Lilith walked through Torin. The doors shut, wood and iron aligning with his lungs. Slowly, he stepped forward, fully entering Sidra’s new bedchamber.
He didn’t realize how desperate he was for her to see him, hear him. Not until he was halfway to her, his heart wildly beating, and found he couldn’t take another step.
She stood in the light, breathing slow and deep, a palm pressed to her chest.
Torin’s joy flooded him, blurred his vision. He was overcome by it; he wanted to drown in this delight with her. He and Sidra had made a child together. He forgot he was a spirit. He forgot he was made of shadows and air, and he closed the distance between them.
“Sidra,” he whispered ardently. He reached out to caress her hair, but he couldn’t feel it. His fingers passed through her as if she were a dream.
She didn’t hear him. She covered her face with her hands, smothering the break of a sob.
Torin’s joy dissolved the moment her hands fell away, the moment her reddened eyes met his.
Her face was blank. No flicker of recognition stirred within her. She didn’t see him as she gazed absently at the wall.
“Sid,” he said. “Can you see me? Hear me?”
She sighed and walked into him. A shudder rippled in his spirit. Frost crackled along his bones. He had never felt so cold in all his life.
Torin turned and watched as Sidra went to the window, struggled with it for a moment, then managed to open it. She rested in the waft of brisk, fresh air.
He thought on what he had heard her say to Lilith. That he was on a mainland trip. Already, Sidra had covered his absence with deceit, to maintain order and normalcy. He thought it wise of her, even as he hated that she had to lie for him. And she had moved into the castle, giving the appearance that all was well.
“I’m here with you, Sidra,” Torin whispered, aching.
She raised her head. The breeze lifted the hair from her shoulders.
He waited, hopeful. Had she heard him? Some small thread of him believed that she had. That her soul sensed that his was near.
Sidra reached for the curtains and drew them closed with a snap. The golden light that had limned her faded, but Torin’s vision remained the same. He could see her clearly as she walked to the bed and sat on the edge. Her hands hesitated as she reached for her boots, her brow creased with worry. But then the moment passed, eclipsed by her exhaustion, and she shucked off her shoes, crawled into the bed, still wearing her dress and stockings, and pulled the quilts up to her shoulders.
Sidra rested, quiet, unmoving.
Torin waited until he heard her breaths deepen and knew she was sleeping.
He felt unmoored, lost, until he remembered the riddle in the orchard. He was trapped in the spirit realm until he solved the blight.
He let his anger rise, ignite.
He walked through doors, walls, mortals. Across the rise and fall of the land, to where the orchard lay.
Chapter 18
Jack would face a potentially life-altering choice when he emerged from the Aithwood. Adaira resided in the Breccans’ city, deep in the heart of western territory, and he could reach her in one of two ways: by the northern road or the southern road.
“Both will lead you around the mountains and into Kirstron,” Elspeth said as she packed provisions for him for the long walk. “And both present you with different dangers. If you take the northern road, you’ll have to pass by Thane Pierce’s holding and lands, which you should avoid at all costs. If you take the southern road, you’ll have to pass through Spindle’s Vale, a highly traveled route known for trickery. Either way, you’ll need to be very careful.”
“Thane Pierce?” Jack echoed.
“A noble family who like trouble,” his nan muttered in disdain. “Even if you take the southern road to avoid passing their holding, you should still be prepared to run into Rab Pierce. He and his men are known for their roaming ways and have been patrolling the roads lately as a self-proclaimed ‘watch of the west.’ There’s been more crime this summer than usual, and a thane’s son like Rab likes to feel important by enacting ‘justice.’”
Jack didn’t like the sound of Rab. In the end, he decided to take the southern road through the valley to avoid the Pierce holding altogether. It would take him two days to reach the city by foot if he set a hard pace. Those two days were bound to feel like two years, knowing Adaira was on the horizon, and Jack was tempted to veer into the hills, to see if the land would fold and shorten the distance for him.
“Don’t stray too far from the road,” Elspeth said, reading his mind. “As I said, the vale is known for mischief. The mist gathers thick, and it’s easy to get turned around without the sun or moon for guidance. But if you must depart from the road, follow the deer trails. The animals here are wise when it comes to knowing places to go and places to avoid.”
Jack nodded and accepted the provisions with gratitude. “And what of the city and the castle? Anything I should know about them?”
“Aye,” Elspeth said. “Entering the city will be no trouble. It’s sprawled around the castle, so you’ll have to pass through its streets whether you arrive from the north or the south. The castle itself is nearly impenetrable. It’s surrounded by a moat and built on a hill. There is only one way to access the fortress, and that’s by bridge. It’s heavily guarded, so you’ll have to think of a reason to get across. Perhaps pass yourself off as a merchant or trader.”
“I’ll do that,” Jack said. “Thank you, Elspeth.”
His nan, hands on her hips, tilted her head and stared at him. “Are you not afraid, Jack? I’ve just told you the path you plan to take is going to be riddled with impossibilities and danger, and you look as thrilled as a lad who’s been let out of class early.”
He almost laughed. “I know I should be afraid. But I’m where I’m supposed to be. And I’d soon become miserable if I forfeited my fate in order to remain ‘safe.’”
Elspeth only snorted, but he could sense she was moved by his words. She laid her hand on his cheek and said, “Then go, Jack.”
He bid his nan farewell, leaving her in the garden. She stood at her gate and watched him follow the river’s path upstream. He wondered if he would have the chance to visit her again, or if this had been the one and only time he would ever spend with her.
Soon the Aithwood began to thin around him. Gray light shone through the canopy like bars of tempered steel as Jack wove his way closer to the forest’s edge. He slowed when he saw a glimmer of gold in the shadows. When he smelled a sweet familiar rot.