Page 63 of The Endless One

Elric thought he’d been there a few hours when he heard the first sound. It was the smallest clink. Like a foot had brushed against something that wasn’t meant to be touched, and then the deafening silence again.

But this time, it felt different. Like someone was watching him.

The hairs on his arms stood on end, and he had the deep sense he knew this person. He just wasn’t certain how he knew that. Jessamine was gone. Fractured as she died and the magic inside of her ate its way out of her body, but… this felt like her.

Hope bloomed in his chest as he turned toward whatever was watching him. A smear of darkness ahead of him ducked into a building, but it was far too small.

Still, he followed that sight. Quietly. Until he stepped into the room and saw a small child curled up in the corner with her face hidden from him. She was so small most people would have missed her. She blended into the shadows so easily, he understood why she hid like this. A few glances would never have revealed her location. But then it struck him that he’d seen her before in Jessamine’s memories.

This was her. But younger, far younger than he had ever seen her.

Bending down, he waited until she looked at him. And when those big, dark eyes locked upon his, he felt something ease in his chest. “What are you doing here, little one?”

“Hiding,” she whispered.

“From who?”

“From the bad woman.” The tiny version of Jessamine broke his heart. She was so fragile. Her fear made him want to smash anything that had terrified her, and yet, he wasn’t certain what he was meant to kill.

“Who is the bad woman?” he asked.

“A goddess. Hide or run,” the little girl whispered. “That’s what we were told.”

“We?”

“All the pieces of me.” She shuffled a little closer to him, her entire body quaking as though she wanted someone to hug her. “Unless… Are you the shadow man?”

Brave, wonderful, loyal girl. Jessamine had known he would come for her. Some hope had still existed that even after death he would find her, and he damn well would.

She had known he wouldn’t let her go that easily. He would follow her to the very end of time itself.

Elric struggled to catch up with her plan. Pieces of her. Hunted. There had to be something here that Jessamine had wanted him to know, and of course he’d found the childlike version of her first. This was not someone who would know the entire plan. He was certain of that. But still, he had to try.

“I am the shadow man,” he said, holding out his hand for her to take. “How many more pieces of you are there?”

“Many.”

“Do you know where the others are?”

The girl reached for him, tucking her tiny hand into his, and he felt like his heart could shatter. “I know where one is.”

It was a start. He drew her up to her feet, watching as she gently smoothed down the skirt she wore. It was a black dress. Prim and proper, with starched sleeves and a little flared skirt that fell just below her knees. She’d been so adorable at this age. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms so nothing bad would ever happen to her.

How could anyone look at a child like this and not want to hide the world away? She didn’t deserve to face the horrors that awaited her as an adult. He bent, picking her up and holding her on his hip like he’d done so a hundred times in his life.

“All right, little Jessa, where is the next piece of you?”

She put her hand on his shoulder, so trusting and so limp in his grasp. Him. A man she had never met before, but someone she’d been told to trust. This girl had been so innocent and the world had broken her so much.

“That way,” she said. “Stay quiet, though. The bad woman might find us.”

He wasn’t sure who the bad woman was, but he didn’t want to stand around and find out.

Elric followed her directions, surprised one so young would know the area so well. Though he didn’t ask, he suspected that she was abnormally smart for her age. Or perhaps she’d had to run so many times that she knew how to get to where she was safe.

Finally, they walked around a corner of the city and it opened up into deep moors. His feet sank into the mossy substrate that turned into muck. He was grateful to be wearing boots, but even though they came up to his knees, they weren’t waterproof. Soon enough, he was treading through knee-high water, with mud that tried to slow him down, and weeping willows that surrounded them.

The light here was dimmer, creating more darkness and shadows. But everything was still golden. Everything was still created out of magic that should not be.