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

52. CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

ELLYA

O n the third morning of our mating glow, I wake to the bright sun streaming through the arched stained windows, splashes of warm jewel toned light painting the large, masculine body draped across me.

I close my eyes, in my waking moments experiencing a mixture of deep heaviness and giddy excitement. Today is the day we will leave The Capital without knowing when we will return. Opening my eyes again, I find Alec awake and watching me, giving off the same tight anticipation.

“Good morning, Ellya,” he tells me in his deep, sultry voice that makes my thighs clench.

“Stop. Unless you want to postpone our departure to stay in this room, naked, all day.”

He chuckles with unbridled amusement. “All I did was tell you good morning.”

“Yes.” I move to get up, but Alec grabs me and throws me on my back. “Hey!” I yell in surprise. He pins my hands above my head. “Alec, we have things to do. Besides, I think you’ve hollowed my insides permanently.”

He laughs loud and runs his nose down my arm towards my armpit, making me squeal and squirm .

“Stop! That tickles! Plus, I smell disgusting,” I say, trying to twist away from him.

Alec inhales deep and grunts appreciatively. “I like you filthy,” he says in my ear before getting up abruptly, his large erection jutting out. He catches me eyeing it hungrily and grabs a sheet to wrap around himself before winking at me with a smug smirk.

We go to the bathing chamber and begin brushing our teeth together. I catch Alec’s eye in the mirror and we both smile before I break out laughing.

“What?” he asks me, his eyes twinkling.

“Nothing,” I say, wiping my mouth. “I just like doing the mundane things with you. They feel as important as the big things.”

Alec smiles, taken aback. “Because they are. I think that is the most sentimental thing you have ever said to me, Elly.”

I roll my eyes exaggeratedly. “Please, you are waxing poetic to me constantly. You’re touched because I said I like brushing my teeth with you?” I ask him in disbelief.

“Yes.” Alec plants a loud, wet kiss on my temple before he begins dressing.

When we returned to the palace, Alec proudly announced he had all his belongings moved into my chamber while we were out celebrating Samhain—confident in how the evening would end.

He also told me he had begun taking a contraceptive brew the day I stabbed him in the heart when I panicked about the current fertility boom we’re in.

“Everything is already packed on the ship for us. It will reach the port of Brhadir in several days. We will leave for Bokhaii as soon as we have finished all our business we have in Crane Hills. Are you certain about our detour?” Alec asks me as he buttons his black shirt, and I nod at him .

He was surprised when I told him what I want to do before we go to Crane Hills. “It is not necessary to stop and rest now, Elly. With our new depths of power, we can jump all the way to the city,” he told me.

“I know. I want to do this,” I answered him, and he gave no fight.

“Are you ready?” I ask him now, as I start the shower, the soft patter of water misting the stone floor and steady steam collecting within the glass walls.

“Yes, I am far more prepared now knowing that you do not have to shoulder this burden alone.”

I observe Alec continuing to dress and wrinkle my nose. “You aren’t going to bathe?”

Alec smirks over his shoulder. “I would prefer to flaunt the scent of you on my body for now.”

Rolling my eyes at his ridiculous male arrogance, I step into the steaming shower.

I briefly saw Nana the morning of my birthday, long enough to bid her farewell before she boarded the ship now sailing for Brhadir. I filled her in on the events of the previous night. Nana congratulated me vehemently, not surprised when I told her of mine and Alec’s now shared magic through our completed mating bond. She cried tears of happiness before pushing me to start my mating solitude. I was grateful that we had said our more intimate goodbyes the day before, though we will be joining her to Bokhaii.

Alec put out a message for us to not be bothered after Nana left.

Cescily left a gift in the form of my salvaged, knee high boots with a birthday card and an absurdly large cake in the kitchen. Alec and I laughed when we went downstairs to retrieve them and saw the cake that at one point read ‘Happy Birthday Elly.’ The word birthday was exed out and ‘mating’ had been written above it. The words ‘and Alec’ were messy afterthought. All written sloppily with a different colored icing.

I don my boots—good as new—when I’ve finished bathing and dressing, Alec waiting patiently in our bedchamber. He hands me my staff as we prepare to leave, and I clip it in the holster at my back. Both of his swords peak over his shoulders, imposing reminders of the skill and violence he carries. I preen at the brutal sight.

“Are you ready?” Alec asks, watching me imploringly. I answer by striding to him and wrapping my arms around his waist. “You are certain?” he asks, not sounding fully convinced.

“Yes,” I tell him with conviction.

He holds me to him affectionately and pulls us into the void.

My eyes are closed tight when we reappear, and my heartbeat increases with my nervousness. My anxiety isn’t the kind that comes with fear or uncertainty—but the kind that comes with necessary hurdles in order to move on.

This is what I need.

Bright sunlight splashes across my closed lids, soft veins of red barely discernible in the brightness. I breathe in, savoring the scent of familiarity. The air is less humid now, transitioning to the drier climate that comes with autumn. In the back of my throat, I taste the light, dusty difference that bleeds into the air as the leaves begin to change and decay, their weary stems relinquishing the fight to live. I open my eyes to find Alec looking down at me with a soft expression. I smile at him reassuringly before I pull away.

I turn and swallow the thickness forming in my throat at the sight in front of me.

The house is no different .

The only exception is the colors of the flora surrounding it in the perfectly maintained yard. With Locane’s wards broken, we were able to jump right in front of it.

It’s odd that a place that saw such atrocities bears no scars. But the scars still exist. They exist within me forever. They exist within Alec, caught in the crossfire of having to reconcile the trauma that befell his mate at the hands of his twin and where he stood in between. The scars even exist within Locane, who committed the acts he did out of his own dark desperation, born from a sickness he had no control over.

Walking around the property, I see all the places that brought me comfort while I was here. Areas that I knew and loved all the years leading up to my kidnapping.

Alec follows silently behind me as I walk up the porch stairs, my steps echoing through the silent trees around the house. I reach the door, turn the handle, and push it open slowly, the well oiled hinges making no noise to announce my entrance.

My eye catches on the stunning transom window made by Leisah that caught my attention that first day, the autumn sun beating off the colored glass and throwing facets of rainbows on the walls. I exhale shakily, sifting through the bits of truth among the lies that Locane fed me and continue into the foyer.

The house is silent and stale. The atmosphere carries the heaviness that comes to a room when the Lady of Death comes to claim one in her arms. I turn to the right, into the formal living room, at the chaise lounge, and my throat tightens. I expect my vision to warp, as it has so many times in the last months, but it doesn’t. It’s now that I notice that those effects of Locane’s hold have finally worn off .

I squeeze Alec’s hand and continue to the kitchen, skipping going up the stairs.

Turning the key of the flicker light to see the room fully, I find the island has been replaced and the wreckage of mine and Locane’s fight cleared. The room is pristine, just as it had been when I made the decision to run and fight for my freedom.

Walking to the breakfast bar, the roll door is open to show the living room, and I take stock of it from afar. Alec’s gaze is a comforting caress on me while I continue to take everything in, internally reliving everything that happened here. I don’t block my emotions from our bond; but I don’t share the images of what I’m experiencing either.

I swallow my fear and doubt that attempt to bubble to the surface with the memories. My mind wanders to what may have happened if Locane’s plans had been successful, if he had been able to bend me to his will. But I shake those thoughts as well, reminding myself that I escaped from this place, and the person who held me here.

I lean against the bar unmoving for several minutes in the pressing silence before I finally push away and walk back to the front door. When we make it to the porch, Alec closes the door quietly behind him as I walk down the steps. I stop in the yard, in the same place we appeared.

Standing with my arms crossed, my eyes dart back and forth to take it all in, and I fight the sting behind them. Alec comes to stand behind me, his calm and comforting presence enveloping me in an embrace as warm and safe as his arms. I swallow hard again, attempting to dispel the thickness in my throat.

“Would you like to destroy it?” he asks .

It’s eerily silent in the absence of the chirping birds who have moved on for the season. I continue to take in the house, biting my lip as I consider. Finally, I turn to my mate and shake my head, giving him a soft smile.

“It’s just a house. It holds no weight.”

We leave the house immediately after my denial to destroy it, going straight to the Vahnsing apartment in Crane Hills. When we arrive, we don’t move for a moment, holding each other. I pull away, giving Alec a reassuring smile as I send waves of buttery warmth down our bond.

Walking to a set of navy blue doors, I throw them open to the balcony that runs the length of the apartment six stories above Main Street in Crane Hills. I breathe in, watching the cascading waterfalls thundering between stone carved buildings across the street.

As beautiful as The Capital is, Crane Hills is a city straight from a faerie story.

People mill about on the street below, and I smile to myself, feeling lighter despite the daunting task ahead. Alec has asked me multiple times if I’m sure that I want to continue on in the search for the gems. I had to threaten to start rejecting him again if he kept asking me. He laughed and pointed out it was an empty threat now; but he stopped asking regardless.

We talked about what our next step would be if this candle maker we are here to see turns out to be a dead end. We decided on continuing to Bokhaii, to see Nana settled into her life, before going to the Gleisheon Territory, where the willowbane tree sits. We will continue to practice with our new powers and see if our Sight has grown in strength the same as our currents. Our mind magic from Alec has also not shown any signs that it’s amplified, as of yet.

“Would you like to wait until tomorrow or go now?” Alec asks from beside me. “It is still early in the day.”

Excited anticipation stirs within me. “Let’s go now,” I tell him, and he grins wide.

We walk through the cozy apartment with slate gray stone flooring and walls, draped in dark colored tapestries and carpets of rich greens, reds, and blues. The color scheme and decorative aesthetic is that of traditional Brhadirian style, starkly different from the bright colors at the palace of Quinndohs. Equally luxurious.

We exit the apartment into a private hall that leads to an outdoor terrace. A waterfall cascades through a hole in the rock terrace floor, splashing merrily where it falls several floors below. We take a winding staircase all the way down to the second level terrace. The waterfall is beating into a deep well of a fountain, only a light mist escaping the stone lip. Alec tucks my hand in the crook of his arm as he leads us to a stone staircase descending to the street below.

The streets of Crane Hills are far less busy than those of the more populous Capital. The women are dressed more conservatively than the flowy, nearly sheer styles of Quinndohs. People on the streets recognize us—giving us respectful bows and cheery smiles before moving along.

We cross a dark stone bridge over a narrow stream into the artist’s block of Main Street, and the building we seek looms ahead of us. Alec and I glance at each other quickly, our faces mirroring the other’s anticipation.

“First floor?” I ask him.

“Yes, all the way at the back. ”

Alec opens the wood and glass door, leading us inside. We enter into an antechamber, the area lit bright with flicker lights to illuminate the walls of endless windows, giving viewers an opportunity to see the wares being created.

The building is filled with hammers falling; the roll of a printing press and the following rustle of finished pages; endless glass tinkling; the soft whoosh of brushes. We only pause momentarily at each window before working towards the single door at the end of the hall. Next to the door is an interior window covered with a paisley print curtain.

As I grip the cool brass door knob, a shot of excitement from Alec barrels down our bond, turning my own giddy. My bright eyes watch him as I turn the knob. He nods at me once before I push it open.

I’m immediately hit with overwhelming scents.

The air is laced with florals, spices, and freshest cottons. With each inhale my senses are invaded with new layers. There’s lemons, pines, and sea air. On another, I’m flooded with cinnamon and crisp apples. Petunias and roasted nuts. Underneath the tones of endless candles sitting in glass jars on rows of wooden shelves is a distinctly gamey, animal smell.

A soft hoot floats down from the ceiling, and I glance up to find its source.

Along the ceiling runs wooden rafters perched with endless creatures of varying size, colors, and shapes. In all my time spent in Crane Hills, I have never been to this particular artists’ quarters. Alec’s mother let her parents space go to another long before I was born. I had asked him to show me some of the creatures he had seen in this shop, but he refused, saying it’s better in person.

I’m glad that he made me wait .

A strange, bird-like creature emits the same hooting noise that made me look up, and I inspect it as well as I can from the ground. As if it senses my curiosity, it floats down towards me and lands on my arm. The other creatures on the rafters and dispersed around the shop chitter and purr while soft feathers ruffle and claws scratch against the stone floor.

The creature on my arm resembles a great owl but is a bright, cerulean blue. Instead of clawed feet, it has three tail-like appendages with fur that wrap themselves around my arm twice in a feather soft grip. It has two small horns, like pink crystals, and three depthless, soulful, black eyes that bore into me.

My mouth and eyes widen, and Alec chuckles beside me.

I look around at all of the equally strange creatures. “Is this a candle shop or some kind of strange menagerie?”

The creature on my arm hoots again and snaps its pink beak playfully.

Just then we hear shuffling near the counter of the shop and turn towards the source. Alec and I turn back to each other with mirrored frowns after seeing the man.

The candle maker has short, orangey-red hair parted to the side exaggeratedly—the same from Alec’s memories and my vision. The same matching handlebar mustache. He wears the same purple satin shirt with velvet, emerald green suspenders and matching bow tie.

But otherwise, we don’t see the short, portly, older man we expected. Instead we are greeted by a male at least seven feet tall, stacked with muscles, and appearing to be very much in his prime. His skin and overall aura exudes an otherworldly shimmer, and a delicate point at the tip of his ears sits on top of his bright hair.

The candle maker studies a book of ledgers .

“Now, now, Roxie. Don’t be trying to frighten away any shoppers,” he chides before looking up to see Alec and I staring at him.

His gaze darts between us, drinking us in, then trails to the staff at my back. His eyes go wide as he breaks into a happy smile—his sharp, elongated canines visible with his catlike grin.

“Oh,” he says, gleeful surprise etched across his face. “So, the great game has finally begun.”