Page 25 of Between Broomsticks and Beating Wings (Love X Magic #3)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

A STEP INTO THE ENDLESS VOID

Rune

T here was always something so disturbing about hearing nothing but your own endless stream of consciousness.

All sensation was lost to me the moment I stepped through the gate into the void beyond.

The contact my ass made with the saddle beneath me was of no consequence, and I could no longer hear Kari’s nervous inhales.

The void was much like the mist—a warning, but I’d pushed through it before, and I knew the scariest thing about this place was what you allowed your mind to tell you.

Kari was too stubborn to turn back. She could have been losing her mind to the darkness, but I fully intended to see her beside me, holding Apple’s reins as we emerged on the other end.

If she could easily block out Asgard’s whispers, she was more than capable of not letting this illusion dissuade her.

One more step, and I was squinting from the sudden blast of light assaulting my eyes. A flood of sound filled my ears, and the familiar feel of Apple beneath me greeted my body. Before I took in my surroundings, I glanced down to where Kari should have been standing.

“Seeress?” I asked, tugging on Apple’s reins hanging limply on the left side of her neck. Rustling leaves weren’t the only thing I heard, the sound of my own beating heart growing louder.

“Over here!” Kari said, waving her hands above her head from where she sat on a boulder in the distance.

“It took you long enough.” She stood, dusting her black skirts off and stretching her legs as if she’d been sitting upon that rock for ages.

She held a stick in her hands, the bark half peeled off.

“Took me long enough?” I asked. “It’s only been a few moments.”

“Moments?” Kari barked. “It’s been far longer. I thought you abandoned me here.”

My blood ran cold.

My brain racked with all the possibilities for why we would’ve travelled at different speeds. The only thing I could think of was her ability to be seemingly immune to the whispers. Maybe I had been crossing through the gate far longer than I even realized.

“Why did you let go of Epli’s reins?” I asked.

“I hadn’t meant to. When I appeared in the light, I looked down, and they were no longer in my hand. I guess I dropped them when I could no longer feel them on my skin,” she said. “Has it really only been moments for you?”

I gave a slow nod, looking her over as she tried to swallow her annoyance. She’d thought I’d abandoned her, and she’d been here for who knew how long, waiting for me to arrive, not sure if I ever would. We were both lucky she hadn’t given up on me and decided to take this path alone.

“I didn’t abandon you.” She knew this already, but I wanted her to hear it from my lips in case seeing me wasn’t enough. She blew out a breath, and her shoulders relaxed as she dropped the twig in her hands.

“Alright then.” She straightened her posture and wrapped herself tighter in her shawl, the ends oddly tucked into her leather belt. “We should get going. I’m not sure what time it is anymore, but I’d imagine the sun will be setting soon, and we have a gate to get to.”

I glanced up; no sun or moon hung in the lavender sky of the path between realms.

“This way,” I said, pointing with my chin to the flattened ground littered with crispy brown samaras.

Kari scooped up a handful of the seeds, tossing them into the air and watching as they all twirled toward the ground like a disoriented flock of finches.

The laugh that slipped through her defenses reminded me so much of the woman I’d thought I’d known.

I always loved her fascination with nature's simple treasures that I often overlooked. Over the years of death-filled nights on Midgard, I’d begun to lose connection to anything that wasn’t strapped in armor.

As we walked, I couldn’t help but watch her.

She knew nothing of this place, but she looked at home within this path carved through Yggdrasil.

I wasn’t sure if it was because of her curse, or because being in a forest again reminded her of Stormheim.

Either way, I had to keep my eye on her to ensure she wasn’t getting too comfortable in this place.

We walked in relative silence for what felt like half the day, but it was hard to say without the sun to indicate how much time had passed.

A yawn tugged at Kari’s lips, and Apple’s strides began to slow.

I was growing weary too, and my stomach screamed at me for food.

We’d never stopped for lunch, though I’d seen Kari chewing on something after digging around her pockets.

She’d either been taking a chance on something she found along the path, or áma had given her something for the road. I hoped it was the latter.

Up ahead, I spotted a freshly fallen branch thick enough for us both to sit on. It looked like Tove had the same idea, sprinting forward to claim a spot before we could. I swear to the gods, if Kari banished me to the forest floor because of him, I wouldn’t give him fresh fish for a week.

“I guess we’re stopping for a bit,” Kari said as she watched Tove claim the very end of the branch where it split off into smaller ones.

“We need to eat and make a camp for the night,” I said.

Kari looked around. “Here?”

“If you’re looking for a plush bed, you’re not going to find one,” I said, my words coming out too sharp from fatigue.

“No, it’s just… I thought we’d find somewhere with more coverage.” Kari glanced at the fallen log, then out into the hazy wooded distance.

“It’s best to stay clear of the grooves and crevices within the tree. They’ve already been claimed.”

“Right. Monsters. How could I forget,” she said. “Um, listen…” she trailed off, her hand finding her stomach.

Before she could say anything, I created two meals.

Instead of giving her a bowl of barley porridge, I created two of what I was craving: nettle soup, a couple of pieces of flatbread, and a large portion of berries to finish with something sweet.

The bowls sat upon the log for us, and as we approached, Kari licked her lips hungrily.

She walked slowly toward it, as if she may scare it off if she approached it too desperately.

When she finally stood above it, she stared at me, asking for silent permission.

I dismounted Apple, summoning a bucket of water and a stack of hay as I patted her on the rear.

She snuffed and snorted, and I placed an apple on top of the hay with a small smile.

She more than deserved a treat for the work she put in today.

Apple wasn’t used to having anyone other than me on her back, and the fact that she hadn’t thrown Kari off earlier was a testament of her trust in me.

“It’s not an accident, and I’m not going to take it away from you,” I said.

Her eyes lit up, and she descended upon the bowl of soup as if she’d been starved for weeks.

Guilt flickered through me as I watched the way she slurped it down with little worry for its temperature.

As satisfying as depriving her of variety in her food had been at the beginning of the week, I’d begun to wonder if what I was doing was the right move.

I did want her to enjoy my company eventually, and all we’d done was sour the blood between us.

I took a seat upon the log next to her, and my back slumped, my elbows resting on my knees. As she shoved a piece of flatbread into her mouth, her eyes met mine, and she moaned a “thank you”. I chuckled in response and said nothing as I popped a berry into my mouth.

When the two of us were finished with our meals, Kari leaned back on the log, stretching out her belly. She glanced at me nervously under thick auburn lashes and said, “I don’t want to push my good fortune with you…but I would love some tea. Do you mind?—”

“What kind, seeress?” I said, cutting her off.

She bit her lip and put some thought into my question. A smile lifted the corner of her lips, and she finally uttered, “Lavender chamomile?”

My fingers tingled, and two cups appeared, one in each hand. I offered her one of them, and she took it gratefully.

“Hopefully, this will help us both sleep. It’s been a long day.” I glanced around at the log and the fallen leaves surrounding it, wondering where the best spot to retire for the night was.

Kari simply nodded as she took a sip. Tove trotted over from the other end of the log and found a nice, warm spot in Kari’s lap. She mindlessly stroked him as she enjoyed her tea and stared off into the lavender sky.

“How come the sun hasn’t set yet?” she asked.

“There’s no sun here, no moon,” I admitted. “There’s nothing to rise or set, but the sky will turn a deeper purple as the tree goes to sleep and its energy dims.”

“Once it dims, will we be able to have a fire to keep us warm while we sleep? Or do we need to worry about what the flames might attract?”

“We’ll have a fire tonight, but as we get closer to the next gate, we’ll have to go without.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, we’re on the right side of Yggdrasil.”

“Dammit. Why didn’t I think about that?” she murmured. “I suppose as we get closer to Muspelheim, it’s best if we don’t lure demons and fire giants from their realm.”

I offered her a weak grin. “We’ll still need to worry about one fire giant in particular, but let’s get past Midgard and its serpent before we start stressing over the creatures who guard the gates of the other realms.”

“Deal.”

“Speaking of…” I trailed off. My eyes focused on the ground in front of me for a moment before I glanced back up at her.

“Speaking of what? Deals?” she asked, and I slowly nodded as I assessed her. “You want to make one with me?”

“I do.”

“I don’t have much to offer,” she said, glancing down at her borrowed clothes and the pack resting against the side of her calf.