Page 29 of Winds of Ruin
Cassidee hummed a satisfied “I told you so” to Wyeth.
Mayra left Lark’s side and approached me on unsure taloned feet. She pecked gently at my hand until I scratched her neck, and then she closed her eyes, contented.
My heart squeezed; my eyes burned. Iwould notcry in front of them.
The risk of disappointing Lark wasn’t the only reason I didn’t refuse her.
I needed this silly little bird.
Chapter 11
Emmerick
Alight shone through the void.
Someone was trying to reach me.
“Elsedora?” I shouted.
Don’t panic. Don’t panic.
Caym dragged me by my ankles, away from the opening to the world. I skidded through murky green water, clawing for leverage and heaving for breath. The weight of his rage pressed down on my back, crushing the air from my lungs.
“I will destroy them all,” he hissed.
I roared in protest. The longer I slept, the more sense of myself Caym chiseled away, replacing any lingering joy with visions of life lost under his command. I couldn’t tell where my misdeeds ended and someone else’s began. Death aimed to create a pit of despair so deep that I wouldn’t dare climb free of it.
“I’ll stay locked in here forever with you sooner than let you set one foot into the world again,” I snarled and crawled toward the light.
An endless barrage of horrid memories and hatred gripped me nearlyallthe time, save for the relief of the moments when Elsedora or my parents guided me away. I could tell one of them called to me now. Ripples of light coursed through the void, beckoning me closer.
“Emmerick?” My mother’s voice cut through the thick amber smoke.
I clambered through the sludge toward the pane, where my parents sat side by side, holding the mirror so they both fit in the frame. They couldn’t see me until I stood, finally snapping free from Death’s grasp.
Here, happy in the joy their presence brought me, Caym could no longer reach me.
“Hello, Mama, Papa.” I greeted them with a gasp.
My mother’s smile faded, and her back stiffened. I tried my hardest not to worry them about things out of their control. They were no more able to stop what was happening to me than I was.
“Emmerick, my dear,” Mother said. “Are you alright? You’re covered in mud.”
I glanced down, finding sooty liquid clinging to my tunic. Some of it dripped from my hair onto my forehead. My blood ran cold. Usually, when I left Caym’s hold, nothing he’d put me through appeared to them.
“Never been better,” I said, with a hard swallow, forcing a chipper tone.
Mama didn’t seem convinced. “Elsedora brought us your lovely gifts. My favorites as always—thank you, dear.”
My father added, “The chocolates are already gone.”
Doing my best to wipe my face with my dirtied sleeve, I smiled at them both.
Mama wore a simple blue tunic with her silver hair plaited over the crown of her head. She seemed frailer than I remembered her; I resisted frowning.
Papa took the mirror from her, allowing her to relax her arms at her sides.
“You’re welcome. I’m glad you liked them. Of course I would have delivered them myself…”
