again and again until my skin begins to heat and the fluttering in my chest grows steady.
Beat.
Beat.
Beat.
He groans as I bite his bottom lip, and when we finally break away, I open my eyes and realize he’s already watching me.
I should know you.
I run my fingers along my lower lip, savoring the lingering heat of his touch, watching his face as I do. His dark eyes never leave mine. His lips are moving, his eyes wide and frantic. He’s saying something, a name.
“Soleil,” he says. “Your name was Soleil. And now it’s Elora.”
Elora.
The name turns something to my chest, and when I back away, he grabs me again. Glancing down, his arms are bloodied from where I’ve scratched him. His lips swollen and bruised from my sharpened teeth. But he raises his arm anyway and shakily places a hand upon my chest.
The forest around me groans, the trees swaying but there is no breeze. He lets out a long sigh, his shoulders slumping forward, his hand still on my chest, pushing against the steady beat now happening from inside of me.
My eyes gloss over.
I should remember you.
I’m lost in the confusion of it all. How did I get here and how did this man find me? For a moment, I question the memories. Surely a trick of the wood. But when the man tucks a piece of hair behind my ear, the beating in my chest intensifies.
I remember something . I just don’t know what.
“Come on, love.” He holds out his hand. Thorny brambles shoot up from the ground to create a barrier between us. He sighs, dropping his hand to his side. “Your name was Soleil Arden, I was Bastian Arden.”
That fluttering in my chest has turned from delicate to frantic. Over and over there’s a slamming against my ribs, a bruising pace.
“You’re now Elora Leigh, the first and last Dyrsjel and my—” He glances at the wolf. She nudges his hand, as if she understands him. “You’re my wife.”
“I…”
He reaches out his hand again, finding a break in the wall of thorns between us. His fingertips brush mine. We stand that way for a moment, his skin lighting a fire against my own.
“I don’t know you.” I rip my hand away. “Pay the price or?—”
He drops his head, cradling it in his hands. “I don’t need you to know me.” He glances at me again, worry forming between his brows. “I just need you to remember who you are. Think of our kiss, Elora. Think of the memories. They are not what’s coming, but what’s already been. Please—” He tries to step forward, but I raise my hand and move another wall of thorns in his path.
“I am the keeper of the Wicked Wood.” My voice amplifies and the trees shudder. “Pay my price, thief, or lose your life.”
His eyes light up and he grips the woven barrier of thorns between us, not minding the sharp edges against his palms. “What did you just call me?” There’s a hopeful desperation in his voice. “Say it again. Call me a thief again.”
Images flash behind my eyes again. This man and the river. His lips on mine in a room that’s unfamiliar. Me, cradled in his arms in these very woods.
So lost in the memories, my grip on the thorns between us falls, and he makes his way to me again. His fingers entwine with mine, heat blooming against my frozen skin. “I’ll spend the rest of my life reminding you why you fell in love with me,” he says, “but right now I just need you to remember yourself.”
He kisses my forehead and it’s the final threshold on my memories. Like a dam breaking, they wash over me. Consume me. They make me forget and remember all at the same time. I forget the pain and the fear of dying and remember what it was to live.
With him.
I drop to my knees, clawing at my chest, at the erratic beating and sharp pain.
“I have you,” he says, joining me on the ground.
“I am Elora Leigh.” My voice wavers, but he wraps me in his arms, a small flutter stirs, this time in my stomach. “And you are Sorin Rudhek.”
His body shudders against mine so I clutch him tighter.
The wolf howls again and my confusion turns to excitement because I remember. “Ruse.”
Sorin nods, his hands stroking my bare back. A gale of wind whips around us sending branches flying, dirt and rocks littering the air. We have been here before.
We have been here.
A crack of lightning illuminates the sky, bringing a memory with it.
I sit up, tears streaming down my cheeks. Mud and twigs entwine in my golden hair but that isn’t what catches my breath. I hold my hands before my face and in them are the Stones. As I bring them to my mouth, and kiss each one gently, my eyes turn from amber to gold.
My eyes snap open as I suck in in a sharp breath. I bring my hands to my mouth, now swollen and pink from our kissing. “I was…”
Sorin nods, reaching for me again. “You were the first Enchantress, love.” He hangs his head, letting out a long breath. “Our souls?—”
“Have been reborn,” I finish for him. There goes that fluttering in my chest again. “It’s you.” I trace my fingers over his face. Around his full lips, down his nose. “I remember you.”
His face breaks, leaning forward so his forehead presses against mine. “I love you.”
Beat.
Beat.
Beat.
His fingers entwine with mine again. “I knew you, even when I didn’t,” he says. “My soul craved its other half and now that I’ve found it, I refuse to let go.”
My body shudders.
“I meant it when I said I’d spend the rest of this life reminding you why you love me,” he says. “I don’t ever intend for you to forget again. I want all of you, this life and in the last.”
Beat.
Beat.
Beat.
“But I need you to do something now, Elora,” Sorin says against my hair. Screams erupt from the trees, piercing my ears. “I need you to destroy the woods.”
My head spins and chest aches, like a block of ice slowly thawing under the sun. I was dead and now I’m not. There are so many questions but no time for answers.
“We have to destroy the Wicked Wood, Elora,” Sorin demands again. “It’s the only way to ensure you’ll never be trapped here again.”
My mind races. Images from our lives past and this one blurring together. “I can’t…” I rub at my temples. “How am I to destroy it? Grawgeth said it would just grow back.” My chest tightens, pain blooming beneath my breast.
“Maybe this will help.” Sorin gestures to the necklace he’s placed around my neck. “Maybe there’s something in here that can destroy it?”
I wrap the stone in my hand and my magick stirs, drawing to life after days of death. “I…” I bring it to my lips, pushing the cold stone against my mouth, and all at once, I’m filled with magick.
Healer and Seer magick swims together. Memoria and Arma and Stormweilder magick light a fire beneath my veins. It burns and hisses, but I hold the stone close to my lips, searching until the one magick I need comes to the surface.
I suck in a sharp breath as I spin, turning toward the woods.
“Elora?” Sorin steps to my side.
Plague magick pushes forth, silencing all the others. I glance down at my arms, veins turning black.
“Elora,” Sorin says again, but I sprint forward, heading directly back to the Wicked Wood. Sorin screams my name again, following close behind, but I don’t stop until I’m right in the center of the wood. Right in the very place he just kissed me.
“Stand back,” I say over my shoulder. I have no idea if this will work. No idea if Plague magick is powerful enough to destroy the sentient wood but it’s the only option I have. The only option to ensure the Wicked Wood can never draw myself or Grawgeth back here. Without a second thought, I slam my hand down to the ground, letting the magick run through my fingertips and bury itself deep beneath the soil, into the roots of the trees.
The forest erupts. Trees hiss and sway, branches break free, and when I glance up, my heart skips a beat. The deformed, skeletal birch trees of the Wicked Wood have turned black.
“Don’t let go of me,” I say in a panic, not entirely sure what I’m doing. I grab Sorin’s arm. “Ruse, come.” She does in an instant and the three of us hold each other as I grasp the necklace and pull us out of the wood just before the trees come crumbling down.
We tumble to the ground in a heap, Sorin’s body under mine, Ruse just to my left. More and more screaming sounds from behind us, grating against my ears. I push myself off Sorin and spin toward the wood.
The bark on the trees peels back, roots seeped in black. They crash to the ground, groaning and hissing. The amulet pulses around my neck in time with my thoughts so I bring my fingers to it, giving it a gentle stroke.
“Elora?”
Glancing over my shoulder, Sorin has stood, dusting dirt and broken bits of tree limbs from his clothes and hair.
“Are you all right?” He reaches a tentative hand forward then drops it.
Ruse joins my side, her nose nuzzling my shoulder and a sense of ease washes over me. “Yes I’m all right.”
“And you remember?—”
“I do,” I say, and his dark eyes light up, his face perhaps hopeful. “I remember everything.”
His arms wrap around me with lightning speed, his lips on my neck, my forehead.
I reluctantly pull away, so many things in my mind still mixed together. “But we’re not done.”
“No,” he says through a sigh, “we’re not.”
A splintering crack sounds as a large birch tree tumbles down.
“The Fates said we must leave the Wicked Wood something, to somehow ensure they don’t grow back. To make sure Grawgeth doesn’t find herself back here. To ensure you…” He doesn’t finish the sentence but we both tense anyway.
I shiver.
“Here.” He wraps me in his cloak then takes my hand. His fingers tighten as if he needs to touch me as much as possible to remind himself I’m real. “Any ideas what the wood would want? Aside from a soul.” He smiles and it sparks something in me. The movement in my chest has taken on its regular rhythm, but his face makes it falter a beat.
“I have an idea.” Sorin follows my lead as I walk to the edge of the Wicked Wood. “I need a blade.” I glance at his back. “Or an arrow.”
He pulls his quiver, handing me an arrow without question. Ruse nuzzles my side as I slice the arrow along my palm.
I’m okay, girl.
She doesn’t believe me but doesn’t argue as I cut the line just a little longer. Gritting my teeth, I let my blood pool in my hand. “Here.” I wipe the arrow on the grass before handing it to Sorin. “You need to do the same.”
His face pales, but he does as I say, slicing a long line down his palm until it’s also full of blood.
“So do we just drop it in?” Sorin looks as though he might faint and I almost laugh.
“We bury it, give it back to Mother Gaia. Back to the earth.” There’s one spot in the forest that has yet to crumble so Sorin and I settle at a birch, dig a small hole at the base of the tree before dropping our blood in and covering it with dirt.
The tree groans, swaying from side to side. Its branches, long and spidery, thrash against the oncoming Plague magick, but for the first time since being near these woods, I don’t feel afraid. Our hands clasp together, stinging where they’ve been freshly cut. The memory of our past lives floating in my mind.
A storm, a crown, and a bargain made.
“We need to go, love.”
My toes dig into the soil, eyes transfixed on the darkness spreading through the woods. Sorin tugs my hand. With a final glance at the woods over my shoulder, my breath catches as three figures emerge, hand in hand, heads thrown back in laughter, before they disappear into the wind.
Using the amulet has become much too easy, and I start to understand how this type of power could become intoxicating.
We arrive back at the Jade Guild just as the rain begins again. Alaric and the pups were there, waiting. As if they knew we’d be back.
After changing into fresh clothes, Sorin packs a small bag with the last of the larder items. I stand in the doorway, watching as he assembles, disassembles, and reassembles the bag again. He scratches his brow and closes his eyes for a moment.
“Need some help?” He jumps at my voice then quickly relaxes as I wrap my arms around his middle from behind him.
“No,” he says, dropping the bag onto the table, “but sleep would probably do me good.”
“Dying is exhausting.”
He spins me so my face is in his chest, his chin resting atop my head. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared before.” His lips brush against my hair before he tilts my chin with my thumb.
“I was scared too. Thought for certain I’d never see this dimple again.” I press up onto my toes and kiss it which makes him smile more. “Will you tell me what happened? One day, when this is all over.”
He closes his eyes and I regret asking until lips meet mine for a gentle kiss. “I’ll tell you. I promise.” He strokes my hair, warming my chest. “I can’t believe you were my wife before,” he whispers against my ear. “I’ve never felt so relieved.”
“Relieved?”
He smiles before kissing the tip of my nose. “When we met on the river, I told you a piece of me snapped into place. And the longer we were together, my love for you became overwhelming. All-consuming. But it was mad, wasn’t it? To love someone so fiercely in such a short time.”
I dig my fingers into his back, letting my head rest against his chest. Finding comfort in the movement of his heart. In the movement of mine.
“But now it all makes so much sense,” he says. “My soul belongs to you, yours to me, and I have never felt so whole.”
A tear runs down my cheek, but Sorin dries it up with the tip of his finger. “There is still so much to be done.” My chest tightens thinking of all that’s left to do. To right the wrongs that have been done to Teravie. To ensure our bargain with Mother Gaia is paid.
“The Mother entrusted us to keep Teravie safe,” he says. “If She believes in us enough to rebirth our souls, I believe in us too.”
After finally organizing the bag enough for his liking, we meet Ruse outside.
“Are you sure it will transport us again?” Sorin asks, earning him a scowl. He laughs and begins to say something about how much he missed that face but I cut him off.
“I have no idea what this is capable of,” I remind him, holding the amulet in my fingers. “But what other choice do we have?” We’re running out of time.
Sorin nods and takes my hand. “Get closer,” I tell wolves and they do, huddling as close to me as they can. “Now, to the Onyx Guild?”
Sorin scratches his chin, his stubble more pronounced these days.“I imagine by now that Samaria has either frightened the Guild members off or she has convinced them to help.” His eyes meet mine. “Which would mean she won’t be at the Onyx Guild.”
At my puzzled look, Sorin takes my hand, lacing our fingers. “We have to go to Valebridge.”