Page 31 of Soulbound Shadows: Part 1

Gabriel shook his head. “We’re almost through,” he told me firmly. “I can hear running water nearby, and once we find that we can follow it out of this part of the forest.”

“You’re sure about that?” I asked. “What if it’s just a little stream or something? It might not even reach out of this area.” My nervousness was getting worse as the pathways got narrower, and they were getting so small that we had to turn sideways to squeeze through.

Gabriel looked directly into my eyes for the first time that day. “Trust me,” he said. “There should at least be some clear ground around the water, so yo—so we can catch our breath. If it doesn’t lead us out, I’ll climb a tree to see how far it is to more open ground, and if it’s necessary then, we can make our own pathway out.”

I took a deep breath and nodded. “All right. All right, fine. Lead us to the water.”

We pushed our way through a few more twists and turns in the path. I could hear the water now, too, and it helped more than I would’ve expected. It reminded me that the horrible forest maze wasn’t completely impossible to get out of, and that was a reminder I desperately needed just then. After what felt like about a million years, we finally broke through into open air. I gasped in a grateful breath, and the claustrophobia began to fade.

In front of us was a river of sparkling water so clear that I could make out every single pebble on the riverbed. The flickering, silvery shapes of tiny fish darted through, each one barely the length of my thumbnail. The bank was shallow, sloping down toward the water invitingly. Reeds grew along it in small clusters, and they were so brilliantly green that they looked like something from an over-edited photo.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, barely loud enough to be heard over the sound of the rushing water.

“It is,” Gabriel agreed.

I watched the water flow. Something was bothering me—something slightly wrong about what I was seeing. I huffed out a quiet laugh when I realized what it was.

“The water’s flowing uphill,” I pointed out. “We’re on the right path after all.”

We followed the river. Around noon, we took a break at the riverbank, sitting on wide, flat rocks that had been baked warm by the sun. I made myself a sandwich with the supplies I’d packed, and Gabriel, who had insisted on taking a break, examined a mushroom colony he’d spotted. At first, I suspected he’d called a break so I could rest and have something to eat, and the mushrooms had just been an excuse, but when I’d polished off the second half of my chicken caprese, he was still studying them.

I watched him for a moment as I basked on the sunny rock like a lizard. He was wearing an expression of intense concentration, and it looked like he was taking measurements. His eyelashes were so long they cast soft shadows over the curve of his cheeks. I’d learned to pick up on some of his minute expressions, and what would have looked pretty stoic on someone else seemed like boyish excitement on him.

The more time I spent with Gabriel, the more I realized how clenched he usually seemed. Bit by bit, he’d start to relax, and then the next time I saw him it would be like he’d tightened right back up again. Maybe someday I’d be able to find the problem and work it out like a knot in a muscle. If we found the ascendancy array, I would owe him. That would be as good a way as any to settle my debt to him.

I took one last pull from my water bottle, then tucked it away in the tote. “We should probably get moving again,” I said a little regretfully. It was beautiful here. “I want to make sure we find a decent spot to set up camp before it starts to get dark.”

Gabriel glanced up from his mushrooms and nodded, looking quietly disappointed. I felt a weird little pang in my chest that I decided not to think about too much. He slung the bottomless tote over his shoulder, where the bright blue-and-yellow strap clashed horribly with the leather patch on his jacket, and we set off.

“So, what was so special about that mushroom?”

Gabriel’s eyes lit up. “It’s actually very fascinating. It looked like a Chorioactis geaster, but we’re nowhere near their native habitat, and there was a pattern on the internal part of the fruiting body I’ve never seen before…”

Gabriel’s mushroom facts actually wound up being pretty interesting, which was good because he had a lot of them. It turned out he knew way more about some of the plants witches used than I would have expected, and we passed at least an hour talking about the differences between spearmint and pennyroyal, and how they might change the effect of a potion or a charm.

“How the hell do you know so much about this?” I asked him.

Gabriel’s mouth twisted. “I have a lot of free time to read.”

“Even with all of your vampire prince stuff?”

The twist was getting close to being a full-blown scowl. “My position is… largely ceremonial,” he said. “My parents are the ones with the real power, and unless one or both of them is killed, I’m mostly decorative. A reminder that their lineage will continue, and that they have an heir who’s older than many of the other clan heads. It’s mostly about pageantry.”

“I don’t know how you deal with it. If I had to put up with that sort of politics all the time, I’d lose my mind. There’s a reason I spend most of my time researching and working on jobs.”

“I’ve learned to live with it. But it’s… Some days are easier than others.”

The sound of rushing water was getting louder, and as we turned a bend in the river, I could see why. A glittering waterfall flowed up a cliff face. Droplets of water hung suspended in the air, catching the sunlight. Small, silvery fish darted up the waterfall. A frog saw us coming and jumped into the water with a splash. Tiny flowers covered the banks and grew up the cliff. Little dark berries hung from their twisting vines.

“Heyyy,” called a voice. “Hey! Pretty people! Hello!” The voice was lovely, silvery, and bright, the sort you might hear from a socialite who made everyone they spoke to feel like they’re old friends.

Gabriel and I both stopped short. The waters at the base of the fall parted like a curtain, and someone walked through them. They were tall, with silvery-blue skin and long white hair that cascaded down to their waist plastered to their skin. Every one of their long, elegant fingers sparkled with gems, and their pointed ears easily had a dozen earrings each. They wore sequined booty shorts and nothing else.

“Hello there,” they purred. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a visitor, and now two of you come along at once! You can call me Cardamom. May I have your names?” Their eyes were wide and black, their face perfect, utterly symmetrical and unblemished.

I smiled. “You can call me whatever you’d like.” I knew better than to give my name to one of the fair folk.

“And you can call me anything as well,” Gabriel said cautiously.

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