I turned around, still clinging to his hand. “Are you all right?”
“Not as right as I was before that branch hit me in the face. I don’t see how you missed it.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll try to feel for them.” I carried on. Two more steps found me face to face with a broad trunk. Irritated and wondering if my gift was faltering, I pivoted away, taking two steps to the side. This time I made progress but felt another tree almost directly in front of me. So much for the path I was blazing.
The noise we’d heard earlier came again. It seemed to come from the earth beneath us, a groaning sort of sound. Almost as if… The tree roots are being unearthed. I brushed the ridiculous thought away. Impossible. Cristian paused. Beneath me the ground rumbled.
“This way. Quickly.” My knees nearly buckled.
“What is it?” He stumbled along behind me. The sounds grew louder, all around us a terrible groaning followed by popping noises and flying dirt.
“It’s the trees. They’re alive— and they’re surrounding us.”
A tentacle-like root reached out, scanning the forest floor, searching. I suppressed the urge to scream and jumped over it as it passed. Though it was some time in the middle of the night, it was impossible to miss the enormous shapes looming over us, closing in tighter every second. I stood still, holding my breath, trying to think of a way out of this as the root swept back toward me, this time brushing my slipper as it passed. I froze, feet poised for the split second they would need to leave the ground to avoid being detected again, but I hadn’t even time to blink before the root was back and had my foot firm in its grasp. What felt like a crusty, frozen rope began inching its way up, twining itself around my legs, binding them together.
I bent over and grasped the root, trying to stop its progress. Beside me, Cristian was fighting his own battle.
“Gotcha,” he said, and a terrible hissing filled the air, followed by a putrid smell. “Adrielle, where are you?” His hand touched my shoulder. “Has one got you? I’ll cut it with my knife.”
“My legs,” I cried, for the thing had passed my knees and was still working its way up. “I can’t move.” Cristian grabbed the root near my ankle, pulled it away and punctured it with his blade. The same terrible hissing filled my ears, and my nose wrinkled as the foul odor assaulted it. The coils encasing my shins went slack and fell to the ground. I quickly stepped out of them and kicked them away.
“Here.” Cristian pressed the handle of his dirk into my hand. “Use this. I’ll go ahead with my sword. We’ll slice our way through.”
“They’re dying.” Mesmerized, I stared at the root, still hissing, and the tree it belonged to. The massive trunk was shrinking, a mournful sound coming from the branches as they disappeared back into the trunk.
“We’ll die if we don’t hurry and get out of here,” Cristian said. “There are too many to hold them off for long.”
“But— trees— the forest.”
“Adrielle,” Cristian spoke in a tone that clearly said he thought I’d gone mad. He pulled me along, away from the dying tree. “This is Nadamaris’s forest, right? It only reasons that if she’s evil, it’s evil. We don’t want these trees to live.”
He was right, of course, but something about killing trees didn’t sit well with me. Still, I followed him, one hand on the knife, one covering my nose. Every other step I had to reach down and plunge the blade through another root. Ahead of me, it sounded as if Cristian was doing much more than that.
Several moments passed, and we were both breathing hard and had made very little progress.
“Get off!” he shouted at a particularly aggressive root. I stabbed the root that was toying with the hem of my dress and hurried forward. Cristian was twisting and turning, slashing at invaders on both sides. I fell to the ground, grabbing and cutting everywhere I could until the last root shrank away. We had but a moment’s reprieve before the attack started again.
“This isn’t working,” I said.
“Then think of something better,” Cristian yelled. “You’re the one with the gift.”
“The gift to know what plants and herbs to use for healing and nourishment.” I kicked at a root, and it lashed back. “I don’t know anything about a forest that’s been bewitched. These trees aren’t under the influence of Mother Nature anymore.”
“No?” Cristian sounded mad and mean— and exhausted. I had to do something. A vine found my waist and wrapped itself around me, squeezing painfully. I cut it without a second thought. I’d already been deprived of enough air today.
Deprived… The trees die when we slash their roots because they’re deprived of the means to get nourishment. If there was a faster way to do that, and to do more than one at once… I stopped walking as I realized the obvious. “These trees are under Nadamaris’s control because they’ve been deprived of what they need. They never get any sun.”
“And—” Cristian’s sword struck again and more hissing filled the air. “How does that help us? You’re not planning to try to reason with them, are you?” He didn’t wait for my response. “‘Listen, trees. Let us go, and we’ll see to it the sun returns— all right?’”
In answer a root began coiling itself around my neck. I poked it with the knife and cut my shoulder in the process.
“It seems—” I struggled against the pressure at my throat. “That they’re beyond reasoning.” So what will work? I thought frantically for all I knew about plants and found my mind circling back to the basics. They grow toward sunlight, need water and good soil to thrive. Some close off when night falls or the temperature drops… Like other living things, some recoil when placed in adverse conditions. And the most adverse condition for these trees would have to be… The gloomy weather they deal with all the time? Only multiplied? It was all I could come up with and a slight possibility at best.
“Kiss me, Cristian.” I freed myself from the choking root and staggered forward, searching for him.
“We’re not finished yet,” he yelled. “Don’t you dare give up.” It was an order given with the authority of a king. And in spite of our grave circumstances, it made me smile.
“I haven’t given up,” I cried. “I have an idea. Kiss me. It might just save us.”
A second later his hand was on my shoulder, turning me to him. One arm pulled me close, while his other brandished the sword, attempting to keep the enemy at bay.
“I hope you’re right.” His lips crushed mine in a frantic, fervent way. Mindful of the root making its way up my back, I threw my arms around him and returned his kiss. The drizzle increased to a steady rain. I felt the root pause in its progress. Cristian must have felt it, too, for he pulled me even closer and kissed me as if our lives depended upon it. The steady rain became a downpour.
A few minutes more and tiny pieces of hail began to fall. Gooseflesh sprang up along my arms beneath the sleeves of my soaked dress. The roots began to retreat.
The tiny hail turned to coin-size ice. We dared not take shelter beneath the trees but deepened our kiss. Along with the sounds of the hailstorm, I thought I could hear burrowing, and I was certain I felt dirt fly against my leg a time or two.
The hail was becoming painful now, but still we clung to each other. An icy wind rushed past, and I took courage. Surely the trees had gone or we would have been more sheltered. But then, as suddenly as it had come, the bitter cold eased, and the hail began to die out. I shivered and worried. What was happening? If our being together was supposed to end the drought— was supposed to steal the moisture from Nadamaris— then where had it gone so quickly? Has something happened to lift the curse? To reverse the seal of our destiny together?
Cristian finally pulled away from me, but I buried my head in his shoulder, more scared than I had been moments before.
“Adrielle, open your eyes.” His voice was so full of wonder that I found the courage to do as he bade. Snowflakes swirled all around us, carried in the wind we had felt. Already little mounds of white were
piling up on the ground. The trees that had surrounded us were gone, or at least back in their original locations, spread at normal distances throughout the forest. They appeared harmless enough now, standing stately and serene, some of their branches already bowing beneath the weight of snow.
“You’re amazing.” Cristian picked me up and twirled me around.
“I didn’t do this.” I looked down at him. He was smiling broadly, his eyes twinkling like Merry Anne’s. “We did this.”
“But you thought of it.” He set me on the ground and placed a quick kiss on my forehead. “You knew what the trees would do.”
“It was a guess,” I clarified. “A hope. A wish.” Except that I hadn’t wished for it, hadn’t used that one last pearl still hidden beneath my dress. It was a good thing, too. I felt an ill sense of foreboding that we would need it soon. “You realize Nadamaris will find us quickly now.”
Cristian nodded, and some of the gladness left his face. He sheathed his sword and took my hand. “Let her find us,” he said with conviction. “She is challenging our destiny. She’s challenging us, and together we can’t be beat.”
Nadamaris did not find us, and though this buoyed Cristian’s spirits and sense of invincibility, it only worried me. Surely the storm had alerted her to our presence. And if, somehow, it had not, the fire I’d built— to keep from freezing while caught in the blizzard we’d caused by our kiss— should have led her straight to us. Yet again, it had not. Or she had chosen not to come, nor to send her minions after us. All in all, it was very puzzling, and I took little comfort when we crossed the border into Rincoln the next afternoon.
Tomorrow was my birthday— a different day than I’d celebrated it my whole life. If we kept walking at this pace we should be to Cristian’s castle by then and could be married. I should have been filled with joy. Instead I worried.
“I’ll be forced to kiss you again if you don’t cheer up,” Cristian said. At the moment, it seemed I was the only cause of his worry.
“Please don’t,” I said, mustering a smile. “I think I’ve finally thawed out.”
“Not willing to risk a little snow for a kiss from your betrothed? You’re not having second thoughts, are you?” Though his tone was teasing, his question had a hint of seriousness to it.
“About you— us? Never.” I smiled and took Cristian’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “I’m still worried about Nadamaris. It’s not like her to give up easily.” I thought of the way she’d murdered her father and sister. I imagined her sister had thought herself victorious after Nadamaris drank the potion and turned hideously half bald. In reality, Nadamaris had been plotting her sister’s and father’s deaths, working to make sure she was successful.
“Maybe old Hale got the best of her,” Cristian suggested.
“No. I don’t think so.” I recalled the condition we’d left Hale in and wondered what more he’d had to endure from his raging mother. “And what of Hale? If we wed tomorrow…”
“I don’t know yet,” Cristian said. With sorrow I saw that I’d succeeded in dampening his mood.
“What I do know is that we are almost to my home where a hot meal, a comfortable bed, and a protective army, await us.”
At his words my stomach growled with hunger, and I found my spirits lifted at the prospect of both food and sleep. I supposed we’d be safe enough at Castle Rincoln tonight. Tomorrow I would think about Nadamaris and Hale and getting to know my parents and a wedding gown and…
“Adrielle.”
“Mmm.” I opened my eyes and was startled to find myself in Cristian’s arms. A steady drizzle was falling. “What happened?”
“You fell asleep on your feet— literally. It was quite amazing. And a good thing I was there to catch you.”
“Well, why did you wake me up, you big oaf?” I punched him playfully.
“You’re in better spirits, I see." He raised his head, looking past me. “I wanted you to see the first glimpse of my home— our home— well, I guess not, but where I grew up— Castle Rincoln.”
I noted the anxiety in his face and found the way he stumbled over his words endearing. That he should care what I thought of the place he called home was quite amazing, especially considering the humble farm I’d grown up on. Though it occurred to me that Cristian wouldn’t ever think of that as my home. From now on he would associate me with Castle Canelia and all that royalty entailed. I wasn’t yet certain how I felt about that.
I did feel elated that it meant I was to be with Cristian.
I followed his gaze across lush, rolling hills— not yet subject to Canelia’s cursed drought— to a stately castle in the distance. Colorful banners waved from its turrets, and there was no threatening wall built to keep others out.
“It’s lovely,” I said.
Cristian snorted. “Castles aren’t meant to be lovely.”
“But it is,” I explained. “Even from this distance, I can tell there is none of the ugliness there that surrounds Castle Canelia. No keeping people out or locking others in, no obsessing about protecting a… princess. With a huge pang of regret I realized I was that princess. Because of me, Maggie’s betrothed had been murdered, Mason’s father had run off, no one had married, few had borne children. A terrible weight settled in my chest.
“It’s not your fault.” Cristian set me on the ground but held my arm while I gained my footing. “Don’t go blaming yourself for the past eighteen years. You were suffering, too.”
I nodded, unable to speak for the lump that had appeared in my throat and the tears smarting in my eyes.
“Blame Nadamaris,” Cristian said. “She’s the one who ruined everything, who brought about such misery. You and I— we’re going to fix it.”
I looked into his eyes and wanted to believe he was right. Perhaps he was. Beneath my dress, the pearl was cold.
Dusk arrived as we reached the open gates of Castle Rincoln. The last light of day stretched forth, guiding us along a path surrounded by gardens. Cristian walked faster now, and I could see he was eager to reach home.
“Hello, Arthur. I’m back.” Cristian paused beside an older gentleman who was busy pruning rose bushes.
“Well so you are, young master.” With great effort, Arthur stood.
“And this is my betrothed, Princess Adrielle of Canelia. Tomorrow we are to be married.”
“Congratulations.” A grin spread across Arthur’s face. “Pleased to meet you, Your Highness.”
“And you.” I curtsied. Your Highness! I suppose I shall have to get used to that. I wondered if there would ever be a time I felt comfortable being addressed as such. Right now it would have seemed more natural if he’d asked me to join him digging in the dirt. “Your gardens are lovely.”
“Thank you.” A blush colored Arthur’s face. “That is quite the compliment. I hear Canelia’s gardens are positively magical.”
“Oh, they are.” I laughed, and the sound carried on a small breeze stirring along the path. I realized my heart felt light. We had made it safely to Rincoln. Filled with sudden joy, I squeezed Cristian’s hand.
We bid farewell to Arthur and continued on our way. We went a dozen steps more when, instead of pulling me toward the immense front doors, Cristian detoured toward an opening in the hedge and led me into a quaint courtyard.
“We’ll go through here. The chapel is on the other side, and the sooner we speak with the priest, the sooner we can arrange the details for our marriage tomorrow.”
I brought a hand to my hair, feeling the tangles, imagining the wretched mess I must look after the last few days’ ordeal. It was one thing to meet a gardener, but I’d hoped for a bath, change of clothing, and hairbrush before I met Rincoln’s priest. What would he think of me?
We entered the courtyard by a narrow arbor, barely big enough for the two of us to walk through at the same time. Once inside, I paused, looking around in amazement as the not-so-distant memory of our first kiss trailed through my mind. A tall, well-groomed hedge surround
ed us. Freshly swept cobblestones lined the walks, and ornate bushes, carved in various shapes, were spaced throughout the garden. A bench sat between two of them. An enormous stone lay past that. And nearest me… a tree, very much like the one I’d stood beneath when Cristian had first kissed me.
“It’s the same,” I said in wonder, walking farther inside the courtyard. “An exact replica of the abandoned courtyard at Castle Canelia.”
“Or,” Cristian suggested, “was the Canelian courtyard patterned after this one?”
“I don’t know. But why do you suppose they’re the same?” I wandered over to the tree and leaned against it, remembering the sweetness of that first kiss.
“That’s easy enough to answer.” He followed me. “Centuries ago, Rincoln and Canelia were one land. It was so large that two brothers shared the ruling of it, each with his own castle. According to the history books, they were the best of friends, and it was a time of great peace.”
“What happened?” I tilted my head, looking up at Cristian. He’d moved closer and stood facing me, one hand propped against the tree as he leaned forward.
“They each had a son, and those sons both fell in love with the same girl— a princess from Baldwinidad. It started a war.”
“Of course.” I sighed. “That kingdom is always causing problems.”
“Not anymore.” Cristian bent his head to mine as he had in Canelia’s abandoned garden three nights earlier. Has it been only three nights? It felt as if a lifetime had passed since then. His lips found mine, and time ceased to matter.
I stepped into his arms, wrapping mine around him, returning his kiss with equal ardor. I felt no reservations. I was free to love him. No other stood between us. No dress of armor stole my breath. Baldwinidad’s violent forest was behind us.
Lightning streaked, and thunder boomed overhead. A downpour of rain began. Cristian released me and glared angrily at the sky.
First Light (Forever After Series) Page 28