Page 71 of Through the Wicked Wood

“I can’t stay, Elywn. I have to leave. Whatever lies beyond the Valebridge walls, I have to believe we’ll find refuge. I have–”

“Celia, no.” Elwyn interrupts, standing and gripping her by the elbows.

“We’re leaving tonight,” my mother says again in a tone that she typically only uses when I’ve gotten into her things. “I can’t watch another woman bear his child. It’s already too much to see him wed another…We’ll find our way, whatever that way is.”

The two of them say nothing as Elwyn pulls my mother into an embrace. My heartbeat quickens. What does she mean, leave tonight? We can’t leave tonight. Tonight is the full moon and we’re to have tea and then a party. She must have forgotten.

“If what your vision said is true,” my mother whispers, possibly thinking I can’t hear her, “then even if I leave, they will still find each other.”

Elwyn nods, a flash of understanding takes over her face as she rubs her round belly again. “The Fates have confirmed our suspicions,” Elwyn says, glancing at me then to her belly. I look away quickly, pretending to be studying the plants in the book. “But we still haven’t figured out why and if you leave, Celia it will be much more difficult for me to See their future. Not to mention Silas will not rest until—”

“I know,” my mother says, cutting her short. “I know what he’ll do to me. I know the magick he has at his disposal. But as long as he is safe”—my skin prickles as her eyes land on me, but I don’t turn to look. I don’t want to see the look in her eyes that is so unlike her— “as long as they find each other…that is all that matters. Whatever the Fates Saw…whatever they need them to do, they’ll make sure it’s done, right?” I turn just in time to see Elwyn nod, her brows pinched together. “But in the meantime, I can’t sit here idle,” my mother continues. “Sorin can’t stay here after the baby is born. What if they see him as a threat?” She turns, her eyes finding me so I quickly look away. “And they will find each other. Won’t they?”

“Yes,” Elwyn whispers, her eyes flicking to me as well, “they’ll find each other.”

“Can you please watch him, just for a little while?” My mother’s voice cracks and my stomach drops. Is she crying?

“Of course,” Elwyn says, stroking my mother’s hair back from her face. “He can stay as long as you need.”

My mother crosses the room and crouches next to me. “Be good for Lady Elwyn,” she whispers in my ear, “listen to what she says.”

Nodding, I reach for her gown, grabbing a fistful, wishing she would stay a little longer. “Of course, mama,” I say, but I’m still so confused. I don’t want to leave. This is my home. Before I can say anything else, she kisses my head and turns to Elwyn. My stomach feels funny but I ignore the feeling, not wanting to burden my mother any further.

“Thank you,” she whispers. Her eyes drag to Elwyn’s belly, she places her hand there. “Do you have a name yet?” she asks, removing her hand and heading to the door.

“I think I’ll name her Elora,” Elwyn says, a smile splitting across her face.

“Elora,” my mother repeats slowly as if committing it to memory. “The sun beam to my sun.” She smiles, turning to me quickly. “I’ll be back,” she whispers before disappearing completely from the room. There are a few beats of silence before the large oak door creaks and I dare a glance up from my book.

“Sorin,” Elwyn says, turning from the door and giving me a smile. “Have you ever heard of a game called poker?”

I’m snapped from my memory by the sound of a scream.

Elora’s scream.

Jumping up to my feet, I force myself not to panic, the memory of my mother and of Elora’s mother still burned into my mind. Think, Sorin. Like a compass directing a sailor through a storm, I close my eyes and imagine Elora’s face. Where are you? I picture her touch. Tell me where you are? Her taste and smell. The freckles strewn about the bridge of her nose. Let me help you. The way her golden eyes flash when she’s angry. The sounds she makes when I kiss her neck and the way her hair always smells of jasmine. I picture every last inch of her until there it is.

A tug.

A direction.

Then, I’m running.

Racing through the darkness, I don’t see the stone wall before I crash into it with full force. Sucking in a breath from the sudden impact, I re-ground myself and push my ear against the stone, waiting to hear her again.

“Elora!” I shout, but can she hear me? A deep shattering sound pounds through the dark as the stone rumbles and roars beneath my hands, as if it’s being ripped apart from within. Earth rolls beneath me as deep cracks splinter down the walls of the cage.

Planting my feet firmly on the ground, I use all my weight to push against the crumbling wall, leveraging my body to widen the cracks now spiraling down. Large chunks of stone crash on the opposite side and I hear Elora yelp. Blinding pain shoots up my arm and in an instant, I’m on my knees. I brace myself on all fours, the pain comes again. Piercing and hot.

My chest heaves as I push the sleeve of my shirt up, the ink from my bargains swirling and angry. The lines of black bubble and hiss. Each breath is torturous as the pain grows more and more unbearable. Sitting back on my heels, I grip my arm, gritting through my teeth. Another scream from inside the cage and all of my pain ceases. Because getting her out is more important than whatever the hell is happening to me.

“Get on your feet, Elora!” I shout, pulling myself to my feet as well. “Put your hand through the stone.” I have no idea if she can hear me, but I shout anyway, any direction I can give her, to make sure she is fighting to get out. She must get out. A crack deepens in the center of the stone cage, and through it, I can see Elora’s hand. Wedging in as far as she can, I pry apart the stone, pushing my own arm through as deep as it can go. Heavy pieces of stone and earth crumble to the ground as I push my arm deeper, until finally, I have her in my grip.

The moment our hands touch through the stone, a flash of white light illuminates in the darkness. Then, a violent thrash of magick has the cage crumbling completely right as Elora’s body convulses. Yanking her arm, I swiftly scoop her into my own before the tumbling rocks devour us both. Her head swings heavily as she rolls into unconsciousness.

Move, Sorin.

Darting the opposite way of the stone cage, I don’t look back even when the many screams of Grawgeth sound as if they’re mere inches away.

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