Page 69
Thicket held out the rose, the same way he had once done for her. “Friends?”
Elian took it. His image was distorted in the layers of petals. Thicket hoped one day, she would be able to see him clearly.
“Friends,” he said.
Thicket and Elian returned to the beach where Marcellus waited with a glower, Bern rocking on her heels beside him. “Are you done with your little romantic stroll?” he drawled.
Thicket stiffened, daring a glance at Elian. His expression didn’t give anything away, yet he appeared more reserved than usual. Her chest twisted, knowing she was the cause of his pain.
This was for the best, she reminded herself.
“We—” she cut off as she spotted Caspian approaching from the port. They darted across the beach in unison.
Thicket didn’t bother catching her breath before blurting, “Do you have news?”
Caspian’s eyes twinkled. “Indeed I do. The King of Dymree has agreed to your terms. Get ready because tomorrow, you will set off to the Desert Kingdom.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Thicket handed Marcellus her pack, which he fastened onto one of the Dymrian horses. They had managed to save all of them except for the one Elian rode to the farmhouse. Thicket hoped it had escaped safely, but its absence left them with only four horses to accommodate for the five of them.
The Desert Kingdom was just beyond the mountains bordering Spindlewood forest. With the horses, it would only be a few days round trip. Vindrya would begin preparations so that by the time they returned, Dymree would have arrived and they would be ready to march on Minloc.
That was if it all went according to plan.
“Is that it?” Marcellus asked.
“I think so.” Thicket glanced over her shoulder. Bern had already strapped her belongings to her horse and had gone off to say goodbye to her father before they departed, leaving Lotta and Elian unaccounted for.
A cold, wet nose pressed against Thicket’s hand. She crouched to hug Bayo’s large head. “You can’t come with us,” she murmured into the wolf’s ear. “It’s too dangerous.”
Marcellus raised an eyebrow. “You do know she can’t understand you.”
“Of course she can!” Thicket said. She lowered her voice even further. “He’s just jealous that he doesn’t have such a loyal friend to see him off.”
“I don’t need or want friends,” he groused. “I have enough to take care of as it is.”
She didn’t need to look at him to know that last statement was directed at her.
She sighed and let go of Bayo, scooting to sit beside the canal. She tucked her legs in close, her toes just hanging over the edge. Bayo followed, head resting in her lap. To her surprise, Marcellus took a seat beside her. He didn’t look at her, fixated on the lifeless, glass-like water. Peering over the edge, she caught a glimpse of her reflection. She quickly drew away, scared of what she might see.
It was easy to pretend she was confident and brave when she didn’t have the truth written within the lines of her face. The pinched brows, tight lips, and absence of dimples.
She remembered the vision of Lavender bent over her shoulder, lips pulled into a wicked smile as she whispered, You will never be enough.
They sat there like that for a while, Marcellus looking at the water. Her looking ahead where a whole other part of town was smashed together in a pile of color. What would Sleeria have looked like when it was alive if this half resurrected version already looked so cheerful?
“What did you see?” Marcellus asked. “Under the jellyfish venom.”
“I already told you,” Thicket said.
“Don’t look at the individual elements. Look at the whole picture.” His voice dropped. “What does happiness look like to you, Princess?”
Thicket finally glanced at the water. Instead of her reflection, she saw the visions she had seen while at the Lost Soul Lagoon. Two sets of friends. Two sets of parents. Two very different worlds. They all shifted, bouncing back and forth as though her mind couldn’t quite land on one.
She didn’t know which one was right or wrong or which one would bring her happiness.
Don’t look at the individual elements. Look at the whole picture.
