Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

It is a miracle that Aurora, Evander, and I somehow manage to avoid Conri's suspicions during the three days between the two pack encampments. We struggle to navigate time with Aurora and myself so I can begin learning how to better tap into the magic that is now within me—and make some small progress in so doing—as well as finding time for me to sneak into Evander's tent to take care of other matters.

Perhaps it is the chaos of the temporary camps that helps us go undetected. The tents are less permanent—though Conri's is always set up to the point of maximum comfort. There is less of a schedule and more of an organic flow to the pack. People are rarely in the same place twice, so they don't take note of where you are or what you're doing. Which allows Evander and I to continue what have become our evening walks with enough time for me to see Aurora and slip away before being returned to Conri with the wolf king none the wiser.

Strolling with Evander in a late dusk has proved…surprisingly delightful. So long as I can manage to set aside how awkward I feel knowing what the capstone of my evening is. But Evander shares with me the mythology of the lykin and vampir—stories that I can tell are the grandmothers to the tales I was told growing up. He explains how young lykin do not come into their powers in full, transformations included, until they go before the great wolf spirit. We seem to effortlessly talk about anything and everything, so long as it doesn't have to do with either of us.

He doesn't ask. Neither do I. It's an unspoken agreement that suits us both.

But I know our habits will need to change the moment I see the next camp, larger than the last pack's. We can't be too consistent here or people will take notice. Which is why when I am dismounting Evander I make it a point to pretend to twist my ankle and fall dramatically.

Conri is there in an instant, shifting from his wolf form to his human form and wrapping his arms around me before I can hit the ground. He's on one knee, clutching me to him. When he studies my face, what looks like genuine worry is alight in his eyes. No doubt a show for all the others that are gathered.

"Faelyn, are you all right? What's wrong?" he asks. His attention shifts to Evander, now a man standing over us. His eyes narrow slightly. "What did you do to her?"

"No, no," I say hastily, suddenly worried my ploy has turned sour. "It wasn't him. Merely my own clumsiness when dismounting."

Conri continues to give Evander a hard stare. For his part, the knight stands there passively, expression unreadable. I lift a hand and rest it on Conri's cheek, guiding his face back to me.

"Truly, my darling, it is just a small sprain."

"We shall stay an extra day, no, two days here," he declares. "That way you have ample time to heal."

"I might be able to assist as well." Aurora steps forward. "I could activate my powers within her to help her flesh mend, as it helps mine in this form."

"Yes." Rather than releasing me, Conri slips his arm under my knees, the other still holding my shoulders. He hoists me up and I can't stop a small noise of surprise. My hand grips his shoulder for balance; the strong muscle is as hard as rock under my fingers. "Set up the tent for the moon spirit," he barks, and lykin immediately begin moving. "I will take my future queen there myself." Conri gives Evander a side-eye as he brushes past.

"It truly wasn't his fault." I dare to rise to Evander's defense, keeping my voice light and playful. "If anything, it is your fault for deciding to take such a clumsy woman for a bride."

"I am the wolf king, I do not make mistakes," he says with a slight smirk. Thank the old gods my jest worked. "And I know Evander is a good man and would never go against my wishes." I work to keep any reaction to that proclamation to myself and just keep smiling. "It is simply that I do not wish to see any harm come to what is mine."

What is mine … The words sit as uneasy with me as the majority of Conri's other statements. They're small wordings, little things that betray his true intentions and the way he actually perceives this relationship. I am as much a thing to him as the ring was. Nothing more.

By the time we arrive at the usual placement for Aurora's tent, it is nearly finished being set up. Conri walks inside and sets me down on the cot. Aurora is close behind. Bardulf is positioned outside the entry.

"Ensure she is mended." His eyes remain on me as he speaks, fingertips trailing down my jaw. "For I wish her to be in top form for tonight."

"Yes, my king." Aurora bows her head as he leaves.

As soon as the tent flap closes behind Conri, I make a gagging expression nearly at the same time as Aurora. We both share a look, and the snort of a barely contained, bitter laugh. She quickly sobers and sits on the cot next to me. We don't exchange a word for another minute. It's a good thing, because Conri's voice is muffled by the canvas as he exchanges low words with Bardulf that I can't distinguish. But, after another few moments, he's gone.

"I assume you're actually all right?" Aurora nods to my ankle. She keeps her voice low.

"I am." I move my foot in a circle. "I wanted to ensure I had some time with you and our routine was likely to be thrown off by the new camp."

She nods. "Luckily, Conri should be meeting with the alpha of this camp tonight, so we have some time."

I shift off the cot, sitting on the grass. My left hand, I place out on my knee, fingers up. My right hand I dig into the earth at my side. It's the meditative position she's put me in for the past few days as we've been traveling. A hand on the earth. Fingers to the sky. Ears and heart open with a large inhale, my eyes fluttering closed.

"Today, we shall actually attempt to call upon a spirit," Aurora says softly, shifting behind me. She kneels, resting both hands on my shoulders.

"What?" I whisper. So far I've spent days just meditating, feeling the flow of energy through my body, her energy through her, and our place in the world.

"You're going to call her to you," Aurora says. "But not with your voice…with your magic and mine."

My pulse quickens. "What will I do first?"

"Clear your mind and find the magic as you have before. Find the threads of my power woven into you and pull upon them," she instructs in a slow, steady tone.

Within my mind's eye, I imagine my soul as a large swath of canvas. Every experience, every meeting, is carefully embroidered in colorful thread. There are the threads that still smell of woodsmoke from Grandma's hearth—from our home burning to dust. Threads that are too hot to touch that stretch out into oblivion, connecting me with Folost, wherever he might currently reside. There are threads of bright red, the color of passion and blood and all the ties that bind. Threads of deepest blue, of starless nights consumed by endless tears and hollow heartache.

Among them all is a thread of pale moonlight. Lightly looped into me, stretching behind to tie into Aurora's soul. My fingers twitch as I imagine myself grabbing it.

"Her name is Brundil, and she is the spirit of the earth."

"The spirit of the earth?" My eyes nearly open with surprise, as if by seeing I could somehow ensure my understanding of what she said. Aurora has positioned herself behind me. "Someone so grand? I'm not?—"

"Worthy?" Aurora finishes for me. I can hear the slight grin to her voice. "Faelyn, you are most worthy. You are bound with the spirit of the moon, someone equally grand."

"Your might is not my own." I look over my shoulder and back at her. "I would never presume to take credit for your greatness; I am merely its temporary steward."

"And that is what makes you all the more worthy to carry it within you." She dips her chin and her eyes meet mine. "Now, I would like to see my old friend, if you don't mind?"

"Of course not. But…could you not just call upon her?" I ask.

"Not split as I am." A sad, slight smile graces her lips, only for a second. "When I had the ring in hand…it was barely enough connection to my full might to make my way across the tides and through the Fade."

I know she doesn't intend it, but I can't help the guilt that streaks through me. As if it is somehow my fault her powers weren't returned to her that night. If I hadn't been there…

"But you have enough to do it, with the magic you already possessed." Aurora squeezes my shoulder warmly. "Now, Brundil."

"Right." I shift, facing forward again, and close my eyes, returning my focus inward. Once I have my mental fingertips on Aurora's power, I speak. Even though I use my voice, it feels as though the words are not formed with my breath but, instead, formed by the power within me. "Brundil, I, Faelyn, a humble weaver witch, call upon you with an open heart and good intentions." As if with a mind of their own, my fingers sink deeper into the earth. "I seek you not only as an ally, but as a friend."

At first, nothing happens. But I feel a shifting deep within. An unfurling of magic, like a line cast out far, far beyond myself. And then a tug. A connection was made. A metaphorical fish took the bait.

But there is nothing fishlike about the creature that emerges before me.

The ground sags, prompting my eyes to open. The earth has turned to liquid, swirling before me, grasses churning into hard dirt, and richer, deeper soil beneath. And from that primordial churning, a figure rises.

It is childlike in nature. The mighty spirit of the earth looks like a girl no older than ten. Her skin is cracked mud and patches of moss. Her legs are wooden, fingers spindly roots. From her head, long grasses grow, tangling with flowering vines.

She sits before me, cross-legged and head tilted to the side. Her eyes, two smooth river rocks, revolve in their sockets as she looks from Aurora to me.

"I was wondering when you would call on me, Faelyn the witch," she says finally. Her voice is deep and cracking, like wood splitting the silence of a winter's day.

"You…know me?" I whisper. Not just because I don't want anyone else to hear, but also because I am drawn to reverent silence before this primordial creature. Vaguely, I wonder how different Aurora might look and feel when she is freed from her mortal form and reunited with her power. Will she resemble the woman at all as I know her? Even if she doesn't, I know my heart will recognize her.

"Mary has told me much of you over the years."

"Is she well?" I immediately ask.

"She is."

"I'm so glad." I can't stop a smile at the mention of my dear friend. "She has always been a good companion to me."

"And you to her, it would seem." Brundil's eyes shift again. "Aurora, it has been some time since you last called upon me."

"A few millennia, yes. Forgive me, friend." Aurora releases my shoulders, shifting to my side. "But I could feel you in every sodden earth of summer, every flower-filled day of spring."

"It is truly a crime against nature itself, what they have done to you." Brundil reaches out, cupping Aurora's cheek gently. "I miss our dances."

"As do I."

"I am going to restore Aurora's power," I dare to interject.

"Says the person who currently holds it." Brundil releases Aurora and casts a suspicious tone my way.

"It was an accident," Aurora speaks for me. "Faelyn has only been good to me. I believe her word that she will be the one to finally free me."

"And when we make our move, I would like to call upon you again," I say to the earth spirit. "If you would let me."

Brundil leans back, looking mildly offended. "I am not some minor spirit to be at the beck and call of a little witch."

"I…" My gaze drops. Little witch. That's always been the fear, hasn't it? That everything I am and everything I could be won't amount to much. The protections I tried to keep for the humans in the Natural World…the barrier so easily shredded.

But my magic wasn't bad … Quite the contrary. My conversation with Evander returns to me. Not just anyone could break it—it took a lykin, a magical being, with knowledge of witches and with the aid of a strong spirit. I try to remind myself of what I have accomplished and sit a little taller.

Meeting Brundil's eyes with purpose, I say, "Even someone of the least skill, and smallest stature, can do incredible things. I might be a ‘little witch' but I am also your friend's ally and currently her best chance to be free. Do not mistake stature for capability."

The earth spirit tilts her head in the opposite direction.

I continue, "And I would not want you at my ‘beck and call.' I respect you, Lady Brundil. I wouldn't waste your time. But I do not think asking you to help us escape would be a waste."

A slight smile curls her lips. Mud cracks and flakes off to the ground with each of her movements, landing as petals that are instantly decomposed into the soil. She's a constantly growing and changing spirit.

"The trees and stones of the forest by the redwood offshoot spoke highly of you, as did Mary…and Aurora. I suppose I can put my faith in you, little witch." When she says it this time, it no longer sounds like an offense. But, rather, a term of endearment.

I reach into the satchel at my side, pulling out my grandma's—my sewing kit. I take out a length of thread, and hum softly as I loop it around my fingers. I only ever watched Grandma perform this act once. Yet…it's imprinted on my soul. I know the motions as if on instinct.

When I raise my hand, the thread lifts into the air, fighting gravity itself. Brundil mirrors the motion, lifting her spindly hand as well, too many rooty fingers to be human. The thread loops around her digits, pulling our wrists together until our fingertips touch.

Locking eyes with her, I say, "Brundil of earth, I bind myself to you. Let there not be a day that I do not bask in your wonder, am not satiated by the creatures of your lands, and am not comforted by the magic that courses from you, all around me."

Her fingers lace with mine and the thread explodes into stardust, fading from view. Tiny flowers pop up along her roots. She gives a smile and nods before sinking back into the ground.

I stare in wonder as the grasses return to their previous positions. There is no sign that she was ever there.

Aurora rests her hand once more on my shoulder. "Well done."