“I do.”
“We thought it was here.” Nico comes into view with the map tucked into the pocket of his top. “But it’s like there is an invisible force field or something.”
“Can you not see the gate around it?”
They all turn their head towards the tree. “It’s just an empty field,” Vera answers for them all.
Feeling suddenly normal again, I take a step forward. Iann holds on to me, but I assure him I’m okay.
Glowing like a worm in a deep, darkened cave, the tree emits a hypnotic turquoise light. Through the slits of iron bars, I catch glimpses of white petals dusted with a purple sheen. The Ivian Flower.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up. A perplexing force shifts around the area. One that makes me both want to run screaming and draw closer to the tree.
I wonder if this fence appeared as part of Morrena’s enchantment or if it was originally part of the isle’s foundation? It’s out of place and makes me a tad worrisome.
Moving along the tall iron posts that protrude from the ground and circle the tree, I search for a way in and feel the others follow. They don’t ask questions or insert opinions, they simply watch and allow me to explore.
Within minutes of searching, I come to a bolted section within the gate that forms an opening. My fingers trail over the lock, tracing the keyhole. It’s not a regular keyhole, this one requires a specific shape—that of an anchor.
“I think I found the way in.” Like a magnet I’m pulled to Iann instantly. His eyes are eager, hungry to see the legend we’ve been chasing. “I need the anchor.”
Deean dumps the contents of his bag on the ground. The anchor is the last item to fall out and he swoops it up so fast I don’t think it even has a chance to hit the ground. He walks it over like it’s the most precious thing in the world. My hand dips when he places it in my palm. I nearly forgot how much weight it carries.
Aligning the anchor to the keyhole I confirm it is a perfect fit, and then I insert and turn it, until the clicking noises come to an end.
A ripple runs along the gate, as a gust of air rushes through my hair, and I see nearby trees bend to its power.
“What was that?” Deean shouts as everyone shields their eyes.
“Magnificent,” Benny says, “I can see it now.”
The wind stops and the gate opens. Whatever enchantment Morrena put on the perimeter is broken or temporarily interrupted. Who knows how much magic that woman used.
“I thought only you could see it?” Iann is at my side, his eyes locked on the tree that’s finally within his grasp.
My head shakes in bewilderment. “That’s what she said. But maybe only until we unlocked the gate?” I rub his arm. “We found it. We can save your mom.”
There is no hesitation, no disturbances, no issues as we walk through the gate. The only difference is a shift in the land surrounding the tree.
While the tree stands tall, thriving in its stance, the field around it is dry and nearly dying. I assume it’s another thing the enchantment was concealing.
“The ship,” Chana says, her finger pointing towards the shore.
“He must have seen the powder Deean and Sky set off.” Iann holds a new reassurance in his voice. “Let’s get this flower and go.”
The petals shine brighter as we approach, the vibrant allure carries us closer. The flowers’ scent is a sweet intoxication, like the smell wants us to devour them all.
There are hundreds of flowers on the tree, some hang low enough to pluck off and others are at the tippy top, out of reach.
No one takes the chance of reaching for one first, so I do.
Like velvet slipping into my hands, the petals are there waiting to be plucked, and with one quick movement that’s exactly what I do.
You’d think after being cut from its life support it would dim, but the bloom only glows brighter and there is an urge to shove it in my mouth and consume immortality.
“Are you okay?” Once Iann touches me my mind drifts back. The urge to eat it falls away.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Someone else should try.” If the flower I just picked can be sent back to Morrena then Iann can keep one for his mother, meaning we won’t have to choose between the two.
