56
SHAPES OF LIGHT
PART II
🙜
A green spark of intrigue darted across their linked hands.
What do you mean by th—
A tangled root burst up from the cracking earth in a cloud of dust and snow, and Ember let out a shout of surprise. Tendrils sprouted from its gnarled burls, and clods of dirt and shattered leaves shook loose as it arched overhead, sheltering them from the eyes of the stars.
Ky sensed Ember’s anxious intent before he ducked away. She tightened her grip on his hand, standing fast, and held her splintering focus on the dusky song of the roots and hidden things beneath, slowly lifting a faint chord above it—the hymn of all things bright and green.
Layering melodies had never been her strength; the effort strained her throat, threatening to shatter her song into silence.
A ghostly screech and a shiver of wind turned the hymn to ash upon her tongue even as a bower of roots and gnarled branches reached for the clouds like the ribcage of some long-buried beast. Ky was prepared to drag Ember forth, but he must have felt it within her mind, for he darted ahead, stumbling over root and bough and yanking her along behind him.
It was easy for Ky to keep her footing, for she knew the song she had spun… down, down, it spiraled, and the earthy ribs closed above them in a tangle of thorn and woody stems and a hundred leafy buds.
She turned to look—
And was met with a wide-open mouth and glistening fangs.
“Noooaarrhhh—!” Ember let out a shout of strangled desperation as they each threw themselves headlong into the embrace of the earth.
Sil uttered one last, desperate shriek, taloned fingers curling as she shoved past the furling leaves—
And then her voice and the cry of the storm were muffled, and the only sounds that could be heard were the creaking and rustling of the roots and thorny brambles as they wove tightly above them, finding places to fit and mold as they continued to branch overhead.
They lay together, panting in total darkness, cocooned in a bed of rustling vines.
As her breaths slowed and her vision adjusted to the sudden change in atmosphere, she noticed that the golden thread of light which had led her to Ember was now tangled around them both. And her pale arms had pulled Ember’s head to her breast.
Ky sank down into the living floor, dazed and bewildered.
Can you still hear my thoughts?
It was a hesitant inquiry, tinted by soft blue notes of surprise and secret delight.
Ky trailed her fingers through his curls before she understood what she was doing, and froze.
…No.
A splash of amusement followed swiftly. But before her embarrassment could fully manifest, a ripple of fear upset the colors of his mind—hues of fury and crimson, of claws and feral siren teeth snapping through the brambles. Ky tightened her grip on Ember, humming serenely.
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“I sang for many thorns to shelter us,” she assured him in a hush.
The vines rustled and stirred more tightly around them at the touch of her voice.
As they lay entwined within the coolness of the earth, she felt his mind drifting back toward the day which they had entered the mountain’s door. She did not like where those thoughts were straying.
Ky retreated into herself as best she could, resolved not to dwell upon anything she did not want Ember to know. And since that was everything, she found it easiest to fill her thoughts with him, though he would sense that she had never wished to push him away, only—no, must not think. She knew only his closeness, his softness, the intake of his breath…
This is nice, he confessed effortlessly, his rough, dry fingers finding hers in the darkness. Is your sister gone, then—forever?
Here, you will be safe. Only, you must never fly from this nest, or Sil may find you again. I fear that my song can no longer shield your mind in dreams…
She hadn’t meant to admit her own weakness, but it sparked through their connection before she could dampen it. He clasped her hand with a timidity, and she felt him waiting for her to wound him again. The great light of his soul that was cast out before him sheltered a fragile core, recently broken twice over, and she dared not shatter it for a third.
She moved away from the thought quickly, but he seemed not to have noticed, lost in the ebb and flow of his own fancies. Before you made this place for us, I was desperate to awaken—but now I think I could be happy dreaming forever, as long as you were beside me…
Those silly words took her back to the garden—then, when he had spoken as much, she had thought them wishful and of not much significance.
But perhaps her human companion could truly be ‘content’ anywhere.
Forever.
It was a startling notion to one who was satisfied with nothing.
Then rest here, Ky relented weakly.
An hour’s respite was the very least she could provide, all she could offer him, after—
His mind pressed into hers, and Ky fought against it, impressing the notion that if he were to delve too enthusiastically she would physically shove him away.
Why are your thoughts so dark?
He wrapped his arms around her waist, and sighed, sinking deeper into an embrace that she had never intended to give, never wanted to give, and found disturbingly enjoyable. She felt him smile at the unspoken thought.
But there was a sadness under it.
She was the cause of both the smile, and the sadness.
Because… that which I am wanting is never mine to keep.
But this is still my dream, Ember said, a challenge bristling under the words; she felt herself reclining into his insistence, as if it were a comfort. And now that you’re really here, I want you to stay.
I am not knowing how to leave, Ky confessed. I am never dreaming before… so, I suppose I must stay until you return to wakefulness.
If we can be like this a little longer, I don’t mind. Do you?
She felt the warmth of his affections fall upon her. It was soft and a little bit sad, like the sweetness of dappled sunlight in the salty shallows, those sheltered coves where the ocean nudged the shore and deciduous boughs reached toward the open air, little leaves dancing on the waves.
He, too, wanted a thing which he could never have.
Maybe we can just want, together…
Ky found she did not know which one of them had thought it.
She twirled a strand of his hair around her finger, and he snuggled closer. Love lilted from the song of his soul in hues of gold like gentle laughter, even as a deep and crimson hurt poured out like blood. It was effortless and rhythmic, more like the way he breathed than the manner in which he spoke aloud.
But Ky could return to him none of it; instead, she forced all dangerous thoughts from her waking mind, and sat in the inky ache of silence.
She who dared neither laugh nor bleed.