Outside the Eldergrove was a flurry of activity.
Druids were everywhere, lounging in the field of wildflowers, soaking up the glorious sunshine, playing and laughing, singing and dancing, enjoying their lives to the fullest. Caelian passed by a market full of stands and brightly colored tents selling all kinds of interesting wares. There was pottery, jewelry, tapestries, clothing, and an array of fresh fruits and vegetables.
She would venture to the market tomorrow and browse the selection of goods then, because right now all she wanted to do was walk. She wanted to feel the cool earth beneath her feet, she wanted the warm breeze to kiss her cheeks. More than anything, she wanted to put as much distance between herself and Kjeld as possible.
It was infuriating, the way he so boldly declared he’d fight for her. It was something a lover would do. Or a husband. Or even a loyal friend. But he was none of those things to her. He could have been. Once. But not anymore.
Caelian needed space from him.
She needed to find a way to get over him, to quit loving and pining for him. If only she could figure out how to regain the fullextent of her magic, then she could fix the mess she’d created. It had been a costly error, wishing for him to fall in love with her.
The biggest mistake of her life, if she was being honest.
Perhaps the Myrkwild would listen to her truth and honor it.
“It was a mistake.” The wind carried her whisper through the fluttering leaves, and she swore the forest sighed in understanding. “I never should have wished for him to love me. I should have been more patient. I should’ve waited for it to happen naturally. But I was so desperate. So foolishly in love that I made an egregious, unforgivable error. I thought I could make him love me.”
Wandering further into the Myrkwild, Caelian detached herself from the invasive quiet of her mind.
She focused on the way the soft ground cushioned her feet, how the long, thin blades of grass tickled her ankles. Her fingertips brushed the silky petals of flowers as she passed, their beautiful blossoms painting the forest like a rainbow of watercolors. Birdsong was a welcome distraction, taking up residency in her thoughts, replacing the silenced wishes of those around her. The fragrant, summery air coated her skin, and she pulled her locks up into a bun at the nape of her neck, fastening it in place with one of the ribbons dangling from her flower crown.
The deeper she trekked into the Myrkwild, the more magic seemed to breathe within the enchanted woods. Wind whistled through the canopy of branches and leaves, its melodic tune reminding Caelian of a forgotten lullaby. Trees bent and groaned, changing shape right before her eyes. Faces emerged on the coarse trunks, each one etched with precision and care, the details so intricate it almost looked as though they were alive. She imagined each tree told a different story of the life carved into its surface. And she was sure if she listened carefully,if she embraced the stillness of her mind, then she would hear their voices, a projection of lost secrets and ancient lore.
Caelian imagined most might be traumatized by a forest with a mind of its own, but she was fascinated.
Mesmerized.
Her blood hummed.
A familiar calling.
Vines of ivy and bushes of climbing pink roses parted for her as she walked, unveiling a worn footpath that wound like a labyrinth through the Myrkwild. She followed it freely, singing softly to herself as she made her way along the trodden dirt. Golden afternoon sunlight sprinkled in through the overhang of foliage, flickering on leaves and petals like dancing faerie lights. The Myrkwild yawned open, revealing a river as blue as the sky, so clear she could see the smooth stones beneath its surface. A large willow stood watch near its mossy banks, its weeping branches sweeping lightly back and forth. Perched in the damp earth near the edge of the glittering water was a wooden sign that readRiver Thalorien, Keeper of Memories.
Caelian padded forward, brushing the curtain of branches aside, and stepped into the willow’s protective embrace. She lowered herself onto the ground, fanning her skirts around her, and leaned against its supportive trunk.
Then she listened.
River Thalorien sang a beautiful song, bubbling and babbling, its music speaking to the deepest parts of Caelian’s healing soul. She closed her eyes, focusing on the languid current, on its ethereal voice, until she swore she could hear it calling her name.
Except she didn’t think it would have such a masculine tone.
“Caelian?”
Her eyes flew open. It wasn’t the river speaking to her at all.
It was Kjeld.
She looked up just as he moved the weeping branches aside, and relief settled into the strained lines of his features.
He stepped forward, letting the swinging ribbons of branches close behind him. “I thought you were lost.”
Caelian hugged her knees to her chest, her skirts spilling around her. She focused on the willow’s leaves, on the river just beyond, refusing to meet his gaze. “I assure you, I am not.”
“I can see that now.”
“I was trying to get away from you.” Heat crept into her cheeks at her lack of respect. Ariesian would be horrified if he heard her speak to someone in such a manner. She scrambled to her feet, dusting off her bottom and thighs. “Forgive me, I did not mean to be so rude.”
“I know.” Kjeld heaved a breath, as though he had run all the way to find her, and adjusted the straps on his vest. “This forest has a strange way of loosening our tongues.”
