I was far from ready. Clueless.
All the years Kaylin and I spent together—meaningless. She left as soon as she could. Ever the dutiful apprentice, I let her leave me behind. And where exactly had that gotten me? I should have demanded she return to the island. To me. I told myself at the time that I held my tongue out of respect. But in truth it was cowardice… Too cowardly to hear her say the words aloud.
That she chose her family over me.
It wasn’t fair.Someone should have been here, to teach me how to light the lampposts. Kaylin should have taught me. Instead, she abandoned me. It was an ugly, uncharitable thought. I wouldn’t even know how to read if she hadn’t adopted me. She only ever wanted to keep me safe. But there was a price to be paid from being so isolated, an impact she underestimated in her desire to protect me from harm.
I couldn’t shake my anger; I couldn’t stem the bitter flow of resentment pouring out of me. Kaylin was the most important person in my life. She had failed me as a mentor. Reconciling both was tearing me apart.
Find a life of your own to live.Kaylin’s wish for me. Her way of telling me to treat the island as my sanctuary from danger, not my true home. She meant for me to find an apprentice and leave its care to them. Just as she had done to me. A broken, self-perpetuating cycle.
Kaylin was abandoned too.It was only right to acknowledge that fact. I reminded myself she couldn’t teach me what she didn’t know. Her mentor, Juniper, had left her alone too. Underdifferent circumstances, but the end result was the same. I thought back to all the times she had looked embarrassed or ashamed when she couldn’t answer my questions about the island. Eventually, I stopped asking altogether. She’d been given just as little to work with.
For a moment, I let myself feel that same temptation. To take an apprentice so that I would no longer be alone on the island. But I knew, deep inside myself, I couldn’t welcome somebody new to the island without leaving them a legacy worth having.
There was no one to guide me on this path. I could still decide to take a step forward.
Still decide to build something better—for whoever came next. I clapped firmly in a sharp staccato rhythm. Instilling as much authority as possible into my voice, I issued my command. “Light!”
Every single lamppost flared to life.
Violet flames licked against the walls of each glass fixture, filling every nook and cranny. Those closest to me, then all the rest, brilliant violet light cascading down the walkway in a powerful wave. A heartbeat later, the pathway became a bright beacon of light, illuminating the island with its warm, welcoming glow. The flame burned steady, not a flicker in sight.
“I am an absolute idiot,” I muttered, thinking of all the trouble I could have saved myself by uttering just one word. “A persistent idiot though,” I amended, the grin on my face growing wider and wider by the moment. A wild laugh bubbled out of my chest, constrained at first, then increasingly out of control. I danced around like a madwoman. I did a cartwheel down the pathway. I bowed to a nonexistent audience.
Who might visit me now?
CHAPTER NINE
Mid-autumn was always a busy season in the vegetable garden. I yanked another radish out of the ground, adding it to the colorful pile of leafy greens, red peppers, and yellow squash decorating my basket. Another plentiful harvest. Even my tomatoes were still ripening on the vine. And they looked delectable. Reaching over, I plopped the juiciest specimen into my mouth, savoring the explosion of flavor when I crunched down. A contented sigh escaped. There was nothing quite like the reward of seeing all my labor culminate in a successful harvest.
I surveyed my garlic next, yellow with dry leaves. Ready to be picked and later braided. I added harvesting the garlic to the increasingly long list of tasks I planned to complete before the first frost of the year. There were crops to store in the root cellar, herbs to bundle and hang from its ceiling, plant beds to clear of debris, seeds to dry and label for future planting, weeds to be pulled, mulch to be spread to nurture the soil, berry bushes to be pruned back. The list went on and on and on—
I should probably start scaling back the garden some now that Kaylin isn’t coming back.
A raven swooped low, catching my attention. Corvin. It took me slightly aback that I could recognize him so easily, already adept at telling him apart from the other ravens living on the island. I looked down at my arm, conspicuously missing its sling. A week passed since we last talked, and during that time my arm fully healed.
We had spoken once in the mirror when I told him I’d finally managed to light the lampposts on the island. A small prickle of guilt ran down my spine that I hadn’t contacted him again to cancel our plans after realizing my arm was doing so much better. But he’d sounded so happy for me about the lampposts, and his interest in helping me to resolve his father’s debt seemed genuine, so perhaps I didn’t need to feel too terribly guilty about inviting him back to winterize the garden with me.
Corvin shifted the moment his feet touched land, walking in my direction. He wore a plain black tunic and pants, simple attire that was appropriate for working outdoors. Sitting on my knees in the dirt, I peered up at him as he approached, shielding my eyes from the sun. “You grow all of this yourself?” he asked, crouching down next to me, and running a hand over the leaves of the closest plant. “That’s impressive.” He looked at me sideways. “I’m glad to see your arm is feeling better.”
I stood up, knees muddy and fingernails caked in dirt, beckoning him away from the garden. “Thanks for coming back. Here, I want to show you something.” I led him to the front of the cottage, pointing out the dark green vines growing there, bestowed on me by the Green Man. They were thriving, which was a relief. Yet, their identity remained a mystery. No blooms. I supposed they could be a non-flowering plant, but I was still holding out hope for something wondrous…
“Do you want to work on constructing a trellis for the Green Man’s vines?” I asked. “There’s wood and supplies in the garden shed. I’d like to lean a trellis against each side of the cottage wall, so the vines will climb upward instead.”
His response was enthusiastic. “I think I can handle that. I’ll help you with your weeding afterward.”
When Corvin eventually rejoined me in the garden, we knelt close by one another, silently focused on removing weeds. His large, powerful hands effortlessly dug into the soil, using thegarden trowel I loaned him. Sweat trickled down the side of his face, plastering his midnight-black hair, which usually looked windswept, back into place. We worked together for an hour, making steady progress.
Corvin leaned over, plucking the weed in front of me.
“Hey!” I laughed, reaching over him to return the weed to my own growing pile.
He grinned. “Oh, sorry. Was that one yours?”
I brandished my garden trowel at him. “No cheating, or you’ll never repay your debt to me.” I sat up on my knees, wiping the sweat from my brow. “About that… You told me it’s your fault your father is sick. And that’s why you decided to take on his debts for him. What did you mean? You mentioned he’s been sick ever since your childhood, so I wasn’t sure.”
The light went out of Corvin’s eyes, his smile slipping. “It’s my fault he’s sick because…” He turned his face away from me, a noticeable quiver in his voice when he continued. “It’s my fault he’s sick because it’s my fault my mother died, and she meant everything to him. I will never forget the noise he made when he found her body and realized she was gone.” Corvin pierced the dirt with his trowel. “His illness started right around that time.”
