Page 26 of Through the Wicked Wood

The rest of the day is spent in and out of meetings with the council. Getting updates on our supply stock and taking note of what needs to be replenished. Though our small fields of crops are doing okay, foraging outside the warded walls hasn’t been fruitful. My stomach turns with each new revelation that if something doesn’t change, we may not have enough in our reserves to get through Winter.

No one knows of the plan to travel to Kirsgard Mountain and then to Valebridge, best kept to ourselves until our strategy is set. In my absence, Ulric will take over provisions with the help of a few other merchants, including Thomas. Thomas is young, closer to Elora’s age. But I use his inexperience to my advantage, teaching him the ropes of running things on the trade, making sure he does things the way I’d like them to be done.

“I won’t let you down,” he says with a smile. His auburn hair is ruffled, like he’s just gotten up. Shaking his extended hand, I head out for the day.

This isn’t the first time I’ll be gone from Loxley for an extended period, but it is the first time I’m unsure of when, or if, I’ll be back.

I make my way back to the house, my hands full of vegetables and other ingredients I traded the villagers for. I breathe in deeply as a quiet house welcomes me. Elora is busy bathing and changing, and I mentioned to Agnes earlier that Elora and I would be dining alone to discuss our strategy, and with a few eye rolls and laughs she conveniently had plans with Eviey and Letty to begin the preparations for the coming full moon celebration.

The entire house smells divine as I finish preparing the last of the food. A typical fishing day would usually yield between three and five fish but today, I was lucky to catch just one.

Baked trout smothered in butter and herbs. Potatoes fresh from the garden, a handful of carrots roasted with leeks. I attempt to act casual, despite my quickened heartbeat, as I wait for Elora to meet me in the dining room. I’m not sure what it is, but I can’t keep my composure around her. I’ll blame it on the presence of her magick. Of her being an Enchantress. Because there aren't any other logical reasons for me to act like a complete fool whenever she’s near. Though if Sam were here, I’m sure she’d argue I’m a fool, regardless.

Agnes insisted Elora borrow one of Sam’s dresses while her tunic and breeches get a fresh wash. Elora had protested, naturally, but eventually relented, realizing arguing with Agnes is an uphill battle. One that is rarely won.

As Elora enters the room, my lungs freeze in my chest. What I thought was a quickened heartbeat before is nothing compared to how it rages now. Her hair is bound in the usual braid she often wears and draped across her shoulder, a few rogue waves hanging around her face. The dress she picked is a deep orange that brings out the flecks of gold in her eyes, illuminating them even brighter in the dim light of the candles. The sleeves are flowy and loose. Though the hem is several inches too long, it fits snugly on the curves of her hips, making my chest tighten even further.

“Smells incredible,” she says, passing me by without a second glance. Closing her eyes she takes a deep inhale, practically salivating over the food displayed across the large table in the kitchen. “Did you make all of this?”

“I did,” I say, laughing at her surprise as her eyebrows jump to her forehead. “We’ve been…fortunate to have crops remain strong despite what’s happening just outside the wards.” Her eyes meet mine and there’s a look in them I can’t place. “Only the best for you, Enchantress,” I say with a wink, feigning casualty despite the thudding in my chest. Her cheeks flush, and for a moment, I think I’ve earned a compliment. Then, her eyes narrow in my direction and the moment is lost.

“Speaking of Enchantresses,” she says, scooping heaps of the food onto her plate, “you failed to mention Agnes was an Enchantress. Interesting how that didn’t come up when you formed this plan to retrieve the Stones.” The icy wave of her stare hits me before she turns to seat herself at the small table by the window. She eyes the bread and licks her lips softly before biting down and reclining in her chair.

Clearing my throat, I grab a plate of my own. “Loxley is hidden in the woods for a reason.” I scramble to focus on our conversation and not Elora as I fill my plate. “Agnes and William made sure of that. It would be treasonous of me to go around telling our secrets to a stranger.” With my plate full, I make my way to the chair opposite her, braving a quick glance in her direction to gauge how much trouble I’m in. She keeps her focus on her food, but her shoulders are still, her eyes narrowed.

She finishes her piece of bread before reaching for the wine and pouring us each a glass. “What about the whole ‘trust each other’ business you were so passionate about back in the woods,” she says before taking a long sip from her cup.

“I trust you,” I state, forcing my eyes down to my plate like a coward. Keeping conversation between bites of fish and potato, I continue, “That doesn’t mean everyone else will right away.” I’m not lying when I tell her this. I do trust her. Everything in me says I should, but the people of Loxley have faced their hardships, life in the woods isn’t so easily lived. But of all people, I suppose Elora already knows that. Despite her similar situation, Agnes will be an especially hard wall to break.

“Then tell me,” she starts again between sips of her wine. “If Agnes is an Enchantress, surely she’s been to Valebridge at one point or another. The fact that she’s here outside the castle walls is amazing enough. Why wouldn’t she just take you there herself to seek whatever it is you’re so desperately trying to obtain.” I can tell she’s baiting me as she draws out the last few words. She wants to know about Agnes, but she really wants to know what my motives are. And rightfully so. I’ll tell her, I will. But I’m not ready for that conversation yet.

Leaning back in my chair, I cross my arms and contemplate where to begin. With my stomach full and head beginning to feel a slight buzz from the wine, I fear I’ll let too much slip, so I choose my words wisely. “Agnes is…well, Agnes.” I uncross my arms and let them lay loosely in my lap, resisting the urge to fiddle with the ring that I wear on my index finger. It was William’s. A thick silver band with a black stone in the middle. I've worn it every day since his passing, an heirloom of my adoptive father I cherish deeply. “What brought her here from Valebridge is her story to tell, not mine. And as a mother, her only wish is to keep Samaria and me safe. Dragging her back to a place that despises what she is isn’t a fair ask.”

“And yet you ask it of me,” she counters, quick and harsh and exactly what I deserve. Her brows furrow, and I immediately want to take back my words.

I let loose a sigh while my mind tries to catch up. “It’s different,” I finally say, knowing it's not enough. Leaning forward, I prop my elbows on the arms of my chair. She peers out the window, into nothing but a black forest, the last of the sunset already disappeared back into the earth.

“It’s different,” I say again, drawing the word out, “because you and I have an arrangement. There’s something in it for both of us. I help you find the Stones; you help me get into Valebridge unnoticed. For Agnes it would be nothing but painful memories and another loss.”

“A loss?” she asks, turning to face me again, the ice slowly melting around her edges. I refill our cups again with the dark red wine and she watches as I pour. Placing the empty bottle down, I twist the ring on my finger, contemplating just how much to say.

“Who knows what can happen once we’re there,” I say, peering past Elora and at the stone wall opposite the kitchen. A tapestry hangs across it, a smile tugs at my lips as I recall Sam and I poorly making it for Agnes one year. We wove together different twigs and mosses we’d found in the forest. Sam dried the wildflowers between stacks of her books, I’m amazed they’ve survived this long. It fascinates me how it is the smallest items that make a home rather than the home itself.

I bring my gaze back to her. “It’s not a risk Agnes was willing to take is all.” She shakes her head, but to my relief she doesn’t push it any further.

“So, you mentioned earlier you had something to tell me, that was your reasoning for dinner was it not?” Elora asks, taking a long sip from her wine, her empty plate pushed to the center of the table. Deep pink flushes her cheeks, the lids of her eyes heavy. “So,” she says again, her voice is quiet, but not quite a whisper. “What is it you need to tell me, Sorin?” she asks, leaning back into her chair.

Hearing my name from her lips sends a chill down my spine so I bite my bottom lip to keep from saying or doing something I shouldn’t. She tilts her head to the side as if sensing the change in energy, lifting the corner of her mouth in a small smile. Elora with her guard down is an entirely different specimen. Intoxicating as she was before, I can’t draw my eyes away at how casually she sits across from me.

A smile tugs at my lips as I down the last of my cup. “The full moon celebration is a week away, Samaria and the rest of the crew are expected back then. I’ll meet with them first to fill them in on the details and then—”

“No.” Setting her now empty cup down a little too harshly, causing the table to rattle, she pinches the bridge of her nose with her fingers.

“No?” I question, trying to keep my composure as she quickly appears to lose hers.

“No,” she says again, long and drawn out. “You will not meet with them first.” Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, she tries to focus her eyes as she sits forward resting her elbows on the table. “If we’re to trust each other there’s nothing you can say to them that I can’t be a part of,” she says. I attempt to conceal my amused smirk as she continues, it isn’t often I’m the one being told what to do.

“We tell them everything together,” she says. “You promised you’d keep me in on your plans.” My mind flashes back to the guard in Copenspire and our conversation thereafter. How defeated and angry she was that I used her as a pawn instead of a player and how poorly that ended for everyone.

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