Cedric swung his and Elyria’s linked hands between them. “Remind you of anything?”
She looked at him. “Feels like we’re starting to make a habit of these long walks down even longer hallways, doesn’t it?”
He grinned, lifting her hand to press a quick kiss to the back of her knuckles. “You won’t catch me complaining.”
“Just as long as you promise me this one won’t end the same way the last one did.” The lilt of her voice was teasing, but the tightening of her grip had Cedric very aware of the deeper meaning underneath.
“I promise,” he said, and he meant it. Nothing would tear him from the woman at his side now—least of all his own stupidity, regardless of how noble his intentions might have been during the final trial.
Last night had changed something. Changed everything. There was a quiet in Cedric that wasn’t there before. His soul felt brighter, clearer, freer than it had in his more than twenty-eight years of life—the clean air after a storm.
He glanced at Elyria from the corner of his eye, his mouth twitching with amusement as she wove a casual tendril of wild magic through a patch of merryleaf, enticing a vine forward so she could pluck a few white blossoms from it. She dropped Cedric’s hand to weave the blooms into her braid, drawing it over one shoulder before entwining their fingers once more.
“What do you think we’re in for?” she asked him as the arched trees started to thin, the branches overhead opening, widening, as though making room for whatever lay ahead.
“Hells if I know,” he replied. “I just want to find the others and make sure they’re all right. If we come across anyone else in here that might be able to provide us some answers, well, that will be a bonus.”
“I’m just glad this place changed its mind about me,” she said with a laugh, though her glib attitude couldn’t hide the sliver of fear that twanged down the bond into Cedric’s chest.
Cedric didn’t need to ask why the archway had suddenly accepted Elyria. Why they were finally allowed to cross through the gate. He could feel that single wisp of her shadow curling around his ribs, and he knew, he just knew, that a spark of his own magic sat in her as well. Just as he knew that, for whatever reason, he was welcome here.
The path before them widened before pouring out into a wide green glade—an open valley encircled by more towering silveroak trees. And Cedric sucked in a breath, because that wasn’t all there was here. Dozens of huts, houses, and structures were dotted throughout the valley. Some looked rather traditionally built, while others had been seamlessly woven into the bordering forest, as if they’d grown out of the very roots and trunks and soil.
Branches grew sideways and downward, forming thatched roofs and twig-woven walls. Vines twisted into ladders, thick cables that held benches and hammocks and swings, hovering in midair. Thirty or so feet away, a small brook babbled.
None of that was what had Cedric’s breath catching in his throat.
No, it was the people here. Thechildren.
Kids splashed at the edge of the stream. Adults hung laundry to dry in the breeze. Youths played flipball on the other side of the clearing.
It was so . . . joyful. So lovely. And so?—
“Stars above,” Elyria breathed, coming to the realization at the same time as Cedric.“Just look at them.”
Cedric looked. Looked at the pair of sylvan women chatting over a barrel of sudsy water, cleaning rags on a washboard. Looked at the delicate pointed ears of two of the teenaged-looking boys chasing after a runaway ball. The shock of cerulean hair on another. And then his attention went to a little girl who played in the dirt nearby, his gaze darting from the blonde pigtails tied atop her head to her rounded ears...to the shimmering rose-colored wings fluttering on her back.
“Mixedborn,”Cedric said in his mind, and Elyria squeezed his hand.
“Sanctuary,”she said back, and when Cedric looked at her, her emerald eyes were glassy.
“Oi! It’s about damn time!” Thraigg’s voice was a booming guffaw that broke through Cedric’s reverie. The dwarf was slung over a low table outside a small wooden building just to the right of where they’dentered the glade. He had a wooden mug in one hand and was waving animatedly with the other, beckoning them over.
“How is—Where are—What is—” Cedric couldn’t get the words out, couldn’t seem to form a rational sentence on his tongue. He didn’t even realize when his body made contact with the bench next to Thraigg, taking a seat next to the dwarf. He was too busy watching that little girl with wings slap a fistful of mud from one hand to the other, flattening it before calling out in a high-pitched voice, “Breakfast is ready!”
“It’s quite amazing to behold, isn’t it?” Ollie’s voice was uncharacteristically soft as he emerged from the shack behind them, a plate of biscuits balanced on one hand.
“Thisis Elderglade?” Elyria said, wonder in her voice.
“Aye,” said Thraigg. “Not sure I would’ve believed it if I hadn’t seen it myself either, lass.”
“But how—” Elyria shook her head, as if deciding that wasn’t the right question to ask. “You two are all right? Where’s Shep? Jocelyn?”
Ollie grinned. “More than all right. It’s you two we were worried about.” His eyes flicked to the side of Elyria’s neck, and he smirked. “Though perhaps we needn’t have been.”
Elyria scowled at her friend, snatching a biscuit and slamming onto the bench across from Cedric. He suppressed a smile as her boot nudged at his own.
“Shep was invited to meet with the sylvan elders,” Ollie explained, setting the plate on the table. “Joss went with him.”
