I whipped around and found myself nose to nose with the man. “Who?” I mouthed.
He opened his mouth, but before he could say another word, he vanished in a cloud of smoke.
Chapter Forty-Four
Sarai
The hedge was bigger up close. Its leaves were sharp and pointed, and the closely woven branches were covered in angry, red thorns. There was no way I would be able to climb through it without being cut to ribbons.
I followed the hedge until I came to a wooden gate that was as tall as two fully grown men and as wide as a carriage. It was a solid thing with no knob or hinges. The gate is sentient. It was carved from the oldest tree in the First Forest. Kamryn said it wasn’t malicious, but it wasn’t friendly either. It picked and chose who it allowed through.
“Old one, may I enter?” I stood still, my face clear of emotion.
“Well, hello, hello.” The solid wood began to change, as if hands were molding clay, and a face formed on the once smooth surface. “Aren’t you a sad creature?” It looked down its nose and sniffed. “What do you want, daughter of salt?”
My hands shook. I was frightened by the strange gate and its intense stare. “I come bearing a gift for the lady of the marsh,” I mouthed.
“So you would like me to grant you passage, hmm?” Its lip curled into a sarcastic grin.
“Yes.” I stared it in the eyes and raised my chin in the air. Grandmother always said that once someone knew you were afraid, they wouldn’t take you seriously.
“You’re not worth the time or effort,” it said smugly. “I would never allow you to place those filthy hands on me. Hmph!” It puffed with indignation. “Shoo, go on with you.”
Anger surged within me, fleeting but strong. I clenched my jaw. “Please, I have business with the witch.”
It scowled. “What does that have to do with me?”
I fought against the urge to push through the gate, but from the way he was staring at me, I could tell it would be a costly mistake. I tried a different approach. If kindness wouldn’t let me through, then I would drop the act. He knew why I was here. “We both know the only way in is through you. Let’s not play these games.”
“Ugh, you’re rude,” it spat. “I was minding my business, doing what gates do on lovely days like these, when you came up and asked me to stop what I was doing. How dare you stop a gate from gating because you need to use the gate?”
I closed my eyes and counted to ten. The obnoxious piece of wood was being difficult in a way I had no patience for. It was the reason I couldn’t stand Kamryn when I first met him. There was a certain air of arrogance they both possessed. I would have never known that his petty looks and sarcastic remarks were ways of protecting himself if I hadn’t spent time with him.
An idea went off in my head, and I knew then what I had to do.
“How long have you been here, protecting the witch?” I stared into its wooden eyes.
“Why do you care?”
“You are a mighty gate. You must have come from a grand tree. From what I have heard, the older the tree, the richer the wood.”
For several of my too-fast heartbeats, the gate just stared at me with a contemplative look on its face. “What do you know of fine things?” it said finally in a condescending tone. “You look like you crawled from the marsh itself.”
I internally sighed in relief. He seemed interested in what I had to say. “I am a princess of the sea, even if I don’t look like it at the moment. I am no stranger to extravagance.”
“Well…that necklace you wear is nice,” it huffed.
“Thank you.” I lifted my hand and wrapped my fingers around Kamryn’s gift. So the necklace was what caught its eye. Kamryn, you brilliant man. He’d thought of everything. “It is my most precious possession.”
“What is a princess doing here?” the gate questioned when I met his gaze. “The poor, sickly, and desperate are usually the ones who stomp through here making demands. You have traveled a long way. Your request must be great.”
“I have. And it is,” I agreed. The fact that he knew how difficult this journey had been did nothing to ease my irritation. He was wasting time with small talk.
“I am also a stranger in strange lands. I was one of the first. My seed planted by the hands of the Forest Goddess herself. I have seen the sun rise and set countless times.”
I know. I tried to look surprised by the information. “Then you must be as wise as you are opulent.”
“You can say that,” it said smugly. “I question your intelligence since you willingly came here and all.”
I was done. This conversation was going nowhere. “I have to speak to the witch.”
“I know. I know. I read your lips the first time.” It rolled its eyes. “What will you give me in return?” It eyed my neck.
“My necklace?” I gently pulled it over my head. “I’m sure a magnificent gate such as yourself wouldn’t be interested in such a simple thing.”
I couldn’t look desperate. I had learned the rules of haggling from the queen of the market herself. Cyntheria had shown me how people tended to want things more when you downplayed their value. If I acted like I didn’t want to part with the necklace, the gate would only want it more.
It scowled. “You don’t know what I find worthy or not.”
I curled my fingers around the stone and hid it from view. “It was given to me by someone who cares for me. It holds sentimental value if nothing else.”
A thin vine separated from the hedge and made its way to my feet. It wrapped around my ankle and impaled its thorns into my skin. “Young princess of the sea, is what you seek truly important?”
“Yes,” I answered without a second thought and wanted to laugh. Kamryn had been right. When you knew how you truly felt, you weren’t afraid to admit it. I would do anything to get my voice back. Anything.
“Many come here searching for what you already possess. Why not appreciate what you have?”
“Like you, I am the only one who can decide what I find worth sacrificing. I lost my voice.” I straightened my spine. “And I need to get it back.”
“Say less.” I knew from its tone that it understood. “My offer still stands. I will grant you access if you give me the necklace.”
It could have it. If Kamryn truly meant for me to keep it, he wouldn’t have given it to me before a trip into the marsh. I wrapped the chain around the vine and waited for it to withdraw its thorns.
“Mm. The energy in this amethyst is absolutely divine. You truly don’t understand what you leave behind, but one day you will,” the gate purred. It swung open and exposed a gray-stoned path. “It was nice speaking with you, Sarai of the sea. I wish you well in your endeavors.”
∞∞∞
I stood in silence and stared up at the looming mass of sticks and straw. The whole thing seemed to sway in the wind, and even though the sun still shined, the home seemed dark and hungry. Like the witch that waited inside.
Kamryn’s voice came back to me. The witch was once a star. When time began, she was cast from the heavens by the gods. She bathed in the blood of young men and consumed their hearts for their strength. She has seen and heard it all. She doesn’t care about anyone or anything besides herself.
“I have made it this far.” I was filled with a sudden surge of courage. “There is no turning back now.”
I stepped up to the door and knocked three times. There was no sound from inside. No sound of furniture moving or the shuffling of feet. Was she even home? Did she ever leave?
I raised my hand to knock again when the door swung open and an elderly woman with wrinkled mahogany skin, wispy gray hair, and piercing yellow eyes stepped into view.
“Yes?” The woman slowly eyed me up and down.
She wore dirty red robes that hung off her slight frame. Her feet were bare and long talon-like claws extended from the beds of her nails.
“I am searching for the madam of the marsh,” I mouthed.
&nbs
p; The woman’s pupils enlarged until they swallowed all the color from her eyes. She licked her cracked lips and clasped her hands together. “Come in.”
I took one last look behind me before following her into the hut. Thousands of jars of all shapes, sizes, and colors sat on wooden shelves. A fire raged in a hearth on the farthest wall, and two tables were weighed down with an array of objects that ranged from colorful candles to rusted iron spikes.
My eyes lingered on the rusty chains and hooks that hung from the ceiling. They were the same chains that the bodies were hanging from in the forest. My mouth went dry at the thought that I could join them.
Isabis sashayed to the center of the room, her movements like water, fluid and graceful despite her apparent age. I watched with curiosity as she reached over her head, pulled brown petals off a stem, and threw them into a stone bowl.
“What kind of work are you needing performed?” she asked without looking back.
“I need your help,” I mouthed.
“I know that, stupid girl.” She spat into a glass chalice as she plucked a kinky strand of hair from her scalp and added it to the bowl. “So you lost your voice. And now you want it back,” she said in a singsong voice. “My daughter is down in the ocean causing quite a stir because of you.”
Her daughter? The room felt as if it were tilting, and the air itself seemed to thicken, making it difficult to breathe. The bit of courage I had managed to muster drained from my body, and nothing but undiluted fear remained.
Coming here had been a mistake. I was going to die.
“Yes, my daughter. Unfortunately.” She continued to add ingredients to the bowl. “I can assist you.” She swept across the room, bowl in hand, and tossed the contents into the fire. “But I do nothing for free.”
I struggled with the straps of my bag. “I brought a gift.”
The witch stiffened and sniffed the air. “What is that?” she hissed. “What have you dragged into my home?”
One second, she was by the fire. The next, she was in front of me. I pulled the mirror from the bag and held it close to my chest. I didn’t want her to have it. Her crooked hands would only defile the wood.
“Sclena’s mirror?” Her tone softened. “Dear girl, why didn’t you just say so? Sit down, sit down.” She snapped her fingers, and a red velvet-lined chair with wooden legs appeared. She smiled and exposed red swollen gums. “Get comfortable.”
“Thank you—”
“Isabis,” she said in a high-pitched voice as if I didn’t already know her name.
“Thank you, Isabis,” I mouthed and balanced the mirror on my legs. I rubbed my eyes with my fists and looked back at her. It seemed like each time I blinked her appearance changed from young woman to old crone and back again.
“Excuse my behavior. I have to be cautious of who steps into my home. There are many out there who wish me ill.” Her voice was hollow. The never-ending darkness of her eyes seemed to swallow all light from the room.
“My daughter is like her father.” She floated back to the stone table and dug her nails into the edges. “Arrogant. Disloyal. Shortsighted. But, unlike her dear daddy, she is mortal. Do you know what that means sweet child?”
I swallowed hard and shook my head. Why was she telling me all this? What did her daughter have to do with my voice? I grabbed the mirror’s handle tight enough that my fingers ached. She didn’t care about my offer. She barely paid it any mind.
“It means you are in luck. While her magic may be great, she is limited by old laws long forgotten. A curse always has to have a cure.” She cracked her swollen knuckles and picked up an obsidian knife.
“So you can fix me?” Hope blossomed in my chest. I sat up and leaned forward. “You will return my voice?”
“No.” She smiled and walked back with the bowl and knife in each hand. “You are very pretty, and so young." She stopped in front of me and cocked her head. “Merfolk are known for their long lifespans, but the thought of sharing blood with her...” She closed her eyes and shuddered. “The thought turns my stomach. But you, dear child, you are special.” She snapped her fingers twice. As quick as lightning, ropes shot from the ground and secured me to the chair. “You are the perfect vessel.”
“No.” I struggled against my bindings. “I brought something to trade.”
I had done everything I was supposed to do. I made it through the trove. I crossed the marsh. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go! I couldn’t die here. I wouldn’t.
“Etan!” Isabis shouted over her shoulder.
The sound of hurried footsteps sounded from the stairs. Etan stopped halfway down and stared at me with hardened eyes.
“No.” My stomach fell through the bottom of the chair. How was he here? Where was Rylo? Where was Kamryn? Angry hot tears gathered in my eyes. “Traitor! How could you?”
“Don’t stand there looking stupid. Bleed her,” Isabis snarled.
“I can’t hold the fog much longer. Kamryn and the servant are getting close.” Etan took the mirror and tossed it to the side as if it was nothing but trash.
“How could you?” I repeated as I stared into his eyes. If I could spit fire, I would have burned him to a crisp. How could he turn his back on us? On his own brother? I strained against the restraints. “Don’t do this, Etan.”
He ignored me and placed the tip of the blade against my collarbone. I turned my head to the side, closed my eyes, and gritted my teeth. There was a flash of pain and then warmth as blood trickled down my neck. Etan held a stone bowl against the fresh wound.
“Bring it here. The longer it sits out, the less potent it becomes.” Isabis pulled a dried rose from the line and snapped the stem with her bare hands. Black blood dripped from her fingertips and soaked into the petals.
Etan carefully set the bowl on the table and rushed to the other end. I noticed the way he flinched every time the witch moved, as if he feared he would be struck.
Isabis lifted the bowl to her nose and sniffed. She closed her eyes and smiled. “Your blood is so pure.”
She removed the broach holding her dress together and let it drop to the floor. “You know what to do,” she snapped. “You better not hesitate.”
She placed the bowl against her lips, swallowed the contents, closed her eyes, and began to chant in a strange language that sounded like a series of clicks and sighs. When she bent over the table, Etan brought the blade down and across her back. Black blood spurted across the stone table, and leathery black wings, slick and wet with gore, unfurled from the gash in her back.
Oh, goddess. My heart raced as if I had been running for hours. I stared at the grisly scene before me and couldn’t look away. My mind was struggling to register what it was that I had just witnessed. They’re insane.
“Are they back? Did it work?” Isabis asked through pained breaths.
“Yes.” Etan stared with bright eyes. “And they are glorious.”
“Cut them off,” she said in a hollow voice.
“But—" He looked at the knife and then at her back. “Why?”
“Now!” The veins in her neck bulged, and spittle flew from her mouth.
He nodded and grabbed one of the wings from the base. I closed my eyes and turned my head, but I couldn’t block out Isabis’ painful screams. What kind of monster would disfigure their body so? It was like me cutting off my fin or Kamryn cutting off his arms. Why would you put yourself through so much pain?
“Burn them,” she said weakly.
I opened my eyes and stared at the witch who sat in a pool of her own ebony blood. She had a blank expression on her face, but her eyes were glazed, and tears as dark as ink streamed down her wrinkled cheeks. A putrid smell filled the room, and the hiss and pop of burning flesh could be heard.
She swayed on her feet. “I’m going to bathe. Lock her in the cage,” she rasped, her voice hardly more than a whisper. She slowly climbed the stairs, leaving bloody tracks in her wake, and disappeared from view.
My mind was struggli
ng to comprehend what I had witnessed while seeking a way to escape. My eyes landed on the door. If I could get out of the chair, it was only a couple of feet to the door. Isabis looked weak. She would have trouble catching up to me, but there was Etan…
“You won’t make it past the gate before one of my xanbis drag you back.” Etan watched me from across the room.
He was the problem. I knew from watching him train that he was light on his feet, and he had magic. I didn’t know what he was willing to do to keep me here. I had to tread carefully. I had to buy some time. Where is Kamryn?
“What are you doing here? With her?” I mouthed. “How could you betray us?”
“It’s always about you, isn’t it?” he spat with unveiled animosity. “You’re so consumed with the thought of yourself that you’re oblivious to everything around you.” He used the same blade he used on Isabis’ wings to cut the ropes anchoring me to the chair. “You’re just like Kamryn.”
“I didn’t do anything to you.” I tried to rub some feeling into my hands. My eyes darted to the door.
“Stop making yourself the victim!” Etan screamed as he grabbed my arm with his dry, callused hands “You have lived your life locked away in your comfortable castle. Hidden from those who punished us for your father’s asinine decisions.”
He yanked me up by my braids. I kicked out, but he easily deflected my foot. I tried to grab his arm, his legs, the leg of the table—but it was useless. He didn’t flinch when my fist connected with his stomach.
“Don’t make this harder on yourself, Sarai.” He dragged me kicking and swinging to the farthest corner of the room and threw me in a rusting iron cage that was suspended from the ceiling.
“With your blood, Isabis will find a way into Sirensia. Once I conquer the city, I will be granted godlike power.” He locked the cage and smiled. “I will make the world a paradise where we all live long and unbothered like the merfolk. That should make you happy.”
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