Again,nothingwould stop me from saving her.
With the magic that surged through my veins, I had never felt vulnerable, and yet, I had never felt so powerless seeing Caelyn’s face crack from the curse I brought upon us.
Fuck.It would be my fault if she perished. My fault if she didn’t get to live beyond her measly twenty-four years above the ground. I would find her in the afterlife. Not even Aetheron would be able to wipe our past life memories to start again in the Eternal Vale.
The storms started to disperse, leaving me with the chill of the setting sun and sea breeze. Wind whipped across my drenched clothing and slapped against my skin when I felt a rush of her anguish… betrayal overwhelming my Blood Tie.
My eyes widened, searching my surroundings for anything or anyone to help, but I was alone. I was helpless to her in the depths. My eyes drifted closed, lips downturned.
No… no… Laziel… I’ll kill him.It had to be that merfolk. I should have kept him tied to the mast.
Please tell me you are okay,I tried to send down our bond, but I could feel her building a wall between us. The same bond we used for almost a year to speak between before the OceanMother stole her memories. And now, she blocked it. Blocked us.
Please, I tried to send again, but it was like my plea hit solid stone.
If she could force me from her mind, she was alive and breathing. I tried to tell myself that over and over, hoping I would eventually believe it, but it never stuck as truth.
Grisenweld approached in the distance, a minute island covered in greenery, clearly uninhabited by the overgrowth. I contemplated destroying it all to unveil the ferryman but knew I needed to stay in the man’s good graces. Instead, I circled the shore, searching for the rowboat and hoping he would show his face.
My strength waned as my hope began to flail and dwindle. Crackling spread across my face—along the splintering, degenerating curse mark. Jeering pain accompanied it, sizzling across the rips like pinched nerves. Every day the weight of the curse bore into me deeper and deeper. Every day I felt weaker, more helpless, as if control slipped from my fingers and I couldn’t grab the string quick enough to stop it. I would never admit out loud that even my powers had begun to diminish. At one time, I could destroy entire realms, and now, I could only truly depend on my physical abilities and weapon training.
There was one thing beneficial from my childhood of torture and brutality: I could unflinchingly rip the bones from a being with my bare hands, my sword would swing on muscle memory, and my fists could shatter rock and land itself.
My feet finally hit solid ground, sand flying around me at impact. An eerie silence cast over the island, the only sound the nighttime breeze dancing across the shrubs and trees that littered the inland.
Twisted vines strangled the trunks of ancient trees, their roots breaking through cracked stone paths that hinted at a long-lost civilization. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth, decaying leaves, and wildflowers that bloomed unchecked.
Tiny scurrying feet sounded in the bramble to my left, catching my attention. I approached slowly—carefully. The moon barely illuminated enough light to make out the outline of the forest. Slight pressure tapped across my foot, and I kicked.
Dozens of woodrats emerged from the underbrush in eerie silence, their matted fur slick with evening dew, eyes glinting unnaturally in the moon’s light. They nibbled at their paws, eyes blazing into me as if assessing my motives.Gross.
In a blink, they all lowered and stalked around me, their tiny heads turning, never breaking eye contact. They moved with a disturbing precision, perfect unison, as if responding to some silent command.
I glared back, confused at the unnatural action of the woodrats. Wild creatures in nature usually scatter at the approaching scent of a human, but these had ambushed me as if unafraid of a towering person. Or a god.
My power prickled my palms, ready to release at the slightest threat, even the dozens of diminutive rats around me. If it slowed me down from getting the Sunder Coin and saving my Blood Tie, I would destroy them.
“Uh, uh, uh, God of the Forsaken,” a soft-spoken female voice cut through the silence of the forest, but it barely made it past the raging noise in my mind.
I spun, projecting my power in the direction of the woman, but when I turned, the shore was empty.
“Reveal yourself, or I will destroy it all,” I bellowed. There was no time for games.
“You wouldn’t dare if you want to find the farrier,” she taunted, but her voice moved right behind me.
I whirled, longsword in hand.
A childlike giggle flitted through the air, but the woman was nowhere in sight. I attempted to step over the woodrats butwas met with a transparent blockade in a perfect circle. I was trapped from the ground up.
I growled, guttural.
“Play nice, and I’ll tell you what you need,” the woman sang, but I was beyond asking.
My sword struck the invisible barrier between me and the woodrats, recoiling with a sharp clang that threw me off balance and slammed my back into the wall behind me.
From the shadows, the woman stepped forward, presence haunting the shores of Grisenwald in the darkness. Her tattered yellow dress skimmed the sand, hollow crustaceans pinching the edges. With skin that resembled the moon, I nearly mistook her for the celestial object. Bones protruded through her face’s skin, stretched far too thin. The wicked smile she wore infuriated me even more.
“Where is the ferryman?” I gritted through my teeth. My patience was obsolete.
