Page 45 of The Endless One

“They’re everywhere,” she murmured, lifting her hand, which was now wrapped in all that gold. Like someone had tied the ropes in loops around her arms, they traveled all the way up to her chest. “You don’t see it all?”

“See what?”

“The writing.” Jessamine shook her head, and her eyes widened in what looked like wonder. “It’s all so beautiful, Elric.”

He looked over at Sybil, who just shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I don’t see anything either.”

Jessamine let out a little laugh. “I guess this was all left by the gravesingers, then, if neither of you can read it. There’s so much here that they wrote, Elric. Stories about you. About their lives.”

He watched her walk over to the wall, her fingers trailing over invisible words. He hadn’t seen her this enchanted in a long time. Perhaps it was connecting to people who were supposed to be just like her. Or maybe it was something else entirely. She was just… happy to be here. Surrounded by magic.

No longer was she afraid of the snakes that coiled around her shoulders as she pointed out pieces of the stories that neither he nor Sybil could see.

“This one’s talking about a lover,” she said with a soft laugh. “It seems he was a rather dense young man, and never knew that his new bride was a witch. Imagine his surprise when he walked into their bedroom one night and discovered her sacrificing a chicken.”

He grinned at the thought. Elric never thought he would laugh in this room, of all places. “I imagine that would be startling, but my old covens were very good at hiding who they were. They had to hide themselves, after all.”

Then her fingers trailed over another section. “Wait, this… this is talking about the gods. Sybil, come here. If you don’t mind recording what I’m saying. Maybe… maybe there’s something here we can use.”

He watched as the two of them gathered together. Sybil pulled a small notebook out of her side pocket, and they started murmuring together. It was a scene he had watched so many times in his life, and yet it still made him dizzy to see the witches doing what they did best.

Working together. Always.

Quietly, he backed out of the cave and allowed them to be witches without the eyes of a god on them.

He intended to give them privacy, but Elric knew he was also running from what he saw in there. He refused to believe something had happened to Jessamine. Yet he had to face the truth. Her magic had a different color, a different flavor. That terrified him.

His brother’s spell had not worked. He would know if it had worked, surely. Other gods were easy to recognize, and his little gravesinger was not yet housing a goddess. But what if the spell took time to work? What if, somehow, Ajax was manipulating the spell he’d woven, even from a kingdom away?

Too many questions burned in his mind, and he couldn’t focus on finding the answers when she was right in front of him. All he could think about was the beloved curve of her cheek, or the way that her entire being lit up his whole world. Then he started fearing what his life would look like without her. Anxiety poured in the moment he thought about losing her. He would never be able to come back from that.

This was why he’d stayed away from the other witches. He knew what it was like to grow attached, and he knew how limiting it could be. When one of them needed help, he had to have a clear mind. That was his duty. It was his role. He was the god who protected them. The god who did everything he could, even at his own expense. But he was unwilling to do that for anyone else when Jessamine made his entire soul burn.

Scrubbing his hand with his face, he tried to ground himself with fresh air. Even out of the cave, though, he knew he would have to return to it. The old memories still clung to him. Gripping his shoulders as though pulling him back toward the darkness. They wanted him to remember all the things that had been done to him here. All the things that he’d tried hard to forget.

Covering his eyes didn’t help. All he could see were the memories every time he blinked, and if he wasn’t careful, he was going to get lost in them.

So he took a step away from the madness. Another step. Another. Elric forced himself to head into the forest and sit down on a fallen log. He kept his back to the cave the entire time, focusing instead on his heartbeat until all the thoughts melted away and he could think clearly once more.

Ajax’s spell was a complicated one, but Elric had always been good at unraveling other magic. He knew how to mimic spells and how to change them over into his own control. If he could figure that out, then perhaps he would know how to stop his brother.

He’d almost gotten ahold of the solution when he heard a shout from the cave. At first, he wasn’t sure what it was. Perhaps the two women had found an answer to their question. For that, he would be grateful. At the very least, the witches deserved that.

But then another shout came from closer, and this one made his blood run cold. He recognized the fear in those tones, even if he couldn’t understand the words.

Standing, he ran back toward the cave as Sybil emerged from the shadows. Her dark eyes were large and wide, panic setting into her features as she caught sight of him.

“Elric! It’s Jessamine. There’s something wrong.”

He didn’t stop to ask what had happened, he just bolted into the cave. A thousand things could have gone wrong, but none of them would stop him from saving her.

Jessamine lay on the floor, her hands curled into her chest and her back bowed the same as the last time. Trails of blood dripped from her eyes, running down onto the stones beneath her. Wherever her blood touched, flowers bloomed. Bright blue primroses with glistening gold centers, as though they had been dipped in the ichor of the gods.

She looked like she was in so much pain, but somehow, she was smiling. Those pretty, berry-red lips that had always trapped his attention were stretched in a wide grin even as her unseeing eyes stared above her.

The image was as concerning as it was eerie. She wasn’t right. This wasn’t normal. She shouldn’t be bleeding like this and yet somehow enjoying every second of it. As he watched, foam peeked through her lips, slowly trailing down her cheeks.

Sybil stood beside him, wringing her hands with worry. “What can we do?” she asked.