To Scale the Emerald Mountain (The Willowbane Saga #1)

25. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

ELLYA

A surreal week slips by.

I’m falling into more of a groove with the staff, but it’s still lackluster. Just the thought of using my gifts is tiresome, and I continue to drain my wells of power with easy jumps.

Nana continues to sleep in my room and train with me most days. Although I still don’t speak to her much, my barbs aimed at her are softening—even if only slightly.

After day three, Kraeston doesn’t let me go back to my room after training and instead takes me on tours of the city. We see street performers and explore museums. He shows me the urban farms surrounding the city, and we browse all sorts of shops. Every day he takes me somewhere new.

Back in my room after one of our outings, I’m pacing with too much anxious energy. I lie in my bed and try to sleep. My body flips and turns, trying to get comfortable. But I’m too restless, like there are fire ants crawling in my veins with incessant demand to move.

Pacing around my room for several minutes, my eyes keep darting to the cozy pillow nook, perfect for reading. I chastise myself for not exploring any of the libraries in the city or the palace yet. My eyes roam to the door leading to the study connected to my chambers; images of shelves stacked with books flash in my mind.

My feet tread to the door.

I walk out on the mezzanine level, and it’s quiet in the study while I scan the walls of bookshelves nearest to me. All ancient with peeling letters; all in languages I’m not familiar with. Strolling to another row, the quiet tick-tock of a clock carries in the pleasant silence. The muscles in my shoulders ease, and I think at this moment I’ve never felt so peaceful.

My hope was for something fiction, perhaps another world to get lost in; but the next row of books only houses subjects ranging from mathematics to history. I remind myself that this isn’t a real library. Striding towards the stairway, I peer past the balcony ahead of me.

A set of dark, thick lashed eyes are watching me intently, sitting behind the desk below.

Shit .

Alec appears to have been in the middle of writing something. His pen still touches the paper, ink seeping out continuously to blot out his words.

We make eye contact, and time seems to stand still for a silent beat.

I should leave , I think to myself.

If I did, would he follow?

Instead, I find myself asking him accusingly, “Have you been just sitting there staring at me?”

“Yes,” Alec answers honestly before looking down at his papers—noticing the ruined mess. He curses, crumples the paper, and tosses it in a waste basket with ease. He leans back in the chair, pulling his arms back and stretches wide, accentuating his broad shoulders. “Can I help you find something?” Alec stands and starts walking to the staircase, stopping at the foot.

“Are you in here a lot?”

“Far more often than I care to admit.” His full lips tilt up at the corners.

“And why does the door to my chambers lead into your study?“ My tone is haughty.

“Because they used to be my chambers.” Alec holds his arm wide, inviting me to join him.

“I’m not bothering you? I can go back…” But my feet contradict my words as they move on their own, gravitating towards the stairs; towards him.

Shining light blazes in Alec’s eyes, and a soft glow purrs in my chest.

“You could never bother me, Elly.” Alec subtly wets his lips and visibly tries—and fails—to suppress a grin.

Walking to the desk, Alec pulls a chair next to his. I ignore the obvious gesture and take a seat on the opposite side of the desk. His smile falls slightly at the rejection as he pulls a small silver case towards himself. Inside is a line of black cigarettes. Alec sets one between his lips and strikes a match to light it, illuminating his full, expressive mouth.

I avert my eyes.

He exhales a plume of spicy smelling smoke before asking me, “Were you looking for anything in particular?” He casually slides back into his chair and takes a long drag from his cigarette.

“Just something to read. Didn’t see anything interesting.”

“No, I am afraid you will not find exciting reading material here. I can show you the formal library, if you would like.” Hope glimmers in his warm brown eyes. I can only shake my head. The idea of that kind of intentional time together constricts my chest; my throat. He takes another deep drag and nods, blowing smoke out of his nose and mouth simultaneously. “Perhaps another day.”

The ticking of the clock eats the charged silence between us.

“You smoke?” The question escapes me without a thought.

Alec chuckles softly and gives me another small smile that makes my heart patter. “Apparently I do now. Does it bother you?” He moves his hand towards the ashtray, preparing to put it out.

“I don’t mind.”

His gaze is so intense—those brown depths piercing through to my very soul.

“How did you get the scars on your shoulder?” The question is a desperate attempt to break myself out of Alec’s pull. Not the best subject, because now I’m thinking about him fighting—dripping sweat and muscles working.

My heart rate increases and a warm blush crawls across my cheeks.

Alec notices my shift. He scans the visible portions of my body and gives me a slow, cocky smile.

I scowl at him and place my arms on either side of the chair, about to push myself up to leave. “Never mind.”

He laughs and indicates his head back towards my chair. “It is a very interesting story. I will certainly tell you, but I am afraid the timing must be right.”

Gods, he smiles a lot.

My head shakes as I scoff, but I lower myself back into the seat. “Of course. When the time is right.”

Alec’s smile softens. “I am not trying to keep a secret, my clove. That story is dear to my heart—as are you—and I will do it justice. ”

“Yes, so dear to your heart that you left me in Brhadir for all those years?” My brow cocks at him in question, using our final conversation in Crane Hills against him. Fire eats through my chest.

Why am I doing this?

His face falls, and he rubs a large hand over it. “Fuck. I deserved that.”

Alec swallows and inhales deeply from his cigarette. It’s only now that I notice the spicy hint: clove.

I don’t allow myself to process what that means.

His full lips wrap around the tip as he draws another inhale and stamps it out in a glass tray; the ember explodes with small sparks that instantly die.

“I almost brought you back here the moment I found you. But I ignored my selfishness. You were so young, and I had lifetimes to live and experience before you. It was not fair to rip you from your family and who you could be. And it was also important to maintain appropriateness as our relationship progressed throughout the stages of your life.”

The ball of Alec’s throat bobs, and I fight the burning sting behind my eyes.

“I have wondered every single day for the last several months if I could have spared what happened—spared you your pain—had I only been selfish. I failed to protect you.” Alec places a hand slowly over mine, gently squeezing my fingers with unspoken words.

Warm, his hand is so warm.

We sit, eyes locked, for a moment before I avert mine and pull my hand free from under his, his fingers falling limp to the desk in defeat as I slide away from him .

It’s then I notice a familiar book and my gaze locks on it. Alec’s eyes trail mine.

“Commonly Misinterpreted Quinndohsi Phrases,” he recites, opening the book. “I have been trying to make sense of this since you returned.” Alec begins leafing through the pages. He gives me a searching look, biting the inside of his lip before continuing. “I know what you were told, but most of this is nothing more than fabricated ramblings of a madman.” He says softly, putting it back down.

I knit my brow at his words.

“I will preface by saying what I am sure you already know. You were manipulated and lied to. Very little of this,” Alec holds up the book, “is real.” He sighs and runs his hand through his hair, knocking loose a silky black lock that sways just above his brow.

A strong urge to push it back takes me over. I plant myself firmly in my seat.

“I suspect Locane told you this particular lie hoping it would be enough to keep you at his side when his control broke. The idea of working together to save the Kingdoms. While yes, there was some truth to the state of the lands, it has been this way since the Original War. The poisoning and destruction of our lands happened then—all at once. Our continent is not dying a slow death.”

Giving a soft shake of my head, my eyes narrow towards the book. “When I was…” I swallow, searching for an adequate word to describe the time during my capture, “gone, I remembered things about Brhadir fairly easily. And some things about Quinndohs. But nothing about Salhaas, though I remember those things now. Why? ”

Alec brings a long pointer finger to rest at his lips, considering his response. “A combination of reasons. One: Locane purposely relinquished some of your memories, to make his task easier. Such as your Nana, given that she was so involved with your Sight. And two: Brhadir is your home. It is so deeply ingrained in you it would be difficult to hide those memories from you, especially while you were still in the Kingdom. And you are deeply familiar with Quinndohs as well. You have never been to Salhaas.”

Before I can think, before I can stop myself, I say, “But aren’t you deeply ingrained in me as well?”

Heat flashes across my cheeks as pain lances through Alec’s dark brown eyes.

He clears his throat subtly before answering. “Locane used much more drastic measures in the end to ensure I would not come back to you.”

My stomach sinks to the floor, and I prepare myself to leave, knowing I shouldn’t have stayed to talk to Alec in the first place. The glowing fire around my heart burns, trying to wash away the loathsome panic creeping up my throat.

Alec swallows hard and hastily turns to a page in the book, sensing my pulling away. He lands on the page containing the picture of the Plains I was so fixated on. My attention is instantly drawn back to the book, the scorching guilt brewing in my chest dying back down.

“Now this,” he says curiously, letting the intimate moment slip by. “I do not know how Locane got this.”

I take in the picture again, experiencing the same pull I did before.

“You had that vision,” Alec says, taking me by surprise. My head rises quickly. “When you were a child, you had that vision and asked me to share it with Kraeston—who then Captured the image for you.”

A slow, amused smile spreads over my face. “Kraeston is a Capturer? But I saw him wielding flames.”

Alec nods softly. “Yes. Kraeston was gifted with magic from both his parents. You and Kraeston are incredibly rare, in that you possess a physical and a mental gift.”

“That’s such an artsy gift for such a large, rough man,” I laugh.

Alec returns it, beaming at me. “Yes, it is. He is both quite powerful and talented.”

Looking down at the picture again, my eyes roam over the fine, intricate details. “I can see that,” I say as I trace my fingers over the clean lines. It’s no wonder I was so drawn to the picture—my subconscious recognized it.

“That gift came from his mother. Unfortunately, Kraeston’s parents were lost during the Culling,” Alec says.

“The Culling?” I ask confused.

“Yes. A long time ago, powerful heads of families started dying in droves. For all manner of reasons, but mostly strange accidents. Your grandfather was lost in the Culling, making your father a very young king. Both of Kraeston’s parents were claimed, along with countless others. These strange accidents went on for several years. My parents and your Nana were but three of very few in their generation who were spared.”

My mouth gapes in horror. “How do I not know about this?”

Alec smiles fondly, which seems like an odd reaction to the sad story. Realization hits me that somewhere in my mind, I do know this history, only it’s still hidden from me. “When we saw each other, you would beg me to continue telling you stories late into the night. I only knew so many stories, but I knew a lot about history.”

There must be a whole trove of information buried inside me, all taught to me by Alec. “What caused the Culling?” I ask, trying not to dwell on the depth of all that’s been lost.

“No one knows. With our long lifespans, fertility is fickle in the gifted community. We will see great lulls in birth rates that span for years with no children of magical background born, followed by massive booms. The Culling began during the beginning days of a fertility boom, essentially wiping out two generations of gifted people. The generation of people that were dying were the ones having children.”

Alec stands and walks to a bar cart near the window. He grabs a crystal decanter of amber liquid that glitters in the sunlight and pours a healthy amount. He lifts an empty glass, brow lifted in question, and I nod.

“For years people were frightened, unsure if there was some blight perhaps taking over, or if some group from overseas was plotting something.” Alec hands me the glass of liquor—our fingertips barely brushing—before gracefully sliding back into his chair. “There are all manner of blights and groups with questionable ambitions on the Mother Continent. The Territories have seen many civil wars. There was great fear that another war was to come, but eventually all the strange deaths stopped.”

Curiosity is thoroughly holding me in its hands. “Have you spent time on the Mother Continent?”

“Yes. I spent many years there as a mercenary before I became king.”

“With your brother?” I blurt without thinking. “I’m sorry,” I hastily add. “He told me he spent time there. ”

The anger I’m expecting from Alec doesn’t come. “Do not apologize, Ellya. Ask me anything you like. But no, our time on the Mother Continent did not overlap. When our father died, I came home and Locane left.”

While Alec lights another cigarette, I can’t help but notice his similarities to Locane. The inflection of their pronounced, refined accent. The matching color of their hair, their eyes, their skin. The identical straight nose and high cheekbones. Their full lips.

I turn away from Alec and take a large gulp of whiskey. It burns horribly, and a cough drenched in fire climbs up my throat.

“Fucking Mother, that’s rancid.” I wrinkle my nose.

Alec’s warm, rumbling laugh rolls pleasantly through my body. I smile past the scorched flesh burning my mouth.

“That is the finest spirits coin can buy, Elly. That particular barrel was aged for three hundred years.” Alec throws back his glass, not even flinching, and smiles.

Without warning, my vision warps and Alec’s soft mouth morphs into a hard line that I’m so used to seeing on that striking face. His eyes turn lifeless and cold.

My breath catches and I stand, knocking over my glass. Whiskey races across the desk and soaks into a stack of papers.

“I should go. I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” I choke out in a panicked whisper.

Alec stands too, suddenly alarmed.

I grab onto the edge of the desk as a wave of dizziness strikes, causing my vision to tilt.

“Elly, what happened? What changed?” Alec asks as he quickly rounds the desk.

My vision has steadied by the time he reaches me and gently places a hand on my cheek, turning me to look at him. “You are bleeding again,” he whispers as he cradles my face and tenderly rubs the drip from my nose with his thumb.

My vision distorts again.

Suddenly I’m standing outside with the hateful version of this lovely face who also has blood on his thumb—only it’s not my blood—and he reaches it to my parted lips.

Then the setting changes to the sitting room of a country house and my lips are parted for the same person, but for an entirely different reason.

I shove him away from me, my palm pushing against his shoulder.

Alec drops his hands from me instantly. I quickly turn away from him, my hurried feet carrying me across the study. The sounds of Alec’s heavy steps chase me up the stairs. Before he can follow through the door to my chambers, I slam it shut behind me and slide down the door, sitting with my knees pressed into my chest.

“Please, open the door, Ellya. I will not touch you, I promise.”

My breath tears ragged holes through my lungs as I drop my head between my knees. Alec gives up much quicker than I expected, and my breathing starts to calm while I ground myself in reality.

Alec appears directly in front of me. I gasp, holding a hand over my racing heart.

He didn’t give up at all; he just took an alternate route.

Peeling myself off the floor, I walk towards him and aggressively push his shoulders. “I guess you didn’t take the hint that I don’t want to be around you anymore.” My cruel words hold venom.

Alec’s face is twisted with both shock and outrage, but he stands solid. “I took it as you were being open and responsive with me for the first time since you have returned. Then in a breath—with no obvious trigger—you threw up a wall and ran in fucking terror. I want to know why. What happened?” A sliver of his frustration shows.

“Just go.”

“No. You will tell me what happened so I can be mindful to not do it again,” Alec tells me firmly. “Please, let me help you.” His tone has instantly changed, laced with a hint of desperation.

“I don’t want your help. I didn’t really want to sit down with you at all, but I felt fucking cornered when I found you staring at me. You could have said something to let me know you were there instead of just watching me!”

“Do not lie to me.” Alec stalks towards me, putting a large hand over his heart, his other against his stomach. “I felt you seeking me out. The same way I do you.“ He’s right in front of me, but true to his word, he doesn’t touch me. “Why do you think I am always in that study? Hmm? I yearn to be near you, but you will not allow me in here.” He gestures widely around the room.

“My instincts are constantly screaming at me, knowing that you are in pain. But I am not able to comfort you, because you will not let me in here,” Alec brings his fingers up near my temple, but doesn’t make contact. “Please, let me be here for you. Speak to me—tell me your thoughts. Let me hold your hurt with you.”

I step away from him, moving quickly to put distance between us.

“If not me, then any other person that you want to speak to. Please, do not fold into yourself, Ellya,” he says with pleading eyes.

“You’re a liar, the same as your brother. I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to be around you.” My words have to fight past my lips, and my eyes begin to well .

“You are so angry with me that you hold me in the same regard as him?” Alec doesn’t attempt to mask his hurt. “Please—give me the chance to earn your forgiveness.”

“What I can’t forgive you for was never being offered a choice with you in the first place. Now, leave.” I muster as much malice in the words as I can, and they strike home, effectively breaking my own heart along with his in the process.

Alec’s bronzed face drains of color, leaving him looking sick and as if a thousand words are weighing his tongue.

“Leave.” The word hisses again between my clenched teeth.

Alec abruptly turns and exits my chambers, not bothering to close the door on the way out.