Page 249 of May: Bloom & Bane

We’ve lost hours, Ash.

When my eyes snap open, the moon is gone, replaced by the weak, watery gray of an early morning sun that offers no warmth. An entire night has been stolen from my life. I’m on my knees, my knuckles buried deep in a patch of earth where the snow has been frantically clawed away. My shoulders throb with exhaustion.

Ashán. Oh thank gods! Sage’s voice fills my head. There you are. Do you remember who I am?

“Of course I do. Why are you asking me that?”

Tell me, he begs, his words trembling in my mind. Tell me who I am.

“You’re me, Sage. I am you. We are two halves of the same soul.”

Relief floods through our bond. And where are we?

I glance around, pulling my hands from the snow. “We’re still in this cursed forest. Where’s the beast?”

Resting, I’m sure. Sage says. He hasn’t been near us for hours. He took a lot of damage.

I let out a smoky breath. Guilt and relief wrestle inside me.

“Why is he doing this? I don’t want to hurt him; I just want to get to our Saevúra.”

I’ve studied him when the curse takes you, Sage murmurs. He is giant compared to us, Ash. He could crush us with a single strike if he truly wanted to. But he hasn’t. Not once has he raised a paw to harm you, even when you’ve clawed at his throat. He only keeps us from her.

“So you think… he’s part of the curse?” I say, searching the trees for his sable brown fur. “You think he was sent as a deterrent?”

If he was, Sage notes, he’s the most reluctant weapon I’ve ever seen.

“He’s not a weapon, Sage. He’s a tool—and we need to figure out how to use him to our advantage.”

Sage is silent for a moment. How?

“He’s resting, presumably. Which means he’s stationary. And we know he only acts when we try to pass him. If he’s a deterrent, we make him deter… nothing.”

I drop low to the ground, dragging myself through the icy brush, careful not to snap a single branch until I reach the sturdiest boughs I can find. They block out the sun completely. I close my eyes and reach into the void inside me. My shadows answer, bleeding upward from the ground. I will them higher, forcing them to climb and weave together above my head until they lock into place like thick iron bars.

A cage. Sage breathes. Ash… you’re a genius!

“Don’t call me that until I figure out how we trick him into this exact spot,” I whisper. He only tracks us when we try to reach her. My eyes scan the dense treeline. “So we give him exactly what he’s waiting for.”

I draw in a deep breath, forcing the exhaustion out of my limbs and focus on the faint scent of Eden on the wind. I push off the ground and sprint.

You’re baiting him, Sage realizes. He’ll move to intercept us.

Exactly, I murmur. We just have to make sure he intercepts us right here.

I make as much noise as possible, snapping frozen twigs and crashing through the underbrush. I throw myself forward with everything I have left, simulating the exact panic of a beast making a final break for its mate.

He’s coming, Sage warns. And he’s moving fast!

A deafening sound echoes through the trees up ahead, shaking the snow from the upper branches. He’s coming to bend the path again, right on schedule.

It’s working. Two more strides and he’ll burst right through the thicket, directly beneath the trap.

Now, Ash! Sage cries.

I reach for the shadows, ready to drop the cage, but the forest shifts around us once again. The air pressure drops, and the scent of Eden’s trail vanishes. The clearing with my hidden cage is ripped away like a reflection in rippling water.

“NOO!” I roar. “Gods damn it.”