by S. D. Grimm
She wiggled her fingers and smiled. “Then take my hand.”
He gripped her slim fingers in his rough, calloused ones.
She closed her eyes. “Now use your powers.”
“Quinn, no.” He pulled his hand back, but her grip was much too strong for him to break free of. He stared at his trapped hand. At her face.
She cracked one eye open. “Trust.” She closed her eye again, and that sweet smile didn’t waver.
He wouldn’t. Too much would die. She didn’t understand.
A strange, warming sensation trickled into his hand, as if he were basking in the sun. Then it cooled. Not too cold, just refreshing cold, as if someone splashed water on him after a long day of sparring. Then his heart jumped. She was feeding his powers.
No.
“Quinn.”
“Trust.”
His powers crackled and her touch infused them with strength. He trembled. Destruction. Death. He couldn’t risk hurting her.
“Don’t break the connection now, Connor. I need to be touching you.”
She was right. And now he was strong enough to pull from her grasp. Now, when his powers beat just below the surface. Pounded to be set free. She’d called enough to make an explosion.
The power flooded through him. Zapped through his being, and he targeted the barren, charred trees across the river, hoping the wreckage that would follow wouldn’t hurt her or Cliffdiver.
And the power gushed out of him, breaking his heart to pieces. A torrent of wind and dust hit the ground on the other side of the river and exploded, left a crater. Trees toppled. Wind—harsh and biting—ripped over the land, touched them. Tussled their hair. And Quinn stood unmoving, eyes closed, through it all.
He wanted to cry as he watched the dust begin to settle, but then he sucked in a breath and stared. As the cloud of brown, stirred-up earth cleared, he could see that lush and vibrant greenery covered every surface.
Trees grew and huge, leafy tops expanded above them. Sheltered the earth. No longer cracked and barren. And the crater had filled with water. Sparkling, clear water that flowed into the stream.
She opened her eyes, and a look of wonder overtook her face. “It’s even more beautiful than I imagined.”
His heart raced. “H-how did—”
“You destroyed the dead parts, Connor. I simply used the residue of your power to make the unfertilized seeds grow.”
He looked around, and for miles all he saw was green. The dead things had been destroyed, and the new life had sprouted. “You did that?”
“We did.” That determined look overtook her features again. He gazed deep into those awestruck, hazel eyes. “You mean to tell me that, if you’re touching me when I use my powers, you can turn the destruction I cause into . . . paradise?”
“Will you trust me now?”
He gripped her hand tighter. His power flickered below the surface, and he pushed it back down. It obeyed. Connor gasped and stared at Quinn. “Your touch gives me control?”
She smiled so that her nose crinkled. “I knew you’d figure it out.”
His shoulders shook with laughter, and he tugged her into him. “I don’t deserve you.”
“You do. And one day, I hope you’ll figure that out as well.” She hopped on her tiptoes and kissed him.
He stared at her for a moment as the shock of that small gesture seeped into him. Warmed his very core. Her eyes widened, her mouth open as if she realized she shouldn’t have done that. But just as she started to back away, he caught her. Lowered his head. She stood frozen, waiting. Her eyes closed, and she tipped her head toward him. And he kissed her back. She pulled his power from him, and he released it this time. No holding back. He trusted her completely. As it surged through him, hot and dangerous and strong, hers pushed into him, cooling and calm and stable. They whirled around each other as she spread her fingers into his hair and trailed them along his shoulders. His neck.
Everything seemed suddenly alive.
And he stared into her eyes.
She beamed. “You opened up to me.”
“Yes.” He was breathless.
“Look.” She turned in a slow circle and he followed her gaze. The land around them had become, if possible, more beautiful. The trees thicker and larger, the green more lush, the water more serene. “Connor?” she said, the wind making her hair dance around her face.
“Yes?”
“Your love makes me stronger.”
His breath snagged in his tightening throat. “And yours”—he looked into her eyes and smoothed her hair from her face—“heals me.”
She buried her head in his chest and held him. “You are powerful.”
“So are you.”
“Now, let’s save the world.”
With her, he suddenly felt as though he could.
Chapter 55
Broken and Mended
Ryan opened his eyes. Something about the world being utterly
dark unsettled him. He groped for any memory that might tell him where he was or how he got here. A steady drip, drip told him he was back in his prison cell at the palace. A cold sweat broke out on his skin, and he jolted to a sitting position. His back didn’t ache from healing whip wounds. His heart stalled. Someone had healed him.
Belladonna.
“Yesss. She healed you again. She wounds. She heals.”
“You’re awake.”
That shaky voice sounded too sweet to be Belladonna’s. It was like Serena’s. Was Belladonna so jealous of Serena that she tried to sound like her now?
His breathing quickened. “Too afraid to show yourself?” he asked the darkness.
“I’m not afraid of you, Ryan.”
“Of course you’re not.”
“Don’t move. We’re surrounded by black leather vines. They’ve made this dome around us, but they’re feeding on the tree.”
Tree? That didn’t make sense. He was in the prison cell. Wasn’t he? He wracked his brain, trying to remember anything that would make sense.
“She lies to you. You know where you are.”
“Ryan? Your heart is fighting her hold on you. The Mistress is trying to find you. Don’t let her.”
He shook his head, trying to clear his vision. This was Belladonna using Serena against him. Her new trick. It had to be.
Slowly his eyes adjusted, and he scanned the small area. She sat on the ground across from him. He stood, and the weight of a weapon tapped his leg. His sword? She’d given him his sword? That was a mistake. She’d pay now. “I am not your pet.” He pulled the weapon from its scabbard and swung it at her.
She screamed and dodged. “Ryan!”
His sword bit into whatever was behind her. It shrieked, and sunlight leaked through the crack.
The light dissolved what he thought was the wall of his prison. And through his squinting, he made out black leather vine. That didn’t make sense.
He glanced left, to where Belladonna had run. But it wasn’t Belladonna standing there, daggers drawn. His throat went dry. “Serena?”
“Look out!” She stepped in front of a thick, black vine that shot toward him. It wrapped around her middle and squeezed. She screamed.
“Serena!” His heart pounded like a hammer on an anvil. He’d almost hurt her. He’d thought she was Belladonna. The voice chuckled in his head, and he locked it away in the dark part of his heart as he cut through the vine holding Serena captive.
She fell to the ground and untangled herself. “Hurry. I think together we can open it enough to get out.”
She cut at the wall with her daggers. His blade sliced through the same vine. It screeched with each hack. Another vine snaked toward Serena, and he pushed her behind him, cutting it in two. Then he grabbed her arm, pulled her into him, and jumped through the opening they’d created. On the other side, they dashed to their feet, but the vine followed. It curled around Ryan’s ankle. Barbs, thick and long, punctured his skin. Deep. Deeper. He cut the vine and rolled out of the way
, watching it shrivel in the sun and retreat.
He sat there, heaving as everything flooded back to him. The last thing he remembered was the storm Jayden had warned them the Mistress was sending. He’d heard the Mistress’s voice on the wind and in his head. He remembered flinging his body on top of Serena so the debris didn’t hit her, and Blaze grabbing both of them in his claws.
Where was Blaze? Where was Jayden? “Where are the others?” he asked.
Serena paused near him, hands on her knees as she gasped for air. “Don’t you remember the storm?”
“I do now,” he said quietly. Then he stood, wincing at the pain in his ankle. Stupid vine. Ryan slumped against a brittle, willowy tree and checked the wound. Purple snaked up the veins beneath his skin, and heavens it burned. That could not be good.
Serena started walking.
“Where are we going?” he tried to catch up to her, pain with every stride.
“Closer to Dash. He found Blaze and healed him. They’re resting. They should find us soon.”
“Healed?” Ryan’s chest constricted and he stopped, leaning against another tree. “What happened? And how do you know?”
“The bond.”
Right. The bond. Ryan tried to communicate with his dragon, but heard nothing back. Didn’t even feel him. “I can’t hear him.”
“Someone tried to kill Blaze with arrows that puncture dragon hide. He’s asleep. You’ll hear him soon enough.”
“How did we end up in the vines?”
“We were knocked from Blaze.” She stopped and faced him. “When I woke up, we were surrounded. I’m sorry I fell asleep. I used a lot of energy healing you.”
A lump formed in his throat. “You healed me without permission?”
Her eyebrows pulled together, and she approached him, arms crossed. “If you’re unconscious, I don’t need your permission. Not according to Healer custom.”
“I don’t appreciate being healed without my permission.”
“It’s against my moral code to just let you die.”
Oh. He stared at his clothes. Blood spattered his pants at the thigh. His shirt. He pulled his collar aside and the whole back seemed to be covered in blood. “That bad, huh?” His voice was quiet.
She shrugged, and a faint smile played on her lips. “Getting you to keep up with bone sticking out of your leg and that blow to your skull would have been unbearable, believe me.”
He steadied himself against the tree as he sank to the ground. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”
She sighed and joined him on the ground. “Let me see that wound.” She leaned forward tentatively, as if he were a dragon with fire loaded in his gullet.
Then he remembered thinking she was Belladonna. “I’m sorry.” His voice nearly stuck in his throat. “For nearly . . . I could’ve killed . . .” His throat tightened. “I didn’t realize it was you. I—”
Why was it so hard to squeeze the words out?
“Two apologies? What am I going to expect of you next?” Her smile was radiant. Mostly because it said that she forgave him and felt sorry for him. She reached toward his wounded ankle and stopped when he flinched.
Her hand stayed suspended for that brief moment. “Will you let me heal your leg? The vine’s poison will make you sick.”
He trembled and then closed his eyes in shame.
“Am I so terrifying?” Her voice was soft.
Yes. She was still a Healer with the same powers as Belladonna. The same touch. “No.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Why do you flinch away from me?”
When Belladonna healed him, he lost control of what he felt. Of his dignity. He closed his eyes, knowing nothing he’d say about the haunting dreams or the fear that Belladonna paralyzed him with would be adequate to explain what kind of terror overtook him.
“Okay.” She sat back. “How about more traditional methods? Perhaps I’d be less formidable if I tended to you like a Wise Woman?”
“Healers practice traditional methods?”
“Yes. Many of us are drawn to helping people, and with the scarcity of our powers in the old days, it was often better to be in hiding. Still, many Healers became Wise Women. And the knowledge has been a part of our education for centuries. I’d just need some bandy root. It gets rid of the burn, fights any type of abscess, and begins healing quicker.”
Burn. It did burn. “Where does the stuff grow?”
“Damp places.” She rose, soundlessly and gracefully. “Places like this.”
“You’re not going off alone?” He stood to follow her, sending a burning pain up his leg.
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I’m used to being alone. Besides, you might want to stay off that—”
“I’ll be fine.”
She rolled her eyes. He followed her anyway, looking for a plant that she’d said had broad, oval leaves, with a thick stem and magenta blossom. He’d never find it before dark at this rate. And she’d wandered so far ahead of him by now. He tripped over a tree root, sending a shock of pain through his ankle, and caught himself on a tree. Knife my heart, that stings.
But there it was, at the mossy base of the tree. “Serena! Is this what you’re looking for?”
She bounded over to him. “Yes!” She plucked the plant and told him to sit.
He had no complaints at that order. He watched her as she squeezed the nectar from the blossom onto a cloth from her satchel. “Ready?”
Letting her care for him in a way that didn’t involve spells or magic put him at ease. She didn’t even look into his eyes once as she worked. Of course she didn’t. Here she was, a Healer, and he’d forced her to take care of him this way, so he could what? Protect himself from the terrible powers of Healers? Stupid. He should’ve just let her heal him.
“There.” She sat back and sighed.
“Thank you. Serena, I—”
“Don’t complain.”
“I’m not com—”
“If you do, I’ll heal you with my powers.” She yawned and slumped against him, head on his shoulder. “This is unexpected.”
It certainly was. “Serena?”
Her eyes closed.
“Do you think we should sleep here?” It wasn’t even dark. Had she stayed up all night?
“Sleep sounds nice.” Her words slurred.
He nudged her and she didn’t move. “Serena? I don’t know where Dash and Blaze are. Serena?”
“You think you can hide from me? Foolish boy.”
The Mistress’s voice thundered in his head, and a shiver pulsed through him. His skin turned cold and he started sweating. “Serena?” He shook her shoulder. Nothing. Something was very wrong. He had to get as far away from that voice as possible. He scooped Serena in his arms and carried her until the forest changed. Thick, dark trees became thin. Woody, instead of covered with protective bark. Bare. Smooth. Strange.
Still he kept going. The pain in his ankle was a dull ache thanks to her medicine, but he wished he could move faster. At last, the voice didn’t resound in his head. He couldn’t even feel the slight nudge of the Mistress’s power. Then he fell to his knees and set Serena down beside him. He moved her hair off of her beautiful face. A sliver of a cut on her cheek bled, and he wiped the red away. She must have gotten it when he’d gone through the dense underbrush. More blood trickled from the cut, and he dabbed it with his shirt.
Wait. Blood?
He shook Serena’s shoulders and called her name, aware how frantic he sounded. Finally, she yawned and pushed off the ground. Her eyelids fluttered open. “Oh no, did I fall asleep?” She touched her cheek and the dried spot of blood. “Where are we?”
His stomach twisted in knots. “I’m not exactly sure. All I know is we’re farther away from the Mistress now.”
“Oh.” She paused and looked at him. “You carried me?”
“You wouldn’t wake up. And you’re not healing.”
She rubbed the cut beneath her eye. “I didn’t expect it to have such a strong
effect.”
“What do you mean?”
“The bandy weed. It stops my healing powers.”
“What?” He didn’t mean to yell. “How could you let me . . . why would you—”
“I wanted to be sure you’d let me care for that wound. I didn’t think I’d be able to drag you around the woods.”
He clenched his jaw and slumped next to her. She was right, of course. And he was acting like a child. A stupid child.
Something stirred in the forest, and Ryan jumped to his feet, placing his body between the noise and Serena. His fists heated and fire sparked in his palms.
“Ryan, what’s—”
He held up his hand to warn her to be quiet.
A tiny squirrel zipped out of the tree and chattered at Ryan as it climbed up the thick bark to look down on him.
Serena laughed. “He certainly had you scared.”
Ryan looked back at her and her pretty smile. The way her eyes sparkled when she laughed. But he couldn’t join in. His knees were water. He sank to the ground next to her again. “The Mistress knows where I am. Smoke knows where I am.”
“Oh.” Her eyes rounded. “Dash is close. He’ll feel Smoke’s evil approaching. Just keep that part of your heart sealed until he and Blaze get here.”
“I don’t think I can.”
She stared at him a moment, tilting her head. “I wonder . . .” She splayed her palms against the mossy earth and closed her eyes. “Unicorns have a connection to a forest’s heart. We can feel if it’s sick. This one is. That’s probably why your bond with Blaze is straining so much. Half of your heart is—”
“Darker than a blacksmith’s fingers.”
She looked up at him, eyes boring into him with such compassion and determination. “Ryan, I will help you fix your heart once we’ve healed the land and I get my full powers back. I promise you.” She didn’t wait for him to respond. She just motioned deeper into a darker part of the wood. “Dash is this way. Come on.”
Something about that part of the forest felt off. Ryan reached out and grabbed her arm. She swung around to face him, a dagger against his wrist. He let go. “What’s wrong with you?”
She exhaled and sheathed her weapon. “I wasn’t sure if you were . . . in your right mind.”