by Lisa Morrow
Stepping through, the portal closed behind me. Instantly, I regretted not bringing my cloak with me. My thin dress offered little protection from the chill of this snowy night.
“Rose?”
I spun towards the sound of Asher’s voice. He was standing partially hidden behind a large rock, but rushed towards me. Seconds later, I was in his warm arms.
“I regretted leaving you behind. I worried I’d never see you again.”
I smiled against his chest. This was my Asher. The boy who made my heart flutter, even as my eyes closed in exhaustion and relief.
“You shouldn’t have worried,” I murmured. “I said I’d come back.”
He pulled away from me, and I opened my eyes. My breath caught in my chest. A dazzling half-smile touched his lips.
Without thinking, I reached up and ran my fingers across the stubble on his face. He looked surprised, but then his hand caught mine, pressing my palm more firmly against his cheek.
He frowned. “You look tired.”
I felt tired, but his presence made me feel more alive than I had all night. “You need to work on your flattery.”
He laughed.
We enjoyed a long moment of comfortable silence, drinking in the sight and feel of each other. If I had any doubts about our entwined destiny, they had fled at the sight of him, at the feel of him. He was strong and solid beneath my fingertips, but there was such a pleasant softness to his eyes.
“Oh!” he exclaimed. “I have something to show you.” He started to pull my hand, but then, stopped, frowning once more. “You’re cold.”
He untied his white cloak from his shoulders and placed it gently around my own. Underneath his cloak, he wore a thick, dark blue shirt and black pants. They fit him well, and I blushed, noting the way they clung to his muscular body.
“I love you like that,” he whispered, and I glanced up, meeting his fiery eyes. “Sometimes all I can imagine is the girl who fell from the bridge, who rescued me from The Protectors. But other times, you do something like blush, and I remember that you’re still just a girl, underneath it all.”
Pressing my cold hands against my cheeks, I tried to hide them from his scrutinizing gaze. “Didn’t you have something to show me?”
“Of course!” He knelt on the ground, shifting the sword on his belt, his face glowing with excitement. “I’ve been working on my powers since I got back, testing what I can do.”
He reached out and pressed his hand against the trunk of the tree. His expression grew serious, his eyes locked on his hand. My gaze moved from his face to his hand, waiting, wondering what new magic he’d learned.
When nothing happened, I was surprised to feel a rush of relief, and then, ashamed. Asher wasn’t afraid of my powers, I shouldn’t be afraid of his. I couldn’t keep looking at the person I loved, waiting for the evil wizard within to surface.
“It’s—” I began.
I wasn’t sure what I planned to say, but a rush of cold slammed into me, bringing with it the memory of the Undead wizard, Marcalus, nearly taking my life. Shivers racked my body, but my physical response was nothing in comparison to the horror I felt as the tree slowly turned brown and died beneath Asher’s fingertips.
Sweat gathered on his brow as he slid his hand down the trunk of the tree to where the snow covered its roots. The snow fled from his touch, or at least it seemed that way, as it melted, faster and faster. A pool of liquid was all that remained, spreading until even the snow beneath my feet turned to water. And then, green grass sprouted growing rapidly until it reached my knees.
Asher drew his hand away, triumph in his voice. “Can you believe this?”
I knelt down, running my hands through the strands of grass. I wanted to share in his enthusiasm, but I couldn’t force a smile past the feeling of dread in my stomach. “You killed the tree.”
“Yeah, but look at the grass!”
Sinking down into the grass, I gathered my knees to my chest and pressed my face against my legs. The problem with wizards was that they killed. They didn’t hesitate to take the life force from someone or something if it could make them stronger. Asher had only used his magic for a short time, and already, he was killing. Had I made a mistake in freeing him? Were all wizards truly incapable of resisting the evils of magic?
But even as these fear-induced thoughts raced through me, logic reared its ugly head. The Protectors killed young girls to fuel their magic… I had killed to fuel my magic. Was I any better?
“Talk to me,” Asher whispered, resting his hand on my back. “What have I done?”
I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t let him see the doubt and panic that filled me. He would know instantly that I feared him. And how could I love someone I feared? I wished I was with Sirena. She would reassure me, she would tell me that killing one tree didn’t mean he’d become a monster.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled into my legs.
“Don’t be sorry, just tell me. I need to know. If something I’ve done upsets you this much, I need to understand it.”
I pulled a little away from my knees, but didn’t look at him. I didn’t want to see the impact of my words. “Magic shouldn’t be used for killing.”
“I’m not like those wizards. This was just a tree.”
Tension sizzled through the air, and I took a deep breath. I loved Asher, felt a connection between us that went beyond all logic, but didn’t know him. What I was about to say would reveal a lot about who he was, and I feared if he said the wrong thing, I’d find myself connected to someone who I could never trust.
“Once you start taking lives, it’s a slippery slope,” I said, finally meeting his steely gaze. “One day it’s a tree, the next it’s a person.” He opened his mouth to interrupt me, but I forced the rest of my words past my lips in a rush. “If we have any chance at a future, any chance at trusting each other, or escaping from the corruption that seems to come with magic, neither of us can use our magic to kill. I want your word on it.”
Silently, I gave my word as well. Never again would I take a life to fuel my magic. Never again.
He lay back, disappearing in the long green grass. I longed to see his expression, to read the emotions and thoughts that were surely dancing across his strong face, but I forced myself to remain still. This was a good thing. A promise like the one I was asking for shouldn’t be given lightly.
A promise given lightly was often broken.
A few minutes passed before the sound of Asher shifting broke the silence of Wintercarve’s forest.
“I have my answer,” he said. He sat up, poking his head free from the grass. His face revealed nothing. “Come lay with me.”
I wanted to beg him just to tell me. But as I looked at his face, at the places I’d touched, I realized that his answer could change everything. If he refused to make this promise to me, would I remain with him? Could I live my life knowing that the person I loved might one day be dangerous to all of mankind?
He tugged on my arm, his cold fingers reminding me that I still wore his cloak. I untied it from my shoulders and scooted towards him. Then, spread his warm cloak over us, and snuggled into the crook of his arm.
“I want you to trust me,” he murmured, turning his head so that his mouth brushed the top of my head as we lay. “I didn’t really think about killing the tree, I was just excited about using my magic. But you’re right. Not that this could lead to me killing people, because it wouldn’t, but magic shouldn’t be used to harm.”
“You’re not afraid of hurting people with your magic?”
“No,” he said, pausing. “Are you?”
“Yes.” The word came out as a whisper, but his body tensed. I’d already hurt people, I longed to say. Instead, I admitted half the truth. “I’m afraid all the time of the magic inside of me. Of what I’m capable of.”
An image of the dead roses came to my mind, and a sob caught in my throat.
His muscles relaxed, and he used his cheek to nuzzle the top of my head.
“Would it help if I told you why I’m not afraid?” I nodded, turning slightly and pressing my palm against his chest, feeling his heart as it raced. “I’m not afraid because just now, as I lay in the grass, I felt the earth’s heartbeat. It’s a sound I’ve heard before, but it always frightened me, because I didn’t understand it. But now, I do. I’m a wizard. I’m connected to the earth. When it hurts, I hurt. Killing this tree, killing the other trees I practiced with, these are hurts I’ve caused to the world and myself.”
“But the other wizards… they could hear the earth too, and they still killed.”
“They must have forgotten to stop and listen to the earth. I never will again.” He closed his hand on my own, tangling our fingers together against his chest. “And even if I don’t always remember to listen, you’ll be here to remind me.”
“But I can’t hear the earth, how will I avoid the temptations of power and magic?”
He laughed, a warm, husky sound that made my heart beat faster. “I know you’ll avoid the temptation, because you care enough to be this worried about it.”
I pulled my fingers free of his and balled my hand into a fist against his chest. “But what if that’s not enough?”
His hand closed around my fist. “Then, I’ll be here to remind you.”
My entire body, every tensed muscle relaxed, and tears sprung to my eyes. Until that moment, I’d had no idea how much effort it’d taken to bottle my fears inside and carry them around with me. But now, my fears were revealed to the man I loved, and he’d done more than just listen to them, he’d volunteered to share them.
I couldn’t have hoped for more.
“If you couldn’t have guessed,” he said, tightening his arm around my shoulders. “I promise not to use my magic to kill.” And then after a moment, he added, “unless I have to.”
I smiled. “So do I.”
Now that Meisha had taught me how to sense when I used the roses, I wouldn’t do it again. No matter what. Even if it meant accessing the other Protectors magic, and opening myself up so they could take mine more easily.
“Do you believe me?”
I fought the urge to laugh. “Of course!”
He sat up just a little, and I turned to meet his serious gaze. “Then, does this mean you’ll stop being afraid of me?”
My smile vanished. He’d known all along, and I hated that my doubts had hurt him.
“You wouldn’t hurt me. I trust you.”
Relief washed over his face, and he lay back down, his muscles relaxed once more.
“I trust you completely too,” he murmured.
He. Trusted. Me. Completely. Each word was like a dagger slicing through me. I’d been treating him like someone unworthy of my trust, but he wasn’t the one keeping secrets, telling lies.
I tore free of him, his cloak spilling off of me, and rose to my feet, taking two steps before his worried voice stopped me.
“What is it?”
The cold air seeped beneath my skin, and I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself, then turned back to him. I needed to tell him about his sister, but would it make me a coward to not tell him about myself first?
I bit my lip. Of course it would. But if I told him about myself, he’d never help me in the battle against the Undead. And besides, I had to believe his sister was wrong, that if he knew his sister was safe and happy, he could let go of his anger against the women who took her. Then, I could tell him the truth about myself, and he might eagerly help me stop the war.
“I have something to tell you something, but I’m not sure how you’ll take it.”
His arms dropped to his side, his hand still clutching his cloak. “You said you trusted me completely. Trust me with this.”
I took a shaky breath. Where should I start?
“I found your sister.”
His cloak fell to the grass. “My sister? You found Sura?”
He crossed the space between us and lifted me in his arms, spinning me around. His eyes sparkled, but his expression was still cautious, as if fearing my next words. It was a strange reaction. One I hadn’t quite expected. It seemed his mind and heart were battling, to celebrate his sister’s life, or to steel himself for bad news.
He stopped spinning us and lowered me so that my feet touched the ground, but his warm arms still encircled me. “Was she well? Did they keep her in a prison cell like they did to me?”
“She was well.” I hesitated. “I would even say happy.”
Asher’s eyebrows rose, and I reached up, pressing my palms against his cheeks. I knew the words needed to be said, but I longed to soften them for him, to take some of the pain my words would cause.
“She’s a Protector now.”
He recoiled from me as if I’d struck him. “I don’t believe you.”
I winched. “It’s true. I spoke with her. We shared a meal. She told me she missed you.”
“No.” He shook his head, backing away from me. “She’d die before joining them.”
I raised my hands, trying to soothe him without touching him. “It’s okay. She’s not hurt. The Protectors aren’t really as bad as they seem.”
He laughed, a mocking, angry sound. “Now, I know you lie. Anyone who says the witches aren’t really so bad is lying or stupid.”
He spat the last word. I was losing him quickly. His anger and hatred of The Protectors was overshadowing his happiness that his sister was alive.
“I’m telling you the truth. I swear it.”
His face crumpled. “They killed my father in front of me. And if after what they did, she would still become a Protector…”
“But maybe—”
“And you can’t have failed to notice my face,” sadness laced his words as he pointed at the network of scars on his jaw and throat. “Nazar did that to me. She stopped me from ever being able to save my sister. But you say Sura’s chosen to become one. She’d never betray me like that.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered again.
“No.” Pain laced the word. “Don’t ever speak to me of her again.”
I reached for him. “You don’t mean that.”
“She’s a Protector. Don’t you get it? She’s become what I hate most in the world, and I’ll never forgive her for that.” His voice held a tortured anger. “You weren’t there. He didn’t even have a chance to fight back. They ended his life, like the clap of hands around a fly, and left him to bleed in my arms.”
My breath caught in my throat. “Why?”
“I’ve asked myself that question so many times.” His voice was just a whisper. “My mother said it was a warning, but I never understood.”
What could I say?
He straightened his shoulders. “I’ll tell my mother that they killed Sura, to spare her from the shame of knowing her daughter has become pure evil.”
Numbness washed over me. This was his sister. Someone he’d known all his life, and he couldn’t forgive her. He wouldn’t forgive me. I would lose him.
A chilly breeze stirred the air, racing around us, and ruffling his hair. I shivered, but he didn’t react. The urge to run to him and wrap him in my arms came and went in a flash, as I realized I was the last person who should be hugging him.
He turned away from me. “But there’s more you’re not telling me, right? I’m not a complete fool, Rose.” His shoulders fell. “I know you’re working with The Protectors, because you hope to save your friend. Yet, you’re also starting to feel differently about them. Aren’t you?”
I nodded. “I need you to listen to me. Without getting angry. I need you to hear everything.”
His tone was even as he responded, “I’m listening.”
I would tell him as much as I had to, I decided, but not everything. He’d made a mistake in allowing his hatred to overcome even his love for his sister, but I couldn’t allow his hatred to condemn all of Tarak to death, not when he was the only chance we had. Even if he could never forgive me for my deception.
“You know some of
this already,” I began. “But not everything. And you need to know this, because without you Tarak will be invaded tomorrow night.”
“Rose—” he chided, shaking his head.
“I need you to listen,” I interrupted. “The Protectors are responsible for killing the wizards, so Hadia agreed to give the wizards an opportunity for revenge. She gave them the ability to come back to Earth in darkness, and The Protectors have been keeping a shield of magic around Tarak to keep the people safe from them ever since.
“This isn’t some lie told by The Protectors, this is what’s happening. I saw the Undead wizards, and the shield, and I was there when it almost fell. For good. If it does, the wizards will surge over Tarak. The Head Wizard says they only want the lives of The Protectors and the queen, but Sazar and his brothers are with them. They won’t stop at that. They’ll kill everything that moves.”
“Impossible,” he murmured. “We’d have heard something about this.”
I sighed. “We’re both near the center of Tarak, so we haven’t seen the shields or the battles, but I’m sure you heard whispers of strange things, just as I did.”
The doubt in his face was all I needed to see.
“I thought so,” I said, moving closer and placing my hands against his chest. “I was taken to The Oracle, a man who once had the ability to call upon the goddesses. He taught me how to speak to them, and I called on Zeuita.”
His brow rose. “You called on a goddess?”
“Yes, and I asked her to forgive Tarak and keep the wizards dead. She said she couldn’t undo Hadia’s promise for revenge, for killing all the wizards. And then,” I took a deep breath, “I told her about you.”
“Why?”
“Because if all the wizards weren’t dead, then the deal Hadia made with them could be undone. Zeuita agreed.”
“So the wizards will stay dead…” He took my hands in his own, rubbing his thumbs against my palms. “So why does any of this matter?”
“They get one final attack tomorrow night, the shield will fall, and The Protectors will fail.”
His thumbs stopped. “So then we’ll be invaded?”
“Maybe,” I raised myself on my tiptoes. “But I think you might be able to stop the battle.”
