She leads us to the middle of the room and turns, appraising us. When her eyes land on Gavin, she frowns. He stands straighter, on guard, as she walks toward him. She presses her lips together, smiling like a cat as she runs a solitary finger down his arm. “You’re human.”
Gavin gives her a curt nod, obviously disliking the attention.
“As are we,” Marcus points out, motioning to himself and me.
Galetta’s answering laugh grates on my nerves. “Yes, but you both are magic users.” She turns back to Gavin. “This man…is not. We don’t see many humans on this side of the rift.”
Several moments go by before Marcus finally says, “We would like to see Evie.”
Galetta pulls her eyes from my guard. “She’s sleeping, poor dear. I don’t wish to overwhelm her while she’s so weak. I’ll take you back, one at a time.”
She’s splitting us up.
The men begin to protest, but she holds up a hand, silencing them, her eyes flashing. Slowly, she turns to Gavin, giving him her full attention. “Surely we can keep this civil? After all, I would hate someone to get hurt…”
As she says the words, I feel the warm tingle of magic as it surrounds my chest, but then it squeezes like a fist. I stumble forward as my lungs contract, nearly falling to my knees.
“No!” Gavin yells.
Immediately, Galetta lets the magic fall, and I can breathe once more.
“You’ll cooperate then?” she asks him sweetly.
“Gavin,” I beg, “no—”
“I will,” he says.
I watch, helpless, as Galetta leads Gavin to a door. He glances back before he passes through, his gaze meeting mine. Silently, he promises he’ll be careful. And then he’s gone.
32
The faerie witch is beautiful, the kind of beautiful that’s as terrifying as it is alluring, but there is nothing about her that draws me.
I follow Galetta through a door, fully expecting a trap but hoping Rune will take this opportunity to leave the group and find Eva.
It’s no surprise the room appears to be empty save a few settees and a low table—not a swan or elven woman in sight.
“Are you thirsty?” Galetta asks, walking to a decanter on the table. “It’s a long journey from the gateway to the castle when you’re traveling by foot.”
“No, thank you.”
She looks at me, amused. “Someone has warned you away from our refreshments. Surely you trust me, though?”
I face her, my expression blank. “Madame, I trust no one.”
The faerie witch laughs, a seductive sound. “Then you are wiser than your sorcerer companion.” With a flick of her hand, the crystal goblets and wine disappear. “Very well. If you don’t wish for refreshment, how about entertainment?”
Even as I decline, she casts a stream of ethereal blue magic around the room. Before my eyes, the stone melts away, and I’m standing in a small church. Sun shines in through the stained-glass windows, and soft music plays. I turn when the back door opens, and there, coming toward me, is Brynn. She wears a simple gown of white, and she beams at me, looking as radiant as I’ve ever seen her.
My family sits in the pews—Mother and William, Aunt Brunhilda and Uncle Garrett. Brynn’s sister and her husband are here as well, and they hold a baby wrapped in soft white blankets. The women in attendance smile as they dab handkerchiefs to their eyes.
“Enjoy your show,” Galetta whispers in my ear, and then she’s gone.
I turn back to Brynn, my heart hammering in my chest. Unable to help myself, I reach for her. But instead of taking my hand, she walks right through me as if I am a ghost. I turn around and inhale sharply. There, at the front of the church, a man waits for his bride.
And that man is me.
I watch, fully entranced, as Brynn smiles at me as if I am her world. She promises to love me, to honor me, to stay by my side through sickness and health, no matter if we make our fortune or remain poor for the rest of our lives.
Just as we kiss, the scene changes, and the pews fade away. I watch as a slightly older version of me stands outside a small cottage, cutting wood. There’s a forge to the side, something that looks recently used. The door of the cottage opens, and Brynn steps out, carrying a small child that has silver-blond hair and my mother’s eyes. My beloved Lady Decarra, born of noble blood, wears a simple brown dress with a white apron. She looks like the wife of a common blacksmith, but she smiles at me, appearing as content as I’ve ever seen her.
My chest knots as I stare at the baby. The Gavin of the future tosses his ax aside and grins, opening his arms to his girls.
“I received a letter from Charity this morning,” Brynn says. “According to her, Father is coming around. They’d like us to visit soon.”
Before I answer, the scene shifts again.
This time, we’re in the cottage. It’s a little too cool, but the fire burns brightly. There are two babies now, both asleep on a cot by the fire. Brynn is alone. She stands by the window, looking into the night.
There’s a clang of metal, and when I stand behind her, I see my vision-self at the forge.
Brynn sighs and lets the drape fall before she sits by the fire, picks up a stocking from the nearby basket, and begins to darn a hole in the heel.
When did Brynn learn to sew?
The color is gone from her cheeks, and dark smudges frame her eyes. She falls asleep in the chair waiting for me to finish.
Hours later, I watch as I walk through the door. The Gavin of this odd dream-state studies her before he closes his eyes and rests his head against the wall, running a hand over his face. After several minutes, he walks across the room and pulls her into his arms.
“Are you finished?” she asks him, barely awake.
“For the night.”
I’m left feeling slightly unsettled when the scene fades again. This time, Brynn leans over one of the children on the cot. Worry etches her face as she presses her hand to the girl’s forehead. Even from here, I can see the flush of fever. The child doesn’t stir as Brynn gently brushes the girl’s hair away from her cheeks.
Then Brynn sits in a chair by the cot and presses her hands to her face. Her shoulders begin to shake, but I’m helpless to comfort her. The girl stirs, crying out for her mother. Brynn quickly wipes the tears away, puts on a brave smile, and asks the girl if she would like some water.
The scene shifts again, and I take several steps back, wanting to escape.
We’re behind the church, surrounded by our friends and family. They’re all dressed in black. Our oldest child clings to my mother, her eyes wide and haunted. Brynn leans against her Gavin, sobbing into his shirt as a tiny casket is lowered into the ground.
“No,” I say to myself, shaking my head as I begin to tremble. I turn away from the scene, refusing to watch.
“I am sorry for your loss, but this is what happens when you marry a poor man,” Lord Calvin quietly says to Brynn before he strides from the churchyard. “You can’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Over and over the scenes change, each more painful than the last. I close my eyes, refusing to watch, wishing I could block out the voices as well.
After losing our second-born daughter, Brynn becomes distant. I work far too much, and yet we’re always poor. No matter how hard I toil, I can never give Brynn the life she deserves.
I jerk my head up when I hear Marcus, but it’s only in this strange vision. Brynn is older now, likely thirty years. She stands in the middle of a village square, arguing with a woman over the price of eggs.
She turns around, startled by the familiar voice.
“Marcus,” she says, a smile lighting her face.
The sorcerer swings down from his horse, frowning at the woman who was once his apprentice. They make small talk, and Brynn fakes cheer, telling him she’s happy, that she and I created a beautiful home.
Marcus hesitates after they say their goodbyes. Suddenly, he pulls my wife into his arms, holding her for just
a moment too long. Then he’s riding down the street, leaving Brynn to haggle with the egg woman.
After carefully bundling her purchases, Brynn walks down the street, head held high, greeting those around her. But the moment she turns the corner and finds an empty stoop, she sinks to the ground and begins to cry.
And then I’m standing once more in the stone room, breathing hard, feeling very much like I’ve been hit with a bludgeon. Galetta lounges on a settee, shaking her head. “Oh, I’m sorry, Gavin. What an unpleasant thing to witness.”
My entire body shakes, and my stomach spasms as I fight the urge to be ill. “What was that?”
“The future.” She waves her hand. “Just a glimpse of it of course.”
“It wasn’t real. It was an illusion—you can’t know these things.”
Galetta frowns, pouting her scarlet lips. “Oh, Gavin—sweet, simple human. I’m sorry—I am—but everything you witnessed was real. If you marry Brynn, it will come to pass.”
“And why would I trust you, enchantress?”
She slowly rises from the settee and walks toward me, moving like a temptress, eyes locked on mine. I stand taller, my jaw locking as I fight the urge to shift back. But I refuse to cower.
Slowly, she circles a finger over my chest. “You should trust me because you’re a wise man. You knew the hardships Brynn would face with you before I ever revealed them.”
I stare at her, so tense my eye twitches. “What do you want from me?”
“I want to make a deal.”
“Like you made with Marcus?”
She laughs, amused. “Oh, I like you. No, not like I made with Marcus. Your sorcerer friend was a young fool, headstrong and cocky. But you are solid, reasonable, and I will be very honest with you.”
I wait for her to get to her point.
“All I want you to do is follow me back and tell Brynn you have no future together. Then you’ll leave the castle and walk back through the gateway you came through. If you can do that simple thing, I will release Eva the moment you cross.”
“Where will I end up if I cross through the gateway without a tether linking me to the other side?”
She gives me a slow shrug. “No one can say.”
And there’s the catch.
“Why would I do it?”
“Do you think Brynn will ever give up on you? Do you think she’ll let you be valiant and walk away? Of course she won’t. But after you step through the gateway, you will be separated forever. Brynn will have no choice but to move on.”
“It will destroy her.”
Galetta slowly lifts her brows, questioning me. “More than losing a child?”
The memory pierces my core.
“How do you benefit from this?”
She gives me a small smile. “Please don’t take offense, but I would very much like to be rid of you. I’m afraid you’ve been in my way from the very beginning.”
“How so?”
“Marcus was stubborn. He believed that if he gave Eva enough time, she’d come to love him despite his transgressions. We would have waited an eternity, so I helped things along.” She holds up a hand, stopping me when I begin to protest. “I didn’t do much really. A nudge here, a nudge there. Mostly, I busted an axle at a convenient time and let it play out.”
“Why Brynn?” I demand, my voice like stone.
“Don’t work yourself up. She wasn’t the first girl I threw Marcus’s way. She just happened to be the perfect girl for him.” The faerie witch raises a mocking eyebrow. “Like fate.”
Unable to help myself, I let out a small snarl.
“But she is so obnoxiously loyal to you.” She runs her hand down my arm, smiling to herself. “Not that I don’t see why.”
“Why would you do this?”
“I so enjoy games, and I’ve been bored the last several years.”
My hand twitches over the hilt of my blade. The movement catches her attention, and she laughs, looking genuinely delighted. “Oh, Gavin. You can’t kill a fay with cold steel.”
“How can I trust that you’ll be true to your word?”
“Because I’ve been very honest with you, haven’t I? Have I tried to trick you? Sweet talk you with flowery words, promising your complete and total happiness?”
I stare at her.
“I have not.” She sighs, stepping back, finally giving me room to breathe. “Our elven friend is likely scouring the castle as we speak, looking for Eva. I am confident he’ll break my spell—unless she dies first, which she will if Marcus falls in love with Brynn. And believe me when I tell you, the sorcerer is close—so very close. And who do you think will step in to comfort Brynn after you break her heart? If that doesn’t push him over the edge, nothing will.”
“You are wicked.”
She presses a hand to her chest as if offended. “I, more than anyone, want a happy ending for all, but even you must admit success is far sweeter when the stakes are high.”
“A happy ending for all…except me.”
“There are five players in a game that was designed for four. I’m sorry, Gavin. You are the odd man out—but you were never meant to be here.”
Growling, I rub my hands over my face. Isn’t that the way it’s always been?
“Listen,” she says, almost as if she’s taking pity on me—or growing impatient. “I cannot promise Eva will make it out of this alive, but I swear to you Brynn will walk away unscathed—no terms, no conditions. Just my solemn oath. Now tell me, is that enough for you?”
33
I turn to Marcus, fear nearly suffocating me. “Where did she take him?” I demand.
Marcus places his hand on my arm, offering me comfort, but he turns to Rune. “Go—find Evie. She’s likely in the western wing, in one of the rooms.”
Rune is already on his way, jogging through a side door.
“Where is she taking Gavin?” I demand, yanking Marcus’s arm, making him look at me.
“He’s only human—she can’t do anything to him unless he consents. It’s her weakness. She can toy with him, try her hand at manipulation, but he’s safe from direct magic. She’s likely detained him somewhere.”
“Why?”
“Out of the four of us, Gavin poses the greatest threat. She can’t track him, can’t sense him, and can’t use his own magic against him—because he has none. She could try to attack him physically, I suppose, but I have a feeling the guard can hold his own.” He flashes me a wry look that eases my doubts, if only by a little.
“She can’t hurt him?” I ask, needing to hear it again.
“As I said…not physically.”
Something about that sounds more ominous than comforting. I pace the room, waiting for the witch to return.
“I see your companion has slipped off like a mouse,” Galetta says as she finally strides back into the room. She looks far too amused for my liking.
“What have you done with Gavin?” I demand even though Marcus warned me I wasn’t to speak with her.
But as soon as the words are out of my mouth, I let out a relieved breath. Gavin is right behind her…but he doesn’t look well. He wears a weary look of defeat that strikes fear in my heart.
“Gavin?” I whisper.
Slowly, he walks to me, apologies written across his face.
I begin to shake my head, backing up. “Anything she’s told you or tried to make you believe is a lie.”
He takes me by the arms and looks down. “I’m going back through the gateway. Alone.”
“You can’t do that,” Marcus interrupts. “You have no tether on the other side.”
“I know that—I have no idea where I’ll end up. But Galetta has shown me a glimpse of our future, and Brynn…it’s devastating. It’s time we end this once and for all, and I’m not strong enough to stay away from you on my own.”
“She’s a viper,” I snarl at a whisper, unable to believe what I’m hearing. Gavin disappears with the witch for thirty minutes, and he’s already renegin
g on the promise he made less than twenty-four hours ago? “Do not—”
“I love you.” His blue eyes lock on mine. “Never doubt it.”
“You cannot be serious,” I snarl. “This has nothing to do with us! We’re here to help Rune!”
He leans down, looking at me intently—making me really look at him. “What did I tell you in the forest the morning after you ran?”
It hits me like a thunderstorm. Gavin knelt on the ground and swore his blade—said he wouldn’t leave me until I sent him away.
I stare at him and then slowly lie, “That you’ll always love me, even if we can’t be together.”
“Remember that,” he says, raising his brows, a brief smile flashing across his face because he knows I understand.
Gavin isn’t leaving.
I hide my relief, though it’s enough to make me melt onto the floor.
“Goodbye, Brynn,” he says, and then he yanks me into his arms and gives me a goodbye kiss that makes me doubt, just for a moment. I cling to him when he backs up, not ready to let him walk away. He might not be going through that gateway, but he is plotting something, and I have a terrible feeling that something is dangerous.
“Gavin,” I breathe as he gently pries my hands from his shoulders.
“It’ll be all right,” he promises as he backs away.
Tears sting my eyes and then trail down my face—not because I’m a particularly gifted performer, but because I am honestly terrified. When it comes to protecting me, the man is a fool. Who knows what he’s capable of?
I begin to shake my head. “Please…”
“I love you,” he says again.
“Gavin.”
“Always.”
Why does this sound like a real goodbye? Surely I didn’t misunderstand? He’s not actually going through that gateway, is he?
“Gavin!” I yell as he steps out the door, running forward.
“Stay here, Brynn,” he says, his eyes on mine. Then he shuts the door between us.
The Sorceress in Training: A Retelling of The Sorcerer’s Apprentice Page 20