Page 23 of To Scale the Emerald Mountain
“They say on that landmass sprouted a tree. A tree holding all of the power and vitality of the Mother. It grew and spread roots, sending some of its energy back into the earth that gave it life. An endlesscycle began of give and take from this planet and Ellhora—who’s lifeforce and magic were confined to the tree. And so she made her home around the tree, building the city of Willowood.”
“The willowbane tree,” I say matter of factly.
“That’s right, my clever, darling girl.”
My face lights at the term of endearment.
“They say that the willowbane tree was protected and overseen by Ellhora. Then three gods appeared and demanded a piece of her magic; the gods demanded to give it to the masses. They say that when Ellhora refused them, the gods stole from her magic before poisoning the tree, weakening her and turning the willowbane tree into a petrified shadow of what it once was.”
I roll my eyes. “You start everything with ‘they say,’” I point out to her curiously. “Why? Do you not believe the stories?”
Nana smiles down affectionately at me. “I wasn’t there, who am I to say?” Her hazel eyes hold a playful twinkle.
I smile back at her and ask, “You’ve seen the petrified willowbane tree?”
“Oh, yes. It’s a very popular tourist destination in Willowood—the Gleisheon Territory’s capital—where your mother was from. Usually crowded, but still very much worth the visit. You will see it one day.”
I beam at the thought.“Ellhora was a great beauty? What did she look like?”
“Well, my darling girl, no one knows for certain. It is said that she appears different to everyone. If she truly created her children in her image, how could she not look like us all?”
Nana finishes with my hair and sits in a chair beside me. She smiles at me lovingly and says, “It used to be a popular trend to name daughters after the Mother. It was believed that it wouldbless the daughters to be great, strong, fearless women. But as years went on, less and less parents felt that their daughters lived up to their names of greatness. The trend died out. But your mother knew that you were a girl when you were still in her womb. And knew she would name you Ellya. Tellisha knew that—no matter what your life went on to be—you would be great. You are so like her. And at your young age you’ve already achieved the greatness she wanted for you. She would be so proud of you.”
A swell of emotion crests at Nana’s words, and tears sting my eyes as she hugs me. Before the drops have a chance to fall, the creaking of a door opening slowly catches my attention, and I am hit with a familiar scent. My heart races with joyful anticipation as I turn to look. I know who I will see from the air of familiarity and scent alone.
The threat of tears instantly fades as my face breaks into a wide smile.
I wake gasping and clutching my chest that feels as if a hole has been punched straight through my empty heart. Taking in my unfamiliar surroundings, I gradually remember where I am and how I got here.
The sky is still black as pitch outside, not yet morning. The house is silent. The softhootof an owl somewhere sings a soothing song to the night.
Thinking about the memory and the implications of my mother’s loss, I toss and turn for several long minutes before I resign myself to the fact that I won’t be going back to sleep.
I light the small handheld flicker lantern on my nightstand, a small drop of my power fueling its light, and walk downstairs. My mouth waters at the thought of peppermint tea. My steps lead into the kitchen, hoping that I will find some kind of tea, even if it’s notpeppermint. It’s a warm and balmy night, but the craving for the comforting drink is too strong to ignore.
Stumbling around in the darkness, my lantern only helps me so much in the unfamiliar room. I stub my toe on a leg of a large island and curse under my breath, trying to ignore the throbbing pain and irrational anger that comes with it. Setting my lantern down, I place my arms on the island and take deep breaths. Lifting my head, I find the silhouette of a large range and the shadow of a teapot sitting on top.
There’s that at least.
Finding two flicker lamp sconces on either side of the range, I easily power them with a smile. Perfect. Turning the key on the wall to increase their light, I bathe the room in a soft glow. After lighting several more lamps I take stock of the kitchen and am surprised when I quickly find just what I’m craving. I open the tin labeled ‘peppermint chamomile’ and breathe deep.
It smells like home.
I’ve just started on the kettle when a cutting voice calls from behind me, “What are you doing?”
I jump, startled by my sudden company. “Fucking Mother, don’t do that!” My hand clutches the spot over my heart.
“What, speak to you?” Locane says blandly.
“No. Creep up like that. I didn’t even hear you.”
“Perhaps you should try to be more aware of your surroundings.”
“Perhaps you should be in bed. I didn’t really want company for my midnight tea.” I get back to work, pulling a jar of honey from an exposed shelf and slam it down on the island. Turning on the spot, I scan the room for mugs and find them quickly on anotherexposed shelf. I stride to it with purpose and pull down one, not bothering to ask if he would like any.
“Why are you making midnight tea?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” I tell him in a clipped tone.
