Page 21 of Through the Wicked Wood

The ache begins to set in my temples, like needles on already tender flesh, pulling me from Agnes’ vision. I rub my fingers in meticulous circles along my hairline, but I know it won’t be long before the pain takes over the entirety of my head. Surely whatever Agnes thinks she knows, she’s wrong. I am no one’s savior.

I am no one.

Forcing my shoulders to relax, I lean into the darkness behind my eyes, willing the pain away. Willing the anger toward Agnes and the others here to subside. How could they go on living in peace and merriment while Enchantresses stuck in Valebridge suffer? But then again, wasn’t I doing the same thing in the Trinity Forest? Hiding? I, too, have stood idly by.

I’m not sure how long I sit against the tree with my eyes pressed tight before the hair on my arms and neck raise. I don’t have to open my eyes to know I’m not alone, but I do anyway. Pushing past the blurring of my vision, it takes a few moments for things to come into focus. The brightness of the forest, even through the canopy of trees, is sudden and sharp. Dropping my hands to my sides, I strain my eyes as I take in the shape before me. As I reach for the daggers I placed at my hips this morning, I keep my movements slow and intentional. Dipping my head low, I wait.

Narrowing my gaze at the beast before me, the wolf’s gaze narrows back.

Chapter 11

Sorin

I should’ve known better than to try and sneak out of the house before dawn. I barely make it three steps before Agnes’ voice drifts down the long, narrow hallway.

“Leaving already, son?”

Spinning around, she stands at the end of the hall, apron on, no doubt already preparing bread for the day. The image casts a smile across my face. Despite the abundance of work I need to do around the village, there’s always time for her. The sun still sleeps quietly behind the stars, leaving the only light in the house from the hearth. Creeping toward her, I’m mindful of my steps. Tiptoeing as best I can in my boots so as to not wake Elora.

Reaching the end of the hall, I give Agnes a tight squeeze. Peppermint and sage fill the room. Just as it always has. It smells of home. Pulling back, we both turn for the kitchen. “Just figured I should get a head start around the village this morning. I was gone a little longer than expected.” My voice trails off as I wait for the inevitable. Her gift of sight isn’t always predictable, especially with her age and varying health ailments. The magick comes and goes these days, so there isn’t a sure way to know exactly what she’s already Seen.

She huffs a small laugh, coating her hands in flour. Something warm settles within me as she methodically begins kneading the next loaf. I haven’t realized how much I missed home until this moment.

“Your stop in Copenspire was successful.” She doesn’t stop working the dough as she glances up at me. I know what she’s asking, but I’m not entirely sure how to explain this deal between Elora and me. Not without her disapproval. The last thing she’ll want me to do is journey to Valebridge.

“Yes,” I say, sitting myself down on one of the stools at the large table. Tossing a grape from the fruit bowl into the air and catching it with my mouth. “The meeting with the merchants went well,” I continue, “nothing out of the ordinary to report. Trades should go undisturbed so long as they work with clipped tongues and we provide the pelts they desire.” I cup a handful of grapes and lean my elbows on the table, savoring the warm crackle of the fire and the sweet juice of the fruit. “You do think Sam will get the pelts this time? With everything going on with the blight—”

“I trust your sister,” Agnes says, continuing her work on the bread. “You should too.”

Sighing, I roll my shoulders. The last year has proven more and more difficult to uphold our bargain, and without it, Loxley will cease to stay hidden.

The fishermen in Copenspire have been allies for years. Trading us whatever fresh fish they have for copious fur pelts from the animals that reside in the Trinity Forest. Their allegiance dates back to when William, my adoptive father and Agnes’ husband, was the head of Loxley. Though the merchants and fisherman we work with don’t reside in Loxley, our goals are common. Take down the rich and feed the poor. The trades they make with us are not trafficked through the kingdom, as most others are. Strictly between us, we’re able to get a great deal of goods for nearly no cost and absolutely no tax to add to Valebridge’s fortune.

But lately, the animals are more sparse, the fish more evasive. If we don’t stop this blight, this punishment from the Mother, I’m not sure how we’ll survive.

Pausing her kneading, Agnes crosses her arms and eyes me from top to bottom. I bite down on my tongue, preparing for what’s coming next. “And the Enchantress? Care to tell that story?”

I pop another grape and consider my words. Bringing Elora here was a risk, I knew that the moment I offered her my help. Agnes left Valebridge under King Richard’s rule, the ruler before Silas and long before Roman. That’s where she met William. As a member of the royal guard, it was forbidden then to have any interactions with the Enchantresses. Or with anyone, for that matter. A chaste life meant no distractions, which meant more dutiful and determined armies for the king.

Or that was the idea anyway. So much changed under Silas, and as much as it pains me to say, he was a decent king all things considered.

Agnes has told me the story a dozen times, and yet this morning, it feels fresh in my mind as I think of Elora and our journey to Valebridge.

Despite the restrictions of the kingdom, Agnes and William couldn’t help falling in love with each other. They lived in secret for years. Small glances in the halls of the castle. Shadowy meetings in the darkest corners of Valebridge. But after years of insurmountable hidden moments, they decided they needed more. Wanting a simpler life together, a life without rules, without forbiddance, they left.

The moon was full the night they fled Valebridge, and Agnes’ magick was strong. She had a vision of the Northern Trinity Forest. A clearing in the center of the trees. She saw stone-built homes and plentiful bounties of animals and berries. Children laughing around the firelight and dogs chasing their tails. She didn’t know it yet, but she had envisioned Loxley. Sneaking away with only whatever they could carry on their backs, they left Valebridge and never looked back. Together, they built Loxley from the ground up.

Many others from Valebridge eventually made their way to the village, and when Eviey and Letty stumbled upon what they’d built, they warded it, and it’s been that way ever since. Grown to what it is today. Loxley is a haven for those who want to live outside of religious boxes. Outside of the demands of a king who cares so little for who he deems the lesser man.

After some time, King Richard no longer felt it necessary to waste any more time or resources looking for the traitorous guard and Enchantress that up and left in the middle of the night. He had bigger issues dealing with the threat of an uprising from the Enchantresses in Valebridge.

With the wards heavily in place, the hunt was fruitless and eventually Agnes and William became forgotten. Nothing more than a myth to those who journey this part of the forest. Who claim to hear voices and music but see nothing but trees.

I can hear my father’s words clear as day, “Until the last star burns in the night sky and in all the darkness that comes after, I am forever yours.” A declaration he often made to Agnes, which always guaranteed an eye roll between Sam and me.

“Dumb luck,” I say to Agnes with a wink before standing and walking around the kitchen table.

Leaning down, I wrap an arm around her shoulders. “You’ve always said it yourself,” I whisper, “nothing happens by chance.” Pulling back from my embrace she greets me with a mix of emotions. Warmth and wariness battle behind her eyes, and it’s then that I realize my suspicions are true. She already knows. She knows why I brought Elora here and it will devastate her when we go. But she knows better than to suggest otherwise because she is my mother, and she knows me best. Knows what my heart has desired for too long.

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