What kind of creature might she connect with? Nerves and excitement danced in her stomach.
They sparred for a few minutes before her father straightened. “That’s enough for today, Isla.” He beamed with pride. “My daughter is going to be a better warrior than I am.” He pulled her into the crook of his arm, and it felt familiar and easy. Like home. She smiled, knowing her training had paid off. She had been practicing in her room, repeating all the moves he taught her.
Together, they walked down the sloped trail through the forest. And as Isla moved...the forest bloomed. Flowers opened at herapproach, vines swung in her path, creatures crawled down from their branches to look at her.
They walked side by side, her father laughing as she animatedly told him about a glowing frog she had found in her latest explorations through the forest, until they reached the closest village.
The preparation for tonight was in full swing. A Wildling stood in the middle of the street, painting each house with ivy and wisteria and roses. When Isla approached, she turned. “The guest of honor has arrived,” she yelled playfully.
Isla blushed. Her father smiled down at her reassuringly.
A Wildling woman burst from her home down the street. She was holding a small flower in the brightest pink Isla had ever seen. “Tell me I’m the first,” she said.
“You’re the first, Wren,” her father replied, laughing.
Wren got down in front of Isla, smiling. “Then may I offer you, Isla, your first bonding day flower?”
Isla nodded, unable to stop herself from grinning. Wren carefully tucked the flower into Isla’s hair. “There. Perfect,” she said.
“She was perfect to begin with,” her father said, and she knew he meant it. Her heart swelled at his words.
Wren shook her head and stood to face her father. “You’ll put your blade through anyone who breaks her heart, won’t you?”
“I won’t have to,” he said, ruffling Isla’s hair. “She’ll stab them herself. Isn’t that right?”
Isla nodded happily, the thought of love and heartbreak sounding so far away.
Wren clicked her tongue and motioned for them to keep walking. It seemed every step, she was offered another flower, from everyone they passed. The stems were tucked right into her hair, until her loose brown curls were smothered by glorious color.
Finally, they reached the end of the town and ventured farther through the glades. Toward the river.
And there, seated on Lynx, was her mother.
Her hair was full of wildflowers. It always was, not just on days of celebration. And when she saw Isla and her father, the blooms doubled, tripled, dripping down past her elbows. The flowers reflected her mood—her dad always said that he knew he was in trouble when she was wrapped in thorns. But today, her mother’s smile was the pure radiance of unfiltered happiness.
“How was training?” she asked, as she slid down Lynx.
“Our girl is just as skilled as her mother,” her father said, staring at his wife like he would never tire of looking at her.
Isla’s mother beamed. “So, we’re both better than her father, then?”
His smile grew. “In every single way,” he said. He leaned down to pick Isla up, and they both hugged her mother. Isla laughed as the flowers in her mother’s hair grew even more, and as her father’s shadows wrapped snugly around them all.
And they were happy. Perfectly, endlessly happy.
Isla gasped and choked on the silver water as she surfaced. The stars above blurred as she blinked, her mind still whirling with what she had seen. A sob wracked her chest—she had already faced the reality of the harshness of her childhood, but now she mourned the upbringing she could have had. If only she hadn’t killed her parents....
The Pool of Possibilities...it was cruel. Showing her how happy she could have been in another life. But there was no way for her to have that. It wasn’t real.
As if hearing her thoughts, the woman said from the shore, “But it is.”
Isla frowned, and felt a surge of anger for this stranger. “How can it be?” she demanded, wading toward the edge. “My parents are dead. I...Ikilled them.”
The woman’s expression softened. She took Isla’s hand once she was close enough to reach. “With your flair, you didn’t just capturetheir powers, Isla. You captured theirsouls. They live in you. They can speak to you in a place like this. It isreal.”
Part of her was really with her mother and father. That love...that endless, unconditional love...it lived in her.
As if in proof, the pool became a field of wildflowers that brushed against her ankles. She looked up to see her mother, sitting in front of her. Isla watched as her green eyes filled with tears.
