Chapter Eleven

We collapsed in a clearing. Unsurprisingly, Alder stopped first. He stumbled forward, his hands on his knees, chest heaving, and sank to the ground. He rolled onto his back, and I watched as his chest rose and fell with effort. There was a sheen of sweat on his skin, making his brow, neck, collarbone, and arms shine in the sunlight filtered through the birch leaves.

I wanted to help him, but I didn’t know how. He’d used up so much mana. First, literally moving an entire mound of earth, and then, making full-grown trees pop up out of nowhere. And we must’ve run half a mile through forests after that.

Dropping down next to him, I lay on my back, too. For some reason, I was tempted to take his hand. But I worried I might end up stealing more mana from him, and it was clear he needed as much as he could get. So I moved my arm close, my knuckles just a breath from his.

While we lay there, I noticed shades of green mist flowing from the earth directly into his skin.

Did he draw mana from this world simply by existing in it?

Alder moved his forearm over his eyes, as a soft rumble started in his chest. The rumble turned into a chuckle, then full-blown laughter. He laughed without abandon, rich and loud and just…happy.

I sat up, gaping at him. “What the heck is so funny?”

I didn’t really see the comedy in getting almost trampled or punctured to death by wooden stakes.

Slowly, his laughter faded, then he lifted his arm a little to reveal one green eye. He grinned at me. “You called the guardian spirit of the earth gate Bambi’s dad.”

For too long, I stared at him. My silly reference hadn’t even been the least bit hilarious. And yet he’d laughed like it was the closing joke on a comedy special.

My gaze darted to the bracelet on his wrist, remembering how he’d took off running with me. Trusting me wholly. I swallowed, but something caught in my throat. Why did I feel this ache to know that this boy—a stranger in many ways—laughed at my corny jokes?

“Oh, good. You survived.”

We both looked to the side to find Raysh sitting on a rock covered in moss, licking his paws. It reminded me of the way a human would check their nails—an air of indifference around them.

“Yes, no thanks to you.” Alder heaved himself up to his feet, no longer as shaky or as pale as before. He seemed to have soaked up enough energy to feel normal again.

“I guided you to the key, didn’t I? Speaking of which, do you have it?”

“What? Oh!” I glanced down at my enclosed fist. Concerned with Alder’s weak state, I’d totally forgotten that we’d retrieved what we came for. Uncurling my fingers to reveal the small brown twig, I held it up for Alder. “I sure hope this is it,” I muttered, then cradled the twig in my hand, hoping not to squeeze it too tight in case I accidentally snapped it.

He held out his hand to help me up. “One way to find out.”

I took his hand and got to my feet. Then I glanced at Raysh, looking at my guide expectantly. “So we have to take it back to the physical plane now, right?”

“Yes, and Alder must infuse it with his mana.”

“Okay, so how do we get back…?”

Silently, Alder wrapped an arm around my waist, bringing me close to his chest.

Startled, I was about to push him away and tell him to leave room for the holy spirit, when a tunnel of wind erupted at our feet.

I gasped, pressing my face into his collarbone and wrapping my arms tightly around his neck, as the wind blew my hair and batted my clothes against my body.

But as soon as it began, it was over. As the vortex of wind died down to a soft breeze that whirled around our feet, kicking up leaves and shredded grass, Alder stepped away from me. Hands on my shoulders, he ducked his head to meet my gaze. “Sorry—I should’ve warned you. Thought you’d remember from the last time.”

Now of course, I remembered the tunnel of wind and the hand that had pulled me back to the physical world, after I’d met my mom.

But my head was so full of things that I felt like I was beginning to forget everything, and for a girl with retrograde amnesia, that was probably the scariest thing that could happen.

I took a steadying breath, tucking pieces of flyaway hair behind my ears. “No, it’s okay. I’m good.”

“Are you ready to use the key?”

Glancing down, I found the fox curled around my shins. The emissary pawed at my sneakers, except its paw slipped right through them.

I looked around at the forest. It was a different place than where we had entered the ethereal world. The trees around us were a collection of wild crabapple and hawthorn—both trees that grew in mid-to-low elevations. The sky was still blue with a tinge of orange and gold coming from the west. The sun was just beginning to set, and its light spilling across the mountains made the valley look truly angelic. Celestial. Divine… Whatever you wanted to call it. No surprise that spirits dwelled here.

“Right here?” I asked Raysh.

“Should be safe enough. It’s well out of the reach of any humans or nature trails,” Alder said, hands on his hips, as he glanced around the area.

“How do you know?” I asked.

Alder just smiled.

I tilted my chin and returned his smirk with one of my own. “Oh, a nature spirit thing. Well, aren’t you handy?”

Alder just chuckled and shook his head. “Glad you think so.”

Then I frowned, thinking about any humans being nearby. “But is that a concern? Humans being close by, I mean.”

“No,” Raysh said at the same time Alder said, “Yes.”

With an irritated glare at the fox, Alder explained, “I’m not sure what will happen when we use this key, so yes, it’s a concern. But, we’re a good distance away. We should be fine.”

The twig was strangely warm in my hand, warm like it had some life in it. But then again, it had been part of the guardian itself, even if it was a branch. And I knew enough now to realize that everything in these mountains was alive.

“What happens to the guardian after I use this key?” I asked, curious.

I hadn’t thought about what it would do to the gates within the ethereal plane once I opened them in the physical.

“Nothing terrible, if that is what you are worried about.”

“Just humor us, Raysh,” Alder said, folding his arms. He must be worried about its effects as well. Clearly, he was way more connected to this ethereal plane than I was.

Raysh huffed, the breath from his black nose stirring the grass at his feet. “Fine. Without a gate to watch over, the guardians obviously cease to be guardians. They revert to normal, yet still powerful, spirits. The gates merely become another place within the ethereal plane. Think about it like a dam. The gate is holding the mana in one concentrated place, so once you open it, the water spreads and evens out.”

The fox lifted his orange and red face to meet my eyes. “You can’t have it both ways, Briony Redwrell. You either remove these barriers preventing your mother from returning, or you leave them as they are and go home.”

I blew out a breath and opened my fist, then dropped the now green-glowing twig into Alder’s outstretched palm.

He enclosed his hand around the key, and green mana—vibrant and varying cool shades of color—wrapped around his fingers and wrists.

The astral energy grew brighter and brighter until a flash of green light went off within his closed fist.

Alder and I both leaned in to look at the “key.”

Laying in the center of my palm was not a twig, but an acorn.

“It—it changed,” I stammered.

“Unsurprising. The key takes on whatever form it needs to join with the element of its source.”

Alder looked from Raysh to the acorn. “He’s right. It changed to a seed. To plant it into the earth.” He then flicked his fingers and the grass and dirt shifted, moving around to create a small hole in the ground.

“Like I said, handy,” I told him, unable to stop a smile touching my lips.

He grinned in response. Bending down to the newly made hole, he dropped the acorn and moved the dirt over it, packing it flat.

At first, nothing happened.

Then the entire ground…shook.

I got up, wobbly on my feet, and Alder grasped my hand, tugging me closer. The tension radiating off him felt like a second energy.

“Is—is that the earth guardian?” I asked over the sound of the rumbling.

Alder didn’t respond, his gaze directed at the place where I’d just planted the key. Then he looked up—reminding me of a dog who hears a high-pitched sound.

“Shit,” he breathed. “Shit.”

I didn’t even have time to ask what was wrong before another rumble followed. This time, directly from above.

The moment I looked up, lightning bolts of fear struck my limbs.

Rocks tumbled down the mountainside, heading toward us in an avalanche. A rockslide.

It was coming up fast—we’d be buried underneath tons and tons of boulders and forest debris. This wasn’t just any landslide. It was a direct result of the spirit gate opening. But even if it was a normal natural phenomenon, we’d never be able to outrun it.

Still frozen, I barely noticed Alder lift me into his arms. My breath locked in my chest as he ran forward. But where could he run fast enough to escape the shower of earth racing for us at a magical speed?

But he wasn’t running into the forest. He was running into another world.

The slipstream came upon us faster than before. The barrier of mana crashed through me like an ocean wave at the beach. The sensations and the energy almost too much—I felt like I was drowning in it.

For some reason, it faded away faster than before. Was I getting used to it or was that simply because I was in Alder’s arms this time?

As I caught my breath, Alder set me down on a collapsed tree covered with moss and vibrant green ivy wrapping around the trunk in clusters of three tear-shaped leaves. The ivy looked familiar, but my brain was too foggy with magical nature adrenaline to identify the plant properly.

“I’m sorry, Brye, are you okay? Running into the ethereal plane was the only thing I could think of to escape the rockslide.”

“I’m fine,” I rasped, still trying to regulate my breathing. “It was brilliant.”

Except as I said it, my pulse jumped erratically. The mana sparked through my veins like an electrical current. Even with some of Alder’s mana allowing me to pass through the barrier, the full brunt of it had been too much for me.

His hands cradled my neck and, once again, oxygen moved through my lungs, and my pulse slowed to a regulated, normal rhythm.

I lifted my gaze to his as the smell of mint and laurel, the chill of the morning in the mountains, and the taste of chicory ensnared my senses…but there was something else there, too. Beyond the Smokies, there was guilt—a churning, restless feeling.

Alder was sharing more than mana with me. He was sharing a bit of himself, including his emotions.

I didn’t just see the regret in his furrowed brow or downturned lips. I felt it inside.

“Thanks,” I said in a soft exhale.

He drew his hands away, leaving the skin on my neck hot. “No problem.”

Shoving his hands into his khaki shorts, he glanced around. “Where’s Raysh?”

It took me a moment to shed the sensations and feelings that coursed through me—all Alder’s. “Beats me,” I finally said, silently urging my blush to disappear. When the fox spirit didn’t show up for the next minute or so, I started looking around the clearing as well.

“He couldn’t have…gotten crushed in the rockslide, right? I mean, he passes through stuff in the physical world.”

Alder shook his head. “I’m sure he’s fine. Maybe he went to go tell your mother we unlocked the first gate.”

“Right, the earth gate,” I said with a nod. “So what do we have left? There’s earth, water, air, and…”

I hesitated, the next element unwilling to come to my lips. Why hadn’t I thought of it before?

I took so long that Alder said it instead. “Fire.”

Staring down at the forest floor, I saw flames erupt in the brush. Saw them climb and jump and leap up the bark of the trees. Saw the glow of mana flicker and die as the energy was consumed by something greedier.

It was like the ethereal plane, no, maybe just this valley, had triggered something inside of me. It brought me back to that awful day six years ago.

The realization that I would have to face a gate of fire was…all consuming.

The fire in my vision surged upward. Heat licked at my skin and embers flew at my clothes. Amidst the crackling of flames and their hiss and pop, I could’ve sworn I saw another face and heard a voice calling my name. Meanwhile, the scars on my lower back throbbed with pain. It was like someone was clawing at my skin, reopening wounds that had been closed long ago.

I slapped at my shirt and shorts, hoping to put out the embers, but I couldn’t. They grew and grew, and my breath shorted—

Hands grabbed mine, stopping them from beating against my clothes.

“Brye—Briony!”

I blinked to find Alder kneeling before me, clutching my trembling hands. Chest heaving, I hunched over, the pain in my lower back echoing up and down my spine.

“There was fire. In the grass, on the trees, there—” I stopped midsentence as I was able to tell that it wasn’t real. All the plants and trees were alive and well, just as they had been before my vision.

“Fire? Where? What did you see?”

“I…” I swallowed thickly, still trying to get my bearings. Trying to convince myself that there was no fire. No face in the flames. No sinister voice. But the soft whisper of pain through my scars was proof that something had shaken me.

Was this PTSD or something, or an actual spirit haunting me? Why did I keep seeing fire everywhere? “It…it’s nothing.”

“No, Briony, tell me.”

Alder’s jaw was clenched, his eyes hard and level, as if mentally preparing himself for what I was about to say.

I licked my lips, dropping my gaze from his face. “Ever since the fire, I’ve had nightmares. Just smoke and flames and not much more than that. But since I came back here, I had a dream that was an actual memory of the fire, and then in the meadow with my mother there was a wall of flames. It was like it was coming for both of us. And just now, I saw fire in the grass and…” I dropped my head into my hands. “I don’t know if what I’m seeing is real or not. Was that just a vision? Was it all in my head?”

Alder’s hands rested on my shoulders. They were warm, comforting. “This is why I didn’t want you here.”

I looked up, my eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What do you mean?”

He sighed, his gaze searching my face in desperate concern and obvious regret. “I didn’t mention it because I was hoping that you didn’t remember anything about the fire.”

My eyes widened. “Were you there that day? Do you know what happened?”

Alder dropped his head, sighed, then looked back up at me, gaze hooded. “It happened the day after I brought you to the ethereal plane for the first time. You were ten, I was twelve. Just kids. Naive, ignorant kids,” he said, a trace of bitterness in his voice. “I should’ve known better, but I wanted to show you something amazing. I had…no idea what I was getting you into.

“By then, you had more than enough mana to cross over. We’d been playing together for over five years, so you were almost as much a spirit as I was.” His hand raked through his short silver hair. “I should’ve never taken you there, but I…I didn’t know. No one told me…” He paused and closed his eyes, then opened them. “Anyway, I didn’t realize it at the time, but a spirit followed us out of the ethereal plane to the physical world.”

“What? You said spirits can’t—”

“When a spirit tries to travel through the boundary, one that doesn’t possess a physical body like I do, it’s either an emissary that’s able to manifest a projection of itself, or…”

Like Raysh. After he paused far too long, I prompted, “Or?”

He lifted his head fully to look me in the eye again. “Or the spirit’s astral energy takes on a physical form.”

This sounded eerily familiar. I licked my lips. “Which is?”

“Fire.”

I felt like I couldn’t breathe again—even though I could. Better than ever. It wasn’t my asthma and it wasn’t a panic attack, either. I just felt smothered. The sun, sky, mountains, and forest all around us seemed to press down on me and swallow me whole.

“So a spirit did start the fire,” I whispered in a strangled voice, covering my face with my palms.

Alder said nothing. I couldn’t see his face, but I could imagine the tortured look.

Move on, Brye. You’re only confirming what you already suspected.

Reining in my emotions, I dropped my hands and asked, “Do you think the fire gate and this spirit that came for me have anything to do with each other? Or could it just be another spirit turning into flames when it crossed into the physical world?”

Alder suddenly stood, letting out a growl of frustration. “I don’t know. Raysh was right. I don’t know very much at all about the spirit world.” He paced back and forth across the grass. Watching him made me so restless that I had to stand, too. “It’s not like I have spirit parents or even my own emissary teaching me,” he continued. “I was created as a bridge between the worlds, so mana can flow from plane to plane freely. And it’s not like there is a manual for me. I’m not as old as Raysh. I live and die like a human.”

He said all this in a rush of breath, frustrated, tortured, and even bitter. Not that I could blame him.

I couldn’t imagine being the only one of my kind, trapped between worlds, a part of both but belonging in neither. It seemed impossibly, incredibly lonely.

Breathing hard, he turned back and crossed to me, meeting my eyes with a forlorn stare. “Honestly, Brye, do you think if I’d known all this was possible—that you could absorb my mana and be chased by a spirit—that I would’ve let any of this happen to you?”

Standing so close, I could feel his mana radiating off him. The essence of the Smokies…the world’s best aftershave. I hated to admit it, but it was distractingly intoxicating.

But I managed to concentrate on his words and hear the pain. The regret. It was real and unquestionable. “I believe you.”

At that, Alder’s shoulders relaxed slightly, as if a weight had just been lifted.

“But I’m not going to stop searching for answers,” I said. “I think Mom knows something. I think the same spirit that was after me might have her.”

Alder nodded, his expression transforming into one of anger. “Then we’ll get her back, and we’ll get the spirit that went after you.”

A rush of relief swept through me. It was nice to know that he was truly on my side while we went after the rest of these gates. One down at least.

But it was still just one. The solstice was three days away and I had two days left. Hopefully, the other gates didn’t take longer than a day. Izzie would have a conniption if I was gone so long that…

I gasped, reeling back. “Shit! Izzie!”

Alder blinked. “Who?”

“My friend—my friend is with my grandmother. I’ve been gone for way too long. She’s gonna freak. And I left her car back on Hummingbird Road. Crap.”

“I can show you a shortcut through the ethereal world.”

Following Alder through the mystical glowing forest seemed completely normal to me now. After only a day in the mana-charged woods with strange noises and strange creatures darting in and out of the underbrush, I was already used to it.

It even felt somewhat…comfortable to me?

Or maybe it was just because Alder and I were walking side by side. He felt like this enormous presence beside me—and it was hard to concentrate on anything but him. I barely noticed the growing itchiness along the back of my calves and along my wrists. It was such a normal sensation to me, thanks to my constantly chlorinated skin, that I didn’t think much of it. Probably just a few mosquito bites from last night’s escapades, traipsing through the woods without decent insect repellent.

Finally, Alder came to a stop by a brook with crystal clear water flowing with blue mana weaving in and out a small but swift current. Smaller Carolina willows dotted the opposite shore, their leaves gently fluttering in the breeze. “This is it. Stand close, okay?”

As I moved into his side and Alder drew an arm around my shoulders, I couldn’t stop the rush of heat to my cheeks and neck. He, of course, gave absolutely no indication that this was the least bit flustering.

At once, wind picked up around us, turning and turning into a mini tornado that stretched into the impossibly blue sky. Water from the brook and rogue willow leaves joined the tornado and then—just like that—vanished.

Back in the physical plane it had gotten darker. The sun had dipped below the mountains, fading into the western horizon beginning its surrender to the night sky.

Wisps flitted around us, pulsing in various degrees of brightness and color in harmonious synchronization. Their glow illuminated the forest, and I recognized my old house and Izzie’s car through the gaps in the grove of tulip trees Alder had grown. Eager to head back, I took one step forward.

And promptly collapsed.