“We all know Silas can fly, but you’ve never actually ridden him. Have you?” Pip asked.
“There’s a first time for everything.”
“That’s not reassuring!” Lucy called after me.
“It’s not meant to be.”
I foundWickett outside on the porch later. Timber was curled up near the step like a massive, deadly house pet, though his distance from Wickett didn’t escape my notice. I let the door shut quietly behind me, in case the hunter was sleeping, but the second it whispered shut, the beast leapt up, muscles straining as he stood at attention. Only when he realized it was me did he settle, coming over the second I held my hand toward him.
“You bewitched my beast,” Wickett said without looking up.
I settled on the steps, careful to keep distance between us. “Turns out kindness works better than cruelty for building loyalty. Revolutionary concept.”
We sat in silence, watching the Bloodwood move and breathe around us. The Ash was alive in ways the city never was, honest about its dangers, wearing its threats on the surface instead of hiding them behind bureaucracy and pretty words.
“About last night—” he started.
“We said we wouldn’t talk about it.”
“Syn—”
“We can’t, Wickett.” I stood because sitting made it too easy to stay. I met his eyes, forcing myself to hold his gaze. “Whatever happened in that room, whatever almost happened, it can’t matter now. We don’t have the luxury of it mattering.”
“What if I want it to matter?”
The question was dangerous, impossible, everything I couldn’t afford to think about.
“Then you’re a fool.” My voice broke slightly, despite my best efforts at control. “And so am I.”
I walked away before he could respond, before I could do something catastrophic, because I was starting to think the blood oath wasn’t the thing that was going to kill me. It was going to be the way Wickett Veyne looked at me like I was worth dying for.
Standing alone in the clearing, I slipped out of my boots, letting my feet sink into the Ash. Letting myself ground into this world that’d birthed my ancestors from vengeful fire. I’d been in the city so long, I'd forgotten what this connection felt like. Peace. And wisps of magic rooting me to the core of Fuerlis.
Aureth found me at the edge of the clearing as the sun started its descent, painting the Bloodwood in shades of gold and shadow and highlighting the Erelith flame that burned nearby.
“Pip Willowbend is convinced something is going to reach through the trees and eat you for dinner,” she said as her raven landed heavily on her shoulder.
I looked to the cottage, finding the little blue-haired sprite nervously waving with a smile that was made mostly of fear. I waved back. “She wants to be brave so badly, but she’s never left the city. It’s just an adjustment.”
“She doesn’t aspire to be brave. She simply is. It’s in her soul. You will see. Now tell me why you’re out here questioning your path so we can move on.”
“I’m not questioning anything,” I lied. To the Oracle.
Who only scoffed.
“The path doesn’t reveal itself to those who demand certainty. It reveals itself to those who keep walking.” Her lips curved faintly, her blonde hair blowing in a breeze I couldn’t feel. “You were never chosen for comfort, Syneca. You were chosen because you’ll walk through the dark anyway.”
The Bloodwood was silent but for her raven’s low croak.
“Come inside, Syneca. The forest listens when you doubt, and it isn’t good to feed it too much.”
I fell in step beside her. “Tell me why you came. You could have stayed in the city or gone back to the Sanctuary where it was safe.”
She paused halfway to the house, turning directly toward me. “Because, little Phoenix, you’re going to need my blood to break your oath.”
Chapter 38
Syneca
