14. In the Shadow of the Witch Queen

14

IN THE SHADOW OF THE WITCH QUEEN

(ROWENA)

A s we near Solavien, I start to feel magic in the air. It’s different from the one inside of me; it’s more tense and heavier. We’re still in the forest, but now, the vines are hanging low like curtains, the trees stand higher, and fungi line the path.

“Do you feel that?” I ask, glancing at Riven.

He nods. “I do. We’re getting close.”

“Do you think they’ll accept us?”

Riven sighs. “Elves are the least friendly people in the faction,” he says. “They won’t accept us easily. But I’m the Fae prince; I know they won’t hurt us because they won’t want a war with my father.”

“Oh, that’s great. At least, our safety is guaranteed.”

Riven smiles wistfully. “As long as they don’t capture us and send a message to my Dad. I’m not confident he’ll come to save me.”

“Then we’ll save ourselves.” I continue walking, ignoring Riven’s gaze. Throughout the day, we’ve been careful to give each other space because, after the kiss, we’ve suddenly become more conscious of one another.

I wish he would kiss me again, but I’m grateful we stopped before things got too complicated. I’m content just knowing he feels as strongly for me as I feel for him, even though I’m afraid that it’ll end here. We have no future together.

The elf village seems to emerge from thin air. One minute, we’re plunging deeper into the forest on foot; the next, we’re stepping into a clearing, and the village is up ahead, guarded by a crystal gate.

“Whoa!” I ground to a stop, my eyes wide at the beauty that spreads before me. “Riven, it’s so beautiful.”

“Why’s there no one at the gate?” He asks with narrowed eyes as we walk towards it. “Elves are really conscious of security.”

Before he can finish speaking, two elf guards appear at the gate, their faces tight with tension.

“Prince Riven,” one of them says. “What brings you here?”

Riven and I exchange glances. I’m not even surprised that they know him.

“I need to get to the spiritual realm,” Riven says. “Let us through.”

The elves exchange glances and then shake their heads. “The spiritual realm is only open to elves. Turn around and go back to where you came from.”

Riven steps forward, his eyes flashing. “You won’t speak to me like that,” he says confidently. “Take me to your King.”

The guards stay silent for a second before nodding. “Come with us.”

Excitement bursts in my veins as the guards take us into the elf village. Riven stands close to me, and in his presence, I feel safe. Elves emerge from their homes to watch us as we walk past, and I can’t take my eyes off them. They’re tall and slender, with luminous skin, cropped hair, and pointed ears. I’ve never seen one up close.

The guard leads us into what looks like a hall located at the root of a tall tree. A gathering of four elders is waiting for us, and I wonder how they knew we were coming. They are taller than the average elf, with cloaks long enough to trail behind them. Their expressions are as stern as Riven, and I stop in front of them.

“A fae and a witch,” one of them, who I assume is the leader, spits viciously at us.

“I’m Prince Riven of?—”

“We know who you are,” he answers. “And we know why you’re in Solavien.”

“We must advise you to return to your kingdom, Prince Riven,” the second elf adds. “We cannot help you.”

“You can,” Riven insists. “I must break the curse that plagues me, and only the key in the spiritual realm can help me.”

A murmur ripples through the gathering. “Why should we help? After the betrayal we have suffered in the hands of the Fae?” The third elf barks. “Your father hates us. He has betrayed us so many times, yet he makes false promises during the alliance festival.”

Riven starts to respond, but I gently touch his arm and step forward. Their gazes rest on me, and they’re even more unimpressed.

“And who are you?”

“You called me a witch earlier,” I answered. “But that’s not who I really am.”

They exchange glances.

“I’m an outcast. I haven’t lived in the witch coven since I was born. I know betrayal, and even more, I know how much of a scarce commodity trust is. Your distrust is not unfounded, but please, this isn’t King Faelor; this is Prince Riven.”

The elders exchange glances again before giving Riven another perusal.

“Riven is different from his father, and once the curse is lifted, he can truly begin to make change for all of us.”

After my speech, the elders remain silent, and I hold my breath, quietly praying they will grant us their grace.

“Very well,” the first elder answers. “But we can’t grant you passage into the spiritual realm because it’s not a physical destination. It’s a plane.”

“What do you mean?” Riven asks.

“Come with us.”

The elders lead us to a tree. Even before we near, we feel its power. It stretches up to the sky, with huge branches that spread like a protective cocoon.

“This is the Taker Tree,” the first elder says. “It’s the passageway into the spiritual realm.”

“How do we enter?” Riven frowns.

“Before it lets you in, you must give it whatever it requests.”

“What does it request?” I ask.

“It’s different for everyone,” an elder replies. “No one has been able to enter the realm in a long time because the Taker Tree always requires a huge sacrifice. Most people think they want to enter the realm until they realize there’s something in their life they can’t give up. Your need to enter the realm must be greater than everything in your life.”

Riven glances at me as if asking if I'm ready. I nod silently.

“We’re ready,” he says, and the elders sigh.

“Very well.”

The leader walks to the tree and knocks three times. To my shock, the tree takes a huge breath and lights up, the branches glowing like a thousand fireflies.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” An elder smiles at me. “But it’s as beautiful as it is cruel.”

Suddenly, a translucent elf being appears from the tree, its body flowing like it’s made of water. It stares at us with a grim expression.

“Who dares bother me?” It asks.

The leader glances at us. “This fae and witch require access into the spiritual realm.”

The being eyes us skeptically. “Are you willing to give the Taker Tree whatever it wants?”

Riven glances at me again, and I nod. “Yes.”

“Very well.” The being disappears into the tree, and we all wait in silence, holding our breaths. I’m curious as to what the tree will require from me because I don’t have much in my life. Riven is a rich Fae prince who will probably be able to afford more.

The being appears again, looking grimmer than before.

“I will make the requests now,” it says. “But be mindful that you only have a moment to fulfill it. Also, you can only come to the Taker Tree once in your lifetime.”

Riven gasps. “Wait,” he says. “Does that mean that if we can’t fulfill the tree’s requests, it’s over? We would never be granted access again in this lifetime.”

“Yes,” the being snaps. “So, would you like to return and think about this properly? Or should we go on?”

Riven turns to me again for the umpteenth time. “Rowena?”

“We can do this, Riven. Think about our journey; we can’t go back.”

He nods. “We’re ready.”

The being nods. “For the Fae prince,” it announces. “The tree requires a fraction of your magical essence. You have powerful royal blood, and your magic is pure.”

I let out a shaky breath.

“Riven.” I grab his arm. A fraction of his essence means a fraction of his magic. And “fraction” is a bit too ambiguous for my liking; there’s no telling how much of his magic the tree would take.

Before I can talk to Riven, he answers loudly, “I accept.”

“Riven!” But there’s a determined look in his eyes, and he doesn’t glance my way.

“For the witch,” the being looks at me. “The tree says you also have pure and powerful magic, but it’s of no personal value to you.”

“So what does it want?” I snap, still angry about Riven’s magic. “I don’t have anything. My magic is the only important thing in my life.”

“Not true,” the being smiles, and fear erupts in my blood. The tree wants a memory,” it says, “a moment of your joy to help light the spiritual realm.”

“What memory?” I ask.

“The tree will show you.”

Suddenly, a memory plays in my mind’s eye. I’m back in the Forest of Herbs with my mom, and it’s my fondest memory of her, days before her death.

She was the happiest I’d ever seen her, her smile wide enough to keep lighting my life five years after her death. That day, she told me how much she loved me and that she would always remain with me no matter what.

“Rowena.” Riven is suddenly in front of me, holding my face. “You’re crying.”

“What?” I touch my face, and truly, it’s wet with tears. “I’m not.”

“You are,” he insists, wiping my tears with his thumb. “What’s the memory?”

“You have a short moment,” the being says. “Make your decision.”

“Riven—”

“Forget about him.” Riven frowns at me. “What is the memory?”

“Of my mom,” I answer, telling him everything.

“You will not give that up,” he says seriously. “I won’t let you.”

“Riven, stop, we have no choice.”

“I will go in alone.” Riven turns to the being. “Let her stay.”

“Too late.” The being shrugs unapologetically. “Even if you go in alone, you must both fulfill the tree’s requests.”

“That’s unfair,” Riven snaps.

“Rules are rules, Prince.”

I push Riven out of the way and face the being bravely. “I—” The rest of my words end in a gasp when Riven clamps his hands over my mouth, silencing me.

“You only have a few seconds,” the being snarls. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

I kick and claw at Riven, struggling to get him off me, but his hands remain clasped over my mouth, keeping me from giving up the memory of my mother. The next few seconds are full of tension until; eventually, the being floats back into the tree, disappearing from us forever.

In the next moment, the tree shuts down, and Riven lets me go.

“What have you done?” I snap at him. “You’ve lost your opportunity to get the key!”

“If getting the key means losing that memory of your mom, then I don’t want it,” he answers calmly.

“But it’s my mom!” I argue. “I have other memories of her, Riven. The key was more important.”

“That’s what you think now,” he says, unruffled by my fury. “But if that memory weren’t special to you, the tree would not want it.”

He’s right.

“Riven, you will completely turn into stone on the night of the lunar eclipse,” I answer sadly. “I can’t live with that. I was willing to make the sacrifice because I love you.”

“Then you shouldn’t be upset with me,” he answers. “I made the same sacrifice because I love you. The little time we have left, let’s spend it together.”