Chapter Thirty-Three
Lights and sounds came to me slowly. I’d never felt so weak. Rain and thunder sounded in the distance, and I fought against the darkness that threatened to drag me to its depths.
Owen. I wanted to see Owen. He was nearby. I could feel him somehow. It took everything I had, but I managed to open my eyes a little and slide them to the side, seeking him.
There. Standing next to my bed, talking to two others. His voice was hoarse; his face, pale; his clothes, torn and covered in blood. As he spoke, his gaze strayed toward me, as if seeking reassurance I still breathed. Their words drifted toward me as I fell in and out of consciousness.
“…safe here. Neamh’s magic will heal you both.”
“…didn’t think it was possible.”
“If she makes it through the…”
“…should rest as well.”
“Not until she’s out of…”
“…second bed beside…”
“No need.”
The people with him were not dressed like nurses or doctors, and from what I could see of the room, it didn’t look like a hospital.
It didn’t matter. Owen was here. I could sleep.
I surfaced again, rising through dark water. Rain pattered against a window in a gentle rhythm, wrapping around me like a lullaby. My vision swam at first, then slowly focused. I could make out low wooden beams, a worn armchair, and a small table with an empty plate and mug.
There was a weight beside me, stretched along my length, and an arm resting across my stomach. Owen’s breath tickled my neck where his head nestled. Even in his sleep, he kept me close. Protected me.
He must have showered and changed, and the cuts on his face seemed partly healed. His breathing was deep and even, and I watched him for as long as I could, until my eyes felt too heavy to keep open.
Wherever we were, I was home.
The third time I opened my eyes, it wasn’t Owen beside me; it was Charles. He sat in a chair, his head on his chest while he snored, a walking stick resting between his legs.
Warmth flooded through me as I realized that not only was Charles alive, he was alive and well. My fingers twitched toward him. I needed him to look at me. Just to be sure.
He snorted, waking himself up, and raised his eyes to mine. His face broke into a wide grin.
“Welcome back, Ms. Kira,” he said, his eyes misty. “Gave this old man quite the scare, you did.”
I tried speaking, but I could barely open my mouth. Charles anticipated my questions.
“Shh, Ms. Kira. Don’t try to speak. You’ve been asleep almost four days now. Thought Owen was going to tear this place apart with his worry. He’s just stepped out for a moment. He’ll be back soon. Boy doesn’t leave your side for long. Been an absolute bear to everyone.”
At the thought of Owen rampaging around on my behalf, I smiled as much as my weak facial muscles would allow. I couldn’t wait to see him.
“I’m okay,” he continued, once again answering my unspoken questions. Then again, he probably had the same ones when he woke in this place.
“Let’s see. Oh, Jace and Shae are fine. Enjoying their new accommodations. Which brings me to your next question: Where exactly are we? Well, you’re no longer in Canada, that’s for sure.”
I looked around, noting the rough-hewn timbers overhead and the small paned window letting in soft light. Definitely not a hospital.
He turned at a sound behind him. “Ah, there he is now. Knew he wouldn’t be long.”
I looked past Charles to the doorway, and there was Owen, head bowed as he ran a hand through his hair.
When our eyes met, the look on his face undid me.
Relief, disbelief, love, fear, gratitude.
Exhaustion etched into every line. Every one of his emotions collided at once, and for a few heartbeats, we simply gazed at each other.
Then he strode to my side, took hold of my hand, and brought it to his lips, his eyes full of tears.
“Hey,” he whispered, his voice breaking on that single word.
I wanted to tell him not to worry, that I was okay. Or, at least, that I would be. I wanted to tell him that I had heard his stories, but all I could manage was a weak squeeze of his hand.
I was vaguely aware of Charles shuffling away and leaving us alone, his walking stick tapping lightly against the floor. Why didn’t he need his walker?
“Almost lost you.” Owen swallowed hard.
I nodded. At least, I think I did.
“You need more sleep, love. You used all your energy, both human and magical, to close that portal.”
Samhain. Owen needed to know that Craos would return on the first of November. It was almost the end of September now, which left barely any time to do…what? What could we do? Tears of frustration burned behind my eyes. We were wasting time, and I couldn’t tell him anything.
“Hey, easy there,” Owen soothed. “Kira, trust that I’ve got you. The only thing you need to worry about right now is resting. Okay? Can you do that for me, love? I have a plan, but I need you to heal first.”
Of course, Owen had a plan. I should have known. I managed a small smile, and Owen closed his eyes as if his prayers had been answered.
Sleep threatened to overwhelm me, but I fought to stay awake. I wanted to talk about what happened.
Owen smoothed the hair off my brow and kissed my hand. “There will be time for more answers later.”
I tried to tell him that I loved him.
“I know, love, I know you love me,” he said. “I love you, too.”
There was nothing else I could do. Owen had a plan, and I would trust him.
More days passed, and I continued to regain my strength at a speed that shouldn’t have been possible given that I had died only a week ago. My voice gradually returned, and I was able to move my limbs and sit up in bed.
Shae brought sunshine every time she visited.
Her eyes sparkled, her laughter soft yet bright, and I couldn’t help but return her smiles.
We sat side by side on the bed, leaning against the headboard while we chatted or scrolled on her new phone.
Sometimes I would doze off and wake to find her still pressed against me.
My breathing always felt easier when she was near.
Owen and I talked about what had happened by the river and in the Veil. How his stories had brought me back from the other side and how, after we clasped hands, we had returned to our bodies. Jace and Shae had woken up and found themselves mostly healed soon after.
A nearby tree had granted the four of us access to the Root Path, and my friends had walked for almost a full day, each holding one of my hands, while Owen had carried my unconscious body, following the lights to a yew tree in Fortingall, Scotland.
I snuggled deeper into Owen’s arms as he lay beside me, his fingers trailing along my back like he couldn’t stop touching me, like he still couldn’t believe I was alive.
“Where’s Charles? Why hasn’t he come to see me again?”
Owen fingers stilled and then started moving again.
“He’s not here, Kira. At least not as we knew him. I think…well, I haven’t seen him.”
“He was here,” I insisted. “The other day, when I woke up. I know it was him.”
“I heard him in the Veil, love. He helped me save you, told me what to do once we held hands, but I don’t think…I don’t think he’s alive. I think he died the night the portal opened.”
A sob racked my body. “I failed him.”
“No. No. Don’t ever think that. He was never in Craos’s realm. He was never suffering and thank God for that. He’s out there, though. Somewhere. Having a grand adventure. Maybe you’ll see him again.”
The thought made me smile, but then I burrowed into Owen’s arms and cried as I mourned the loss of my friend.
“I’m so sorry, Owen,” I said at last, wiping my tears. “It’s all my fault.”
“Kira, no—”
“It is! I touched the stone. My magic opened the portal. He’d still be alive—”
“Kira, look at me.” Owen tilted my chin up. “I know you’ve suffered a lot of loss in your life, but none of it is your fault. I don’t blame you, and if Charles was here, he wouldn’t blame you, either. Please forgive yourself.”
“You won’t get to hear your granddad’s stories.”
“Then you’ll have to tell them. Will you do that for me, love?”
“Of course.”
“Good. Why don’t you tell me one right now?”
“Okay.” I dried my eyes as I imagined Charles in his favourite chair, holding a cup of tea in one hand while his other gestured wildly, his eyes bright with excitement. “Have you heard the one about the camels?”
I told Owen his grandfather’s stories well into the night, paying tribute to an incredible man. Somewhere between the mountain trek in Nepal and the ferry that almost sunk in Peru, I felt like Charles had joined us. I could almost hear his laugh echoing throughout the room.
I’ll keep your stories alive, I promised him silently.
I know you will, Ms. Kira, I imagined him replying. Look after my grandson.
Always, I thought, looking up at Owen as he smiled at me, the twinkle in his eyes so much like his grandfather’s. Always.
The first time Freya bustled into my room, a tray with tea, toast, and soup balanced on her hand, I sat up quickly.
“Waterstone Guardian! I mean, Freya… What…who…how are you?”
She shushed me and chuckled, laying a hand on my forehead and fluffing my pillow after she placed the tray on my lap. “Have some soup.”
I stared at her.
“One question for every three sips or bites of food,” she suggested and I nodded, taking my first sip of the soup while watching her wide-eyed.
I managed two bites of the toast but barely tasted them. I had so many questions, but only one that truly mattered.
“Your vision… I failed. The darkness is still inside me. I can feel it.”
Freya arched an eyebrow. “That’s not a question, but I’ll humour you.
My vision was more symbolic than literal.
You needed to prove to both of us that you could look beyond your blood ties to Craos, determine your true self, and make your own decisions.
I wasn’t sure how you would choose to dispel your dark magic once you faced Craos, but at the river, you resisted him, pushed him from your body, and saved your friends. I’d say you did quite well.”
I blushed at her praise and took three more bites.
“The seal is gone. What do we do now?”
She hesitated for a moment, then gave me a faint smile. “Honestly, I’m not sure. The other Guardians and I spent thousands of years waiting for you and protecting our stones. We never considered that re-forming the seal wasn’t the solution.”
Three more spoonfuls of soup.
“I wasn’t given a test by the Rootstone Guardian. I’ve been wondering…”
She tilted her head at me. “Are you sure you weren’t tested? Strength of character. Patience. Resilience in the face of hardships. I’d say you were tested and found worthy, or you wouldn’t have gotten the Rootstone.”
I bit my lip. “Am I worthy?”
She looked pointedly at my tray, and I quickly took three more bites. Then I kept eating because the food was making me feel better.
“Your worth can only be determined by you. It is not for anyone else to say, nor should their opinions matter. Self-worth is an internal truth, not an external judgment.”
“Then why would the Guardians even test me? I’d say that was external judgment.”
“Aye. We needed to make sure you would use the stones well. That you were more than your dark power. But only you know your story, your struggles, your intentions and growth. You can draw strength from loved ones, but in the end, it will be you, and you alone, who needs to believe you made the right choices. Stay true to yourself. Now rest. You’re going to need it. ”
“Why?”
She removed the tray with its empty dishes and gave me a soft smile. “Physically, you are almost fully recovered, but soon your real healing begins.”