Page 20 of Through the Wicked Wood

Shifting against the hard wood of my chair, I turn my gaze to the forest outside. “It’s beautiful here.” I attempt to lighten the tension building in the room, the energy palpable. As if I could run my hand through the air and touch it. “Where is Sorin?” I ask but am left unanswered. My knee bounces recklessly under the table, so I dig my fingers into my legs to urge them to stop. Calm down, I tell myself. You’re safe. The voices in my head laugh. Of course I’m never really safe.

Agnes hums a tune as she slides into the chair across from me, setting her own mug of peppermint tea down on the wooden tabletop. Extending her hands across the table, palms up, I clench my fists at my sides before reluctantly sliding my hands into hers.

Before, I was never bothered by touch. A hug from a loved one. The brush of a lover’s hand. But now, touch is almost painful. Unnatural. Having someone grasp so tightly onto my bare skin makes me clench my teeth. Though, admittedly, when Sorin touched my hand it was a different kind of uncomfortable. Burning. Confusing. But this, with Agnes, has my mind screaming at me to flee.

“Elora, Enchantress of the woods,” she whispers, tightening her grip around my hands. Her smile spreads wide across her face, deepening the lines around her eyes and mouth. “There is hope for us yet,” she muses. Puzzled by her words, I offer a quick smile in return. Sorin must have filled her in on our plan to retrieve the Stones, I decide. He said to trust him, and I was trying. I needed to try.

“I’m no one special, my lady,” I reply, keeping my voice low to match hers. “It’s just the Awakening Stones belong to the Enchantresses, and I believe I might know where they are,” I say, swallowing down the fear that rises in my throat. Why am I suddenly so terrified of this woman who has shown me nothing but kindness?

“And with the troubles I’ve heard of hunting and farming lately…” I fidget under the table, my nerves getting the best of me. “I’m only trying to do what’s right by the Mother,” I continue. “I’m not even sure I’ll know how to retrieve the Stones but…” My voice waivers so I quiet myself. Vulnerability is a fickle beast. Show too much, and you’re considered weak. Show too little, and you’re considered cruel. I glance toward our connected hands and desperation to pull away gnaws at me. I want to tuck them safely back into my lap, but her grip is relentless.

She smirks before her eyes narrow and lips fade into a thin line. “You have no idea just how important you really are, Enchantress. Do not let the actions of others diminish what you are destined to do. Who you were born to be.” My fingers ache as I unsuccessfully attempt to free my hands from Agnes’ grip. “There is strength in overcoming your fears, Elora.” Her voice has raised from a whisper to a dull roar and the panic that rose earlier has unleashed inside of me.

Get out! I yell at myself but am drowned out by Agnes’ roaring voice. “There is power in facing the demons that live within you. That have buried their way deep into your soul. We all have them, but few find it in themselves to confront them,” she says, her voice now closer to a shout. “You will do right by those you feel you have wronged.”

Her eyes bore into me, the usual honey tone now milky white and devoid of color. My hands slick with sweat, and I wiggle them to free myself from her grip. Her nails dig deep into my skin as her voice turns into a low growl.

“Crowds will kneel before you, but not unless you face what it is you fear the most.” My focus remains on freeing my hands but her words hit their mark. What is it I fear most? Everything I have ever cared about has already been stolen from me, surely she is mistaken. I have nothing left to lose.

Ripping myself from her grip, her nails drag against the back of my hands, leaving streaks of red against my pale skin. Struggling to catch my breath, I remain frozen in my chair. “You may be our savior, Elora Leigh,” she whispers, “if only you should choose to be.” Placing her hands delicately around her green mug, she takes a slow sip, as if nothing out of the ordinary has just happened.

“How do you know my surname?” I ask, my body trembling in my seat. The milky white that overtook Agnes’ eyes moments ago has faded, revealing their true honey color once more. Standing, she disregards my question, and makes her way back to the kitchen, humming the same tune from earlier. One I cannot place but know in my heart I’ve heard it before…

“You’re a Seer.” The words feel like ash in my mouth. “An Enchantress,” I whisper, clutching my hands to my chest. Seeking proof my heart is still beating. I need to get out of this house. I need air. Stopping at the long table in the kitchen, she doesn’t bother looking in my direction when she huffs her quiet reply.

“Indeed, little susi, you’re catching on.”

* * *

Rushing out the front door, my lungs ache but it’s nothing compared to the weakness in my knees. A Seer. Agnes isn’t only an Enchantress but a Seer. My mother’s face plants itself at the forefront of my mind. She was the Seer to King Silas before…

Before.

It’s unheard of for Enchantresses to live outside of Valebridge. With magick so strong, we’ve been kept in confinement of the castle walls. Of course, until King Roman staged the uprising all those years ago and a small group of us fled.

Agnes is an Enchantress, living in Loxley for what appears to be a very long time. Are there others outside of Valebridge? Others within Teravie hiding and living on, despite the cruelties our people are facing? How had Agnes ended up here in the first place? Unscathed and protected while others are tortured and dying at the hands of a malicious king. Heat boils in my stomach, a white rage I know so well begs to overtake. The same rage that reared its monstrous head in that alleyway in Copenspire.

Picking up my pace, I head toward the trees behind the house. I need to lose myself in the woods, let them wrap around me and drown the voices pounding inside my head. The forest has been my sanctuary. It healed me after that night on the mountain, heard my cries and swallowed my tears, and I want nothing more than to be surrounded by it.

As I make my way into a dense grove of trees, the air turns cool and thick. The rich, green canopy shields most of the forest from the morning sun, leaving shadows around every turn. Sitting myself down at the base of a large pine tree, I rest my head against its trunk. Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to steady my breathing. In, out. In, out. But still the voices come.

Give up, Elora.

Join us. I press my eyes tighter as flashes of Cade and my mother dance behind my lids.

Cade.

My mother.

The guard on the river.

The guard from Copenspire.

In, out. In, out.

Slowly, my breathing begins to steady as I force the demons into silence, using every last bit of will I have against them. Down, down, down. I bury them deeper and deeper. As my breathing slows, Agnes’ words become clearer in my mind.

You will be our savior, Elora Leigh.

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