I reach for the handle, but it doesn’t budge. I whirl around, looking for the witch.
“It’s locked,” she says simply, looking far too happy with herself. “Now look at you—you’re a fine mess. I’ll give you a minute to collect yourself.”
She drifts out of the room, probably off to find Rune.
I turn to Marcus, panicking. “What do we do?”
The sorcerer stares at the closed doors, shaking his head as if at a loss.
“We can’t just stand here!”
He shakes himself. “You’re right. But Gavin won’t reach the gateway until morning at the earliest. For now, let’s try to find Eva.”
Together, we cross the entry, heading for the hall in which Rune disappeared. The door is locked. We try another door, this one leading to the east. It’s locked as well.
In fact, all the doors are locked.
“She’s trapped us!” I snarl, smacking the last door with the palm of my hand. Then I turn to Marcus. “Can’t you unlock it?”
“As I told you before, I can’t use magic here. It only makes Galetta stronger.”
I sink to the floor, dropping my head in my hands. “You were right. I shouldn’t have come.”
Marcus lowers himself, sitting in front of me and crossing his legs. He takes my hands and pulls them away from my face. I expect the sorcerer to try to comfort me, but he doesn’t make a move. We sit for the longest time, in silence.
After a long while, Marcus says, “I’m sorry Gavin left.”
I blink back frustrated tears. “He didn’t. But I have no idea what he’s plotting, and that makes me anxious.”
When I look up, I find Marcus frowning, his expression sympathetic. Softly, he says, “Are you certain?”
“Yes,” I answer immediately, but it’s a lie. I am nearly certain, but that’s not the same thing. “I don’t know.”
Marcus is quiet for several moments, and his silence makes me squirm.
“Just say what’s on your mind,” I finally demand.
“If he gave you up, I know it would hurt. But would you be all that surprised?”
“He promised to marry me before we came through the gateway. Gavin would never lie to me, not about that.”
Marcus leans closer, keeping me trapped in his green gaze. “The two of you don’t make sense—you know that.”
“I don’t care.”
“Perhaps, but he does.”
I shake my head.
Marcus looks down, staring at our hands. “But we—you and I—we do make sense.”
“Marcus—”
“And as soon as Rune releases Eva from the curse, I’m free.”
I close my eyes. “Please don’t.”
“And I know part of you cares for me.”
“I do—but not like that.”
“How can you be so sure?” Galetta says from a door behind us, smiling benevolently. “You’ve never given Marcus a chance. And he’s right. You do make sense. Imagine how pleased your parents will be when you return home with a powerful, influential sorcerer on your arm.”
Ripping my hands from Marcus, I scoot back.
“I know what you’re doing,” I say to her, hugging myself. “And it’s beyond cruel.”
“And what am I doing, young apprentice?” She laughs.
“You’re toying with each of us in turn, manipulating us by exploiting our greatest fears.” I stand, facing the enchantress, tugging away from Marcus even when he tries to pull me back. “You’re only hoping Marcus will fall in love with me so Eva will die.”
“I don’t want Eva to die. I’ve simply set my players, and now I’m waiting to see how it will pan out.”
“Have you no heart? No feelings whatsoever?”
She smirks. “No, I don’t believe so.”
“We are not playthings here for your amusement,” I say, stepping forward.
“Brynn, no,” Marcus warns, joining me on his feet, attempting to yank me back.
“Oh, but you are.” Galetta crosses the room, standing in front of me, smirking. “And I will amuse myself however I like.”
Standing tall, I stare at her, silently seething. I can’t use magic on her, and I have no weapons. I’m helpless, and it stings in the worst way.
Smirking, the faerie witch turns away.
“Galetta,” I say, drawing her attention once more.
The moment she turns back to me, I take a deep breath, grit my jaw, punch her square in the nose.
It’s not something I’ve ever done before, but I learned the mechanics of it in a book. I must not do a terrible job either, because Galetta’s head snaps back with the force of the impact. Marcus hollers behind me as the faerie witch stumbles, holding her face. Losing no time, determined to get the upper hand before Galetta has a chance to lash back with her magic, I plow into her, pushing her to the floor. I have no plan, no idea what I’m doing. I can only hope she can be knocked unconscious.
Just when I think this mad, half-schemed plan might actually work, the enchantress’s magic coils around my chest once more, squeezing the air right from my lungs.
34
Closing the door on Brynn is the hardest thing I’ve done in my life. I jog down the balcony courtyard and walk along the lake shore, toward the gate. I’m certain Galetta is keeping an eye on me, and I want her to believe I’m heading toward the rift, as we discussed.
Once I’m past the wall, however, it will be difficult for her to track my progress in the night, especially through the trees. There are simply too many orchards along the way.
As soon as I pass through the gate, I take a sharp right, following the protective wall instead of leaving it. It’s as tall as a three-story house, made of smooth rock. It will be nearly impossible to climb.
But somehow, I must, because Galetta was lying, and no one is safe in her fortress. Especially Brynn.
Even though it’s the last thing I want to remember, I let my mind dwell on the future Galetta showed me. It seemed so real at first; I truly believed it was a glimpse of what life would be if I were to marry Brynn.
But then, as I walked into the entry to say my goodbyes and take one last look at the girl I love, committing every single thing about her to memory, I realized something significant: the Brynn in the faerie witch’s vision did not have an apprentice mark. And my Brynn will carry the mark for as long as she lives.
It wasn’t the future as Galetta claimed. It was a nightmare the enchantress concocted, a tool used to coerce me into leaving. And it almost worked.
Almost.
My agitated thoughts quicken my pace. I must get back in and help Rune. As long as Galetta has Eva, she has leverage over us all. If I want to save Brynn, I have to start with the swan-cursed elven woman.
And I’ll have to trust that Marcus will keep Brynn safe in the meantime.
I stop when I believe I’m at the rear of the castle and face the wall, planning my ascent.
Many trees grow nearby, just barely taller than the wall itself. The top branches will be too flimsy to hold my weight, but perhaps I can make the leap.
And fall to my death on the other side.
I have no choice but to try. I climb the tree closest to the wall, praying there’s another tree on the other side so I’ll be able to crawl down. Finally, I reach the last branch I believe will hold my weight. The tree sways back and forth, giving me an idea.
Gritting my teeth, refusing to let myself look at the ground, I lean forward. As I hoped, the tree leans with me. I’m in a precarious position, but not quite close enough to jump.
Closing my eyes, wondering if I’ve gone mad, I lean in the opposite direction, taking the tree as far is it will go, and then swiftly swing forward. The move gives me just enough momentum, and I leap for the wall when I’m at my closest point.
Unfortunately, I misjudge the distance and pass the wall completely, ending up in a tree on the other side. I reach out, desperate to grab hold of something. Branches slip through my grasp, and twig
s swat my face as I fall. Finally, I catch a limb. My body jerks to an abrupt halt, nearly ripping my arm out of its socket.
For one moment, I hang here, gasping for breath. Then I lower myself to the next branch and climb the rest of the way down. Once I’m on my feet, I assess the damage. My tunic is torn, but that matters little. My arm aches like I was stretched on a rack, but I can move it, so it must not be dislocated.
My hands are scratched up, and I’m assuming my face must be as well for how it stings.
But there doesn’t seem to be any permanent damage done. I check for my short sword and dagger. Both are in place, so I head toward the castle.
I walk through an arch, into a garden, and follow the castle wall until I find an unlocked door. Carefully, I push it open, half expecting to meet a servant or guard on the other side. But the room is empty.
Quickly, I begin my sweep of the corridors. It doesn’t take me long to realize the castle is eerie—more like an elaborate prop in a stage play than an actual home. Most of the rooms are completely empty, with no furniture, rugs, or art. No decor hangs on the walls. There is no sign of life whatsoever.
Where is Galetta keeping Eva?
I’m just about to turn down the next hall when I hear a faint scream from below. It’s female, but it doesn’t sound like Brynn. I begin to jog, pulling my sword from its sheath. Another cry, this one most certainly the faerie witch, rings through the grand foyer as I rush down the stairway, hurrying toward the entry.
Galetta stands opposite Marcus, hands raised in the air, white magic like lightning coming from her palms. Tears and blood run down the enchantress’s face, making her look mad.
The two fight—sorcerer against faerie witch, but it’s apparent from the haggard expression on Marcus’s face that he’s losing and the enchantress is getting stronger.
Frantic, I look for Brynn. All the air leaves my lungs when I find her on the floor, just beyond Marcus, eyes closed, too still.
Red-hot fury blurs my vision. I charge forward, sword raised. The faerie witch turns, her mouth falling open in panic when her eyes drop to my blade, but it’s too late.
She crumples to the ground, apparently having lied about her immunity to steel as she lied about everything else.
But it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but Brynn.
I run to her, tossing the soiled blade aside, and drop to my knees.
Marcus stumbles to the ground not far away, gasping for breath. “Is she…? I tried to distract Galetta.”
Terrified, I feel for a pulse, and then I double over, resting my forehead on Brynn's stomach, letting out a choked sob.
“I can save her.” Marcus groans as he rolls over and pushes himself onto all fours, crawling across the cold stone to reach the girl I love. “Give me room.”
“Stop.” I hold up a hand. “She’s alive.”
Marcus collapses to the floor, relieved and exhausted. I have no idea how close the man is to dying himself.
“Brynn,” I say gently, pressing my hand to her cheek. “Wake up, Brynn.”
Her eyes flutter and then finally open. She draws in a sharp breath, clutching her chest, and then focuses on me.
“Gavin,” she breathes, throwing her arms around my neck. “You came back.”
“Someone had to slay the witch,” I murmur, glancing at the fallen enchantress.
Brynn pushes herself up, and her eyes land on Galetta’s still body. Then they travel to Marcus. She gasps when she sees the prone sorcerer. “Marcus!”
He waves her concern away. “I’m fine.”
She turns back to me, rubbing her chest as if it hurts. “I punched her. I’m afraid all I managed to do was make her angry.”
“Very angry,” Marcus adds.
I stare at Brynn. “You punched an enchantress?”
“Marcus told me not to use my magic.”
“And I stand by that,” he says. “As you can see, it didn’t work well for me.”
I begin to laugh, shaking my head, and then I kiss her. She pulls me closer, meeting me without hesitation. Too soon, she breaks away. “Rune.”
“I hope he found Evie before it was too late,” Marcus says, staring up at the ceiling.
Brynn turns to look at him. “What do you mean ‘before it was too late?’”
Slowly, Marcus meets her eyes. He looks like a man defeated, and though his loss is my victory, I feel his pain.
“Oh.” Brynn looks down, overwhelmed.
I stand and then help her to her feet. Once she’s steady, I take her hand. “Let’s see if we can find them.”
35
I’ve had three years to imagine this moment, to picture the look on Eva’s face when I found her. Not once did I expect to discover her unconscious on a hard bench in a cold castle, lying on her side, curled up like a hurting child. Her face is so pale it’s almost translucent, and the skin around her eyes is too dark. But even in this state, she’s exactly how I remember her. Her ebony hair spills around her, as sleek as silk.
I grasp the door frame as my legs nearly give out. Three years.
Surely I didn’t lose her by a few minutes.
“Eva?” I say, my voice ragged.
She’s asleep, that’s all.
The necklace rests at her neck, mocking me. I want to rip it off her, heave it across the room.
I sit on the edge of the bench, terrified to touch her—terrified it’s too late.
Slowly, hating myself for this wretched fear that nearly paralyzes me, I brush my knuckle down her cheek. She’s too cold.
Agony pierces me, stealing my air.
Why must every good thing in my life be stolen? What have I done to deserve such misery?
I never kissed her, never admitted how I felt. We fell in love slowly, first friends and then more. She healed my broken spine; she healed my heart. But we never got our chance.
And I am broken once more.
Taking a shaking breath, I lean down and press my lips to her forehead, saying goodbye.
“I love you,” I whisper, closing my eyes as I clutch her hand. “I never told you. But I do.”
I won’t leave her in this prison. I’ll take her home, back to her people, and we’ll give her a proper burial.
Choking back emotions that threaten to choke me, I slide one hand under her knees and the other behind her back and pull her into my arms.
“It wasn’t supposed to end this way,” I tell her. “I’m so sorry.”
And I can’t do it. With Eva in my arms, I sink to the ground, holding her close, giving in to the darkness and pain.
I clutch her hand and kiss it. I kiss her cheek and finally her lips. Then I hold her to me, unable to let her go. Not yet.
“Rumpelstiltskin,” a soft voice says, making me freeze.
Slowly, I pull back. Eva stares at me, her ice-blue eyes wide.
“This is it then,” she whispers, speaking in a voice my soul has longed to hear for three long years. “I finally died. Or I’m hallucinating.”
“Eva?” I breathe.
She blinks at me. “Are you real? Are you here?” Her voice hitches at the end, and her eyes fill with tears. “How are you here?”
Again, I pull her to me, but this time, she meets me. “I told you I’d come.”
She laughs as she sobs. “It certainly took you long enough.”
I pull back and cup her face, drinking her in. “I love you, Evalyntanlia. Even when we were apart, I loved you.”
“Do you?” she asks, trying to compose herself. “Do you really?”
“I really do. Losing you…it was unbearable.”
“I love you too,” she whispers.
Feeling lighter than I have in a very long time, I smirk. “You woke up, so you must.”
And before she can respond, I kiss her the way I should have three years ago, before she was stolen.
“Marry me, Your Grace?” I ask, my words brushing against her lips.
A radiant smile crosses her face, but then she pulls
it back. “Are you sure you want to marry a swan?”
“The curse is broken,” I whisper. “You are free.”
“Truly?”
I nod.
“Good.” Immediately, my raven-haired girl lifts her hand to the priceless necklace and yanks it over her head. “Take me home, Rumpel.”
“Gladly.”
I help her to her feet, keeping her close, marveling that she’s here, beside me, real and well and whole.
“How did you get here?” she asks as we walk down the cold stone corridor. “And what happened with the promise? And Greta’s daughter?”
Raising my eyebrows, I turn to her. “That is a very long story.”
She lays her head on my shoulder. “We have all the time in the world.”
Yes, we do.
36
As soon as I step through the gateway, I’m greeted by a very disgruntled whoo. Porter sits on a tree branch, glaring at me in the bright light of morning. He ruffles his feathers, looking like an old man scowling.
“I’m sorry, Porter,” I say with a laugh as the others appear beside me. “I didn’t realize you wanted to come with us.”
He stares at me for another minute before swooping forward on his silent wings. He heads in the direction of the house, likely off to sleep—which sounds like an excellent idea.
“Thank you,” Rune says to me before we part ways. “I cannot tell you how grateful I am.”
Eva stands by his side, just as tall and elven-like as he. Not surprisingly, she and Marcus haven’t exchanged a single word.
“Yes, thank you,” Eva adds, smiling at me and then Gavin. “This is the first day in years I’ve walked in the sunshine.”
Just looking at them makes my heart full. Reuniting the pair was well worth all the turmoil.
Marcus clears his throat before they leave. Eva turns to him, her face blank.
“For what it’s worth, I am sorry.”
She stares at him for several seconds, and then she nods.
I’m afraid it’s all the resolution they will have, but it’s honestly more than I expected.
With one last final farewell, Rune and Eva leave, making their way into the forest, off to Ivalta to reunite Eva with her family.
The Sorceress in Training: A Retelling of The Sorcerer’s Apprentice Page 21