by S. D. Grimm
The sun drew closer to the horizon, so it would be best to let Cliffdiver rest and heal rather than travel a few hours only to have to stop. If they were stuck here for a night, they’d have to find shelter of some sort. Already the sun baked his skin. He stood to have a look around. There. Across from a dry riverbed stood masses of dark, dead trees. And a grouping of toppled stones like the foundation of something big. Connor’s heart thundered and he clenched his fists. He knew exactly where he was. And the Mistress likely did, too. Of course she’d send him here. She wanted him to see firsthand the damage a Wielder could create. She wanted him to fear using his powers. On shaky legs, he stood and walked toward the old river.
“Connor?” Quinn’s small voice couldn’t tear his eyes from the old ruins of destruction. “I know where we are.”
“It’s called the Forest of Death.” His voice cracked.
“How do you know?”
“I’ve read about it. The Wielder of the fourth age fought a battle here.” To save his Whisperer from the clutches of the Mistress. Many had died. The destruction resembled what he’d done while defeating the bulls. Only on a much larger scale.
“Oh. Yes. There was much death here.”
He turned to see her limping toward him. “Quinn.” He rushed to her and she stumbled. He caught her.
Her hands gripped his arms and he steadied her. Wrapped his left arm around her. She pivoted to face him, regaining her balance. “Sorry.”
“No need.” He led her to the dead tree on the edge of the old, dried river and helped her sit. She winced as she stretched out her leg. Too bad there was nothing else he could do for her.
“How far is the Forest of Legends from here?” she asked.
“As a gryphon flies? Three days. Will you be ready to travel by morning?”
“Yes.”
He didn’t expect her to answer so readily, but he was glad of it. “Will the bush be able to get any information on the whereabouts of the others?”
Her hazel eyes rounded. “The bush’s roots aren’t far-reaching. Talking to other plant life around here will be impossible.”
“Then we’ll have to go looking for them first thing.” He braced himself back on his arm.
Quinn peered toward the dried river. “Would you put some water in it?”
He stared at her. “You can’t be serious.”
“The heart here still beats, after all this time.”
He pulled out his waterskin and headed to the riverbed. Quinn limped after him. “Let me help you.” He looped his severed arm around her back.
She leaned into him, and together they walked to the edge. Dry plants—gray like dust—grew up from the bottom. On the sides. He sprinkled water over the edge, and Quinn placed her palms on the ground at the edge. She closed her eyes. Slowly, water trickled into the bottom of the river. Then faster until it lapped against the sides of the river. Gushed forth.
Connor stared as the air in his lungs stalled. “That’s incredible.”
“You think so?” Her words took his attention from the rushing water and the green grass starting to grow along the river’s edge. And her innocent smile melted his heart.
“Absolutely. You’re amazing.”
She sucked in a breath, then looked away, red coloring her cheeks. “How about some shade?”
He laughed. “There’s no shade here.”
She beamed, bright and pure, as she pressed her palms to the earth. A sapling burst from the ground and grew until broad, green leaves spread out on full branches above them. He couldn’t stop staring at the way they danced in the sunlight. At the beauty she was capable of wielding. Cliffdiver came and lay beside him under the shade. “She reminds me of my last master’s Whisperer. So innocent. She delights in creation.”
Completely opposite from his powers. He looked past the new life she’d restored to the death in its wake. Death a Wielder had created. Absently, he stared at the rushing water.
“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Quinn asked.
“Pretty?” Connor spun around, staring at all the green grass and trees and plants Quinn had grown. “It’s amazing. Beautiful.” He sat down beside her again, in awe. “You’re amazing.”
Her hazel eyes widened and sparkled.
She was beautiful.
Her eyebrows pulled together, and she glanced at her lap. “I wanted to talk to you about what happened earlier.”
Oh. Did she mean the storm? Or the bull? Or his failure to combat the Mistress?
“When the storm came, you shielded me.” Her eyes glistened and a tear spilled out. “You were angry with yourself for not protecting the others.”
He bowed his head. “Most powerful Wielder in five thousand years, and I can’t even combat a stupid storm. It’s my responsibility to protect them, and I—” he stopped as the heat of his power rushed into him as if a broken dam had set it free. A growl escaped his throat and Quinn shrank away from him. He breathed, trying to contain the raging waters inside. “You . . . what you can do is beautiful. What I can do—well, you saw it. I don’t want you to be afraid of me.” Her following silence ripped through him. “What are you thinking?”
Her eyes met his. “I don’t know what I’m allowed to say to you.”
“Anything.”
“Anything?” She stared at him.
“Yes.”
“I feel your power clawing inside of you.”
Connor sat back. “It’s become more difficult to control.”
“Then let it out.”
“Out?” He scoffed. “Quinn look around you. They call this the Forest of Death. A Wielder created this lifeless, desolate land with one blast of his power.”
“There’s a price to great power.”
“That’s why the Creator hand picks his Wielders, gives them to the world through the animals. So they don’t have parents to sway them or . . . loved ones who get in the way of their decision-making. The Wielder who did this fell in love. That’s why he used his powers here. To protect a loved one. And look at it.”
“It could be healed.” She motioned to the water.
“What was left. But what was here, that all died.”
She swallowed. “Is that why, after you rescued me from the bulls, you wanted to die?”
He looked into her eyes. “You saw what I did. What I’m capable of.”
“Rescuing people?”
He could do nothing more than blink. The words wouldn’t come. Emotion flooded through him—the feeling that she perhaps saw the new, green growth in his power, but not the evil. Finally words tumbled out. “Killing, you mean?”
She hugged herself and rubbed her upper arms. “If I could show you that there’s more to live for than being afraid of your powers, would you be interested in living for a while longer?”
What was she doing? Reading his soul? “When I used my power last, Logan died. I can’t control who lives and who dies. If I protect one, someone else will perish. Quinn, if you insist on touching me when I use my powers, bracer or not, that could be you. I–I can’t—”
She leaned forward, eyes wide. “You’re worried your power will kill me?”
“Yes. For heaven’s sake, yes.”
“And the Deliverers?”
He could do nothing to stop the wave of sorrow that shook his shoulders. “Even if the door of life opens, two of them will die. I can’t stop that.”
She looked around at the quiet stream running through the barren land. Already, green grass grew from the red dirt. “Could you have destroyed this whole place with one blast of power?”
“I could have destroyed more.”
She gasped, but said nothing. Her silence ate at him.
He couldn’t look at her. “You think I’m dangerous.”
“Yes.”
That ripped through his heart harsher than he expected. “I wish you could trust me, Quinn.”
Her lips parted. “I want you to trust me, too.” She moved closer to him. “I want you to know that I won
’t touch you without your permission again. Okay? I’m sorry about the first time.”
“I . . . oh, that was . . . your touch unlocked my power. I didn’t mean to scare you with my reaction to that. I’m sorry.”
She stared at him as though trying to figure out was he was saying. “I can touch you?”
He laughed nervously.
She offered a small smile. “Trees take in their surroundings through touch. The air, the smells, the water. They touch everything.” She ducked her head and smiled shyly. “I thought the phrase how you feel about someone was much more . . . literal.”
It made sense now. She wanted to feel that she could trust him. Could he let her? Would he be able to hold on to his human form? Either way, it was worth a try to help Quinn trust him.
He scooted closer to her. “I don’t want you to be afraid to touch me, Quinn.”
Her eyelids fluttered. “You wouldn’t mind?”
He shook his head.
Slowly she reached out. Her fingers grazed his shoulder, feather light. Trailed over his upper arm. He sucked in a breath. She slid her hand over his skin and paused where the sword had severed him. She touched the numb scar, then her focus shifted and she pressed her palm to his cheek. Traced his ear. His jawline. A shiver skittered over him and she stopped, eyes wide. “I’m sorry.”
He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. “Don’t be.”
Her cheeks flushed, and she dropped her hands to her lap. “When Serena heals, she feels your pain. When Jayden looks at you, she feels your emotions. I feel who you want to be. Who you’re growing into.”
“You feel that?”
She nodded. “You’re afraid of yourself, Connor. You shouldn’t be.”
The thump in his chest seemed loud enough for her to hear.
She held out her hand for him to touch. “What do you feel?”
Her skin was soft, smooth. He slid his palm over her arm, over the scars he wished he could’ve rescued her from. “I feel your powers. They’re pure and wholesome.” He’d felt more than that, though. He’d felt her trepidation, her longing.
“Connor, you’re the Wielder for a reason, and that reason is your compassion. You can’t keep locking it away. We all know the risk. It won’t be your fault.”
“Because I already know the risk, allowing you to be there when I use my powers makes it my fault.”
She looked away from him, not taking her hand from his grasp. “I disagree. So do the Deliverers.”
The Deliverers. “Where did she send them?”
“Don’t worry. We’ll find them. I’ll make sure of it.” Of course she would. That was her job. Opening the door of death was his. The sun turned magenta as it dipped closer to the horizon, and Connor watched it, hoping they’d be able to find a tree tomorrow for Quinn to talk to and locate the Deliverers. She squeezed his hand and then let go and curled up next to Cliffdiver.
Worry kept Connor awake much later.
The next morning, he woke to find Quinn sitting at the water’s edge. She stood when he stirred. “Ready?” she asked.
Connor patted Cliffdiver’s uninjured shoulder. “How are you? Are you ready to carry two people and fly?”
Cliffdiver nodded. “It’s time.”
Quinn stroked his beak. “You’re a magnificent animal.”
Cliffdiver’s eyes crinkled in what looked like a smile. “I really like this one.”
“Me too.” Connor lifted her onto Cliffdiver’s back and climbed up behind her. As they took flight, she tipped her head back and spread out her arms to feel the wind.
“Look at the sun!” She pointed as it rose higher above the horizon. “It’s beautiful!” She smiled at him over her shoulder. What he didn’t expect was her fingers rubbing his arm. “Isn’t it?”
His power crackled beneath his skin at her touch, but at her innocent grin, he felt that he could hold on to it. Press it back below the surface. Perhaps she didn’t make his power go wild after all.
Cliffdiver carried them as far and fast as he could toward the Forest of Legends, and at every stop, Quinn talked with the trees to try and find the Deliverers. Everywhere they walked, Quinn touched everything, the land, the dead bushes, the tumbleweeds. She even pet each shy animal that approached him, swearing fealty to the Wielder. And each creature, each plant, even the ground thrived with her touch. Connor marveled at her. And he hoped this battle wouldn’t strip her of that innocence.
That evening, Cliffdiver landed in a place that resembled the first barren wasteland. Old power resided here. Wielder magic had destroyed this place as well. It fared better—but all the trees here were dead. The stream that had once been here was nothing but a hollow snake carved in the dirt. Nothing to relay Quinn’s messages.
Quinn grabbed Connor’s hand. “You’re sad?”
“No, I’m . . .” He looked into her eyes and found himself unable to lie to her. “Yes.”
“Come with me.” She tugged his arm and limped toward the dried up riverbed. Cliffdiver followed. Quinn stopped on the bank. “Look at it.”
“There’s nothing to see, Quinn. It’s dried up.”
She tilted her head, as though she felt sorry for him. “Listen.”
His powers surged into him, and he stepped away from her. It was almost as though she’d called them. His heartbeat sped. “What are you doing?”
She gripped her elbows, hugging herself. “I’ll show you how to use your powers.”
“No.”
“If you let me, I can bring new life to this barren wasteland.” Her eyes practically glittered like the fresh water in a stream.
His heart thundered, and the power inside of him begged to be released. “No, Quinn.” He tried to tamp it down.
“I think you should listen to her.” Cliffdiver’s voice interrupted his concentration. “She calms you. She pours into everything she creates. Everything she touches. Look at you. Her innocence—”
“I can’t control it!” Connor whirled around to face Cliffdiver, fist clenched. His power clawed to be set free. Not again. Not now. He needed to shift. To run. To make something explode.
Quinn touched his shoulder softly, and he spun around, chest heaving. Did she understand nothing?
“Connor, please?” She reached out and grabbed his hand.
And his power became a calm sea inside him. A sea, powerful and massive, ready to strike but calm enough to wait. He stared at her hand. “H-how are you doing that?”
His gaze trailed up to meet hers. She rubbed his arm slowly and moved closer to him. “You can control it. You just need to trust.”
He swallowed, shaking. He pointed to himself with his missing arm, and then was glad that Quinn didn’t seem to notice.
“Do you trust me?” She held out her hands. He didn’t back away as she grabbed his hand and the stump of his right arm.
He trembled.
She cocked her head. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
“No. You’re worried about something.”
“A great many things, Quinn.”
“Tell me.” Her pretty eyes rounded, and he suddenly wanted nothing more than to bare his soul to her. That scared him. Deep into his core.
He swallowed. “If you help me when we face the Mistress, if you’re there to open the door of life, one of us will die. I’ll try to make sure it’s me, but—”
She gasped. “Connor! Why would you say such a thing?”
A pang spread through his chest and pulsed with each heartbeat. “You didn’t know?”
“So easily you accept this?” Her voice was a whisper.
“Easily? No. I don’t want you to die. I’ll make sure it’s me—”
“Why?”
“I’ve made mistake after mistake as a Wielder. I deserve to die.”
“Oh. That’s your burden.” She looked up at him with glistening eyes. “You think because you’ve made mistakes and your power is destructive that you deserve death. You stay true to your mission because i
t’s some kind of atonement for the death you’ve caused. You will cause.”
His heart melted in his chest. He backed away from her, slipping through her fingers, shaking his head. But he couldn’t deny it.
She limped closer. “You fear happiness. Closeness. Companionship.”
“Quinn, it’s best if—”
Nearer still. “How many people are blessed to be able to spend such precious time with those they love before they die?” She was so close now that she joined her hands around the back of his neck. “Could you love me?”
He looked into those compassionate eyes. Eyes he never wanted to lie to. “I already do.”
“You do?” So much hope registered in her gaze. “You’re willing to deny your heart’s desire because you are devoted to your cause?”
“I have to be.”
“No, you don’t. It’s noble, Connor. You don’t deserve to die. I am not as noble as you. I don’t want to let you go because I want my heart’s desire.”
His throat seemed thick. His pulse raced. And he wanted nothing more than to crush her close to him and kiss her. “Quinn, that’s a dangerous thing to say.”
“I will forgo my heart’s desire for you.”
He shook his head, unwilling to accept this gift. “I don’t deserve someone like you.”
“Yes. You do.”
His heart ached that she would believe that about him.
She closed her eyes, and her shoulders rose and dropped steadily as she breathed deep. When her eyes opened, so much compassion filled them that his heart wanted to burst from longing. “You are afraid to use your powers because you haven’t seen what we can do together. I want to show you. Have hope. I’ll be there with you, at the end. I’ll open the door of life, and I’ll make sure your powers don’t claim either of us. Understand?”
He nodded, wishing he could believe it. But she did. Perhaps that was enough for both of them. She held out her right hand, palm up. “Trust me.”
“I do.”