Mary’s vines return to the earth, withering and becoming soil for the worms to feed on right before my eyes. She leaves behind a trail of marigold petals that catch a breeze that smells of woodsmoke. Of home.
As the wind picks up…they’re gone.
My hands are still before me, clutching the tokens that are the last remaining tethers I have to my friends. I had thought that I would keep them with me, always—keep them safe. When, really, I was taking them home. They might still be bound to me, but they are not slaves. They are free to go and, honestly, I wish it for them. Even if it makes my heart ache and eyes sting at the mere idea of all I’ve lost and let go of in such a short period of time—enough to make the cold that’s wrapped over my shoulders heavier than my ruby cape sink deeper into my marrow—I love my spirit friends enough to want to see them well. With me, or without.
Aurora’s eyes are glassy also as she stares at the spots where the two spirits were. I wonder what is going through her mind. From all I’ve heard, I can only imagine that she, too, is yearning for freedom. For the ability to wander as far as she pleases. For a form that will enable her to return to the origins of her essence. But unlike Folost and Mary, Aurora is trapped in her mortal body. She is hunted by the wolf king.
“This way,” Evander says, matter-of-fact, starting down a beaten path between two rolling hills. Completely oblivious that I just lost two of my dearest friends.
Bardulf lingers, arms folded, staring me down. Somehow, even at half of Evander’s weight, he manages to be more imposing.
“We should rest here,” Aurora calls after Evander, ignoring the obvious and unspoken command from Bardulf to move.
“No. We’ll rest at camp.” Evander doesn’t even look back before responding. He’s already halfway down the hill.
“Evander, she needs rest now.”
Evander pauses, looking back to me. His silvery eyes are as cold as the sliver of moon above. “Is this true? Do you need us to go easier on you, human?”
“I can persist just fine.” I am amazed my words are even as I fight chattering teeth. The night is colder in Midscape, I think. Vaguely, a part of my mind wonders what else is different in this world. But I can’t summon the energy to be as enthusiastic about discovering such things as I know I should be.
“Good. We should get across the narrow strait while Gruvun still waits.” Evander continues forward.
Aurora gives me a worried look but I offer a nod of assurance. She begrudgingly follows behind Evander, in front of me. Bardulf continues to loom over my shoulder. I make it a point to slowly place my friend’s tokens in my pocket before starting onward.
The hills slope into a coastline of pale sand. Little more than a strip of white, shining in the moonlight against a calm strait of water the same color as the night sky. I have never seen the sea before, though I have heard its stories from the traders that used to come through town, hawking goods from all the way to the west. The stories were enough to make me regard this body of water with some apprehension. Especially when Evander climbs into a small rowboat that has been beached upon the shore, frothy waves lapping around its far-too-thin-looking hull.
Aurora is next. I force myself over the side. Then Bardulf. The moon spirit and I sit in the middle, with Evander at the bow and Bardulf at the stern.
“Gruvun, take us back,” Evander says to the ocean. The tide sweeps in, but only around our little vessel, lifting us and carrying us into the open water.
Immediately, I sense a surge of magic with the tides. I’ve never seen someone other than a witch summon a spirit. But the lykin have their own ways of channeling magic.
We are practically untouched by the waves, speeding across the dark sea with ease. I glance over the side of the vessel; there’s nothing but ripples and sea foam. It’s astounding that Aurora made this journey alone…and in the state she was in. No wonder she collapsed from exhaustion shortly after we met.
“Gruvun, were you able to deliver my message?” Aurora asks the water on the opposite side of the rowboat.
“I was,” the water laps against the hull in reply. Nothing fundamentally changed about the movement of the boat, but somehow the waves sound different. The urge to stand and peer over is nearly overwhelming, but I refrain. I do not want to be cast overboard. “She is ready to receive you.”
“And she thinks she will have the power to fix me?”
“She has taken her form. It will not be an issue… She is more mobile than the last, but she will not be able to come to you. She is still entrapped.”
Aurora shifts, staring at her joined hands between her knees. Entrapped. That one word seems to haunt her.
“‘She’ is the old god you wished to see?” I ask, hoping that Evander and Bardulf can’t understand me. Evander’s eyes flick my way, but then he turns back to the distant shore. I can’t tell if it was a look of comprehension or not. Since Aurora doesn’t correct me, I assume I’ve done well enough to speak in the language of spirits.
“Goddess, yes.” Aurora continues to stare into the damp hull of the boat. “There have been some…complications surrounding her…”
“But she is still your best chance?”
Aurora nods.
“Then we will continue our quest.” My voice drops to a whisper, even though it’s clear Evander and Bardulf can’t really understand me.
Aurora lifts her chin and looks to me. Her lips curve into a smile, the thin lines around her eyes and mouth revealing the edge of the weariness she works so hard to keep hidden. It is an expression of resignation. But still having just enough hope that she doesn’t refuse me outright.
“Who is this?” Gruvun asks. A wave crests a little higher on my side of the boat. I swear I see foamy eyes that make my heart both light and as heavy as lead simultaneously.
