Page 38 of The Pactbound Angel (The Soul Mirror Duet #1)

Factoring in Memories

Leaving the marshlands behind us, we entered a forest, though this was no forest I’d ever seen before. The trees were bare and gnarled, twisting into the reddish sky. The dry, dusty wind whipped through the naked branches, causing them to creak and groan. It was disconcerting.

I checked the map and saw this area was labeled the Dead Forest.

Oh, wonderful. That’s not ominous at all.

Ramiren asked Georgina, our resident tour guide, if she knew anything about this place. She confirmed, in no uncertain terms, she did not and said she would rather stick a pipe wrench into her sluice valve than be here.

I didn’t quite understand what she was saying, but the context was clear.

We passed through small, remote villages in the Dead Forest on our way to the mountain pass, to the second mischief hag.

We went into town for supplies, but, noting the hostile stares and the harsh whispers, we left without lingering.

One village had a tiny inn that seemed to double as a local community building, but we did not give into the temptation to stay in town.

Raewyn wanted to until Ramiren explained to her that, if the mischief hag was indeed stealing people, the townsfolk might be tempted to hand us over as an offering to leave their village alone.

Raewyn did not argue much after that.

As we walked, we saw steep hills to the north through the bare branches of the trees with the deep shadows of a mountain range beyond them.

The map marked them as the Jenisaw Mountains, but we knew them as the Quilin Mountains in Laeth.

We’re getting close. Once we reached the mountain pass, we’d turn north.

I prayed that Leraska's directions were accurate.

It was our last night here, at the edge of the forest, before we were to make our way across the plains toward the pass.

Georgina set M.A.L.C.O.L.M. for guard duty, as usual, and everyone said goodnight.

Wiggling out of my chain armor, I rolled my shoulders at the stiffness I always felt at its removal.

My gambeson came next, the padded armor worn under my mail to keep the pinching to a minimum.

Remembering the massage I had given Ramiren not long ago, I wouldn’t complain if he reciprocated sometime.

A sudden wetness between my legs made me roll my eyes, continuing to undress. Oh, for Celestia’s sake, he’s not even here.

When I saw red splotches, I cursed under my breath. Oh . Great. Well, no lessons for a while. With everything going on, it had been the last thing on my mind.

After searching in my pouch for my rags, I poured one of the waterskins into a hammered copper bowl.

I bathed with a bar of soap and cloth before changing into fresh clothing.

The water was frigid, but I was too tired to warm it in our dying fire.

A memory flickered, of Ramiren and his laundry.

Dark underclothes would be handy right about now. Perhaps I’ll ask him where he got them.

After cleaning everything up, and dumping the water behind my tent, I settled down into my bedroll.

This time of the day was both my favorite and the absolute worst. It allowed me the chance to be alone, but my mind enjoyed tormenting me.

The insects outside and the creaking of dead branches swaying in the breeze, at first unsettling, were now a lullaby.

My lids drifted closed, and, or once, my thoughts were blessedly silent.

I was just beginning to drift off when a whisper brushed past my ear.

Oh, no. Not now. I can’t…

I turned my face to groan into my pillow. My foggy brain listened for the words of the whisper, but they did not come. My eyes opened as I lifted my head, straining my ears. Strange. It sounded more like a breath, a gasp, and then silence.

Ramiren?

Another whisper came, this time with muffled and incomplete words.

“...thalia… dang...”

When their meaning finally sank into my muddled consciousness, I sat bolt upright, at once wide awake.

Nathalia. Danger.

Not bothering with my armor, I instead reached for my shield and longsword, unsheathing the weapon in one smooth motion.

After crawling to the opening of my tent.

I listened again but did not hear anything out of the ordinary.

Insects chirped, and dead branches croaked in the wind.

My shield nudged a corner of the tent flap aside to look out.

There was no one wandering around, except M.A.L.C.O.L.M.

, who was struggling against the vines now holding him down.

Exactly like the vines in the Hall of Mirrors.

Fuck, she’s here.

Movement to my left caught my attention. A shadow at the opening of Ramiren’s tent flickered, and a humanoid hand the color of soured milk closed the tent’s door.

My veins flooded with ice water. Was Ramiren the first or last she’d visited? Is my sister still alive? Georgina? I ignored the questions piling up to concentrate on the present. And presently, Ramiren was in danger. Assuming he, too, was still living.

The false protector, the last one left alive… Fear gripped my heart like a clawed hand.

Her strength was unknown. Same with her weapons and abilities, aside from the vines and rifting away in a puff of smoke. All I knew was that Ramiren needed me. Please, Horyn, let him still breathe. That was all I needed.

I burst out of my tent into the eerily still camp and turned toward the enormous tent.

When a soft, muffled cackle caught my attention, my mind went blank.

Darkness clouded my vision. Running straight toward Ramiren’s tent, anger and fear mixed into a heady cocktail.

My lungs had a hard time taking in air. I was just outside the tent when I heard her speak.

The barrier of the tent’s walls couldn’t fully deaden the words.

“Deals are your joy. Never again shall you bargain.”

No!

I charged through the opening to see Ramiren, gagged with vines across his mouth. Those same vines bound his hands behind him as he knelt in front of her. His eyes met mine, and he started speaking, muffled yelling, though I could not make out what he was saying.

I rushed the mischief hag.

Not now. Not him !

“I steal from you your-”

I screamed a wordless battle cry, swinging my sword down, my terror fueling me.

Instead of disappearing, she wailed in surprised agony as my sword bit deeply into her shoulder.

I pulled my sword back, preparing for another strike.

Green blood seeped out from the wound, covering my weapon with a viscous liquid that faintly hissed.

Her spindly fingers went to stem the flow.

I stabbed at her again, straight through her other shoulder.

She spat, wheeling on me, “You bitch of a girl! You ruined it!”

A third slice of my sword hit only the puff of green smoke she’d left behind. Spinning around, searching the tent for her, I sped towards the entrance of the tent and jerked it back to check our camp with my breath coming in winded puffs. But, still, there was no sign of her.

Releasing the tent flap, I hurried back to Ramiren’s side. I fell to my knees, dropping my longsword and shield to remove the vines from Ramiren’s mouth. They slipped down easily, and he graced me with a grateful, tremulous smile.

“Well done,” he whispered.

With a short laugh, filled with fatigued relief, I threw my arms around his neck tightly. My eyes began to sting as tears flooded them, making me blink rapidly. “You’re safe. You’re safe. You’re safe.”

A few seconds later, the rest of the vines dropped and disappeared, and he returned the tight embrace around my waist. His hands rubbed up and down my back, then clutched my nightshirt in his grip, as he steadied his breath.

“How did you-” He stopped himself and just pressed his face firmly into the crook of my neck.

I heard movement outside the tent. Canvas shuffling. So, at least someone else is still alive.

And then a gnome’s cry, “M.A.L.!”

I didn’t care if anyone came in and saw. I pushed my face into the crook of his neck, my special place, and didn’t want to let go.

Beep. “VINES… NOT F-F-FUN. DO NOT… R-R-RECOMMEND.”

M.A.L.C.O.L.M.’s voice was scratchy and obviously damaged.

After inspecting him, Georgina said the conjured vines must have wound themselves into his voice box in an attempt to quiet him.

We all settled around the campfire to talk, but no one spoke for a while.

We all just sat in stony silence, in shock over having been invaded.

Beep. “WHY D-D-DOES… HAG… KEEP PICKING… ON ME.”

Georgina patted M.A.L. on the leg, eyeing me warily. “So, she was here? She tied up M.A.L. again? Why didn’t you wake us, Nathalia?”

“I’m sorry, Georgina. There was no time. She was in Ramiren’s tent. I had to act fast.”

Georgina threw up her hands in disgust. Raewyn stared daggers at the gnome. “If my sister says there wasn’t enough time, then there wasn’t enough time.”

Ramiren nodded in agreement. “I agree. I was seconds from losing a valuable ability, if not my life. She could’ve stolen me away at any time, and I’m not sure why she didn’t.”

“But we could’ve killed her here! Not in her home. Gods know how many traps and tricks she has there!” Georgina yelled.

I scoffed, taken aback. “I wasn’t about to sacrifice-”

“We could’ve had her!” The gnome screamed in my direction, pointing an accusing finger. “But you failed! Again!”

My patience, already splintering, shattered like cheap glass. If she thinks for one second I’d forfeit…

“That. Is. Enough!” I bellowed, causing everyone to startle. Even M.A.L.C.O.L.M. quieted. My yell echoed amongst the dead trees, reverberating weirdly. Raewyn looked around, spooked. Georgina winced. Ramiren straightened, sucking in a short breath.