Page 108 of Wild Reverence

LXXXIII

Confessions

VINCENT

The trees were nearly bare, their shed leaves gold and crimson on the grass, and the nights were starry and crisp when Nathaniel paid me an unexpected visit at the cottage.

I was in the garden again, kneeling by a patch of kale, when he arrived, windblown and wide-eyed. In his hand was a piece of parchment.

It was late afternoon, but the wind was howling from the east, and it smelled like rain.

“Vince!” he said, and his smile was broad, revealing the gaps in his teeth. “You will not believe what is in my hand.”

“It looks like paper.” I brushed the soil from my knees and rose. Reeve whined, and I let him loose into the pasture, to tend to the sheep.

“Yes. A letter for you.”

“I can see that. From whom?”

“Best come inside and sit down.” Nathaniel took me by the elbow and hauled me across the flagstones. I thought his behavior strange, and when I saw Edric pacing by the front door and Anton standing with the horses, my worries grew tenfold.

I dug my heels into the ground. “What is the meaning of this? Why are you all here?”

“Are you not pleased to see us?” Edric asked, looking wounded.

Anton only snorted.

“Of course I am,” I snapped. “But the three of you have never come at one time like an ambush.”

An awkward lull struck our gathering. Nathaniel cleared his throat and hauled me into the house, right to my favorite chair by the hearth.

“Sit,” he commanded. “Do you need something to eat? To drink? Should I toss another log on the fire?”

“No. Why are you fussing over me?”

“Well, because of this letter.”

“Yes, I can see it. Who is it from?”

“Before I hand it to you,” Nathaniel said, holding the limp parchment in the air, “do you want to know where it was found?”

I heaved a sigh. “Where?”

“In that haunted bedchamber of Maiden Tower. You know the very one? The room no one wants to sleep in because of the drafts, and the noises, and that wardrobe with the broken doors, and how the firelight acts on its own accord? This letter was lying in the middle of the floor. No one knows how it got there, or how long it was waiting for you there, and for that, I am deeply sorry, Vince. If I had known, I would have brought it to you instantly. Oh, and that is the other thing. There was no address on the outside, and so a few of us read it, and realized that this was for you, and she had written it for you, and we—”

My mind sharpened.

“ She? ” I said. “Whom are you speaking of?”

But as Nathaniel lowered the parchment down for me to take, I knew.

My mouth went dry. My heart pounded.

“Will you please give me a moment?” I whispered, taking the paper in my hand.

“Of course. The three of us will be outside, waiting.”

I nodded, watching my brother stride across the room. Once I was alone, I swallowed and unfolded the parchment.

Dear Vincent,

If these words reach you, then I have done the impossible.

Do you remember how you once challenged me to write to you when I was away?

You wanted to hear from me, and I thought there was no magic deep enough, no magic bright enough to bear my words across realms. I had never tried, but I never had a reason to before now.

I know time has been steadily passing in the mortal world.

And I can only wonder where you are now, and where your life has guided you since I last saw you in the woods.

Since the snow fell and you held me in your arms. Part of me is desperate to return to that night, to rewrite it.

The decisions I would have made differently, in hopes that I would find a path that did not sever me from you.

But I think… I think our story was always meant to be as it was.

I make these confessions, fully aware that you might have found another to spend your days as well as your nights with.

I would never fault you for this happiness.

I also must speak of a child, a boy with eyes that reminded me of yours, that came to the gate.

He said your name. I could not help wondering if he was your son as I carried him back to the mortal realm.

There are moments when I think I will return as soon as I can.

That I will remember my body as if I had only been torn from it yesterday, and I will knock upon your door, and it will be as if no time has come between us at all.

But perhaps this is only a dream. And I think it safest for me to stay away.

I do not desire to cause you any more grief or pain, but if you will wait for me, when the leaves fall and the nights grow longer, I will come to you, and we may speak again, face-to-face.

Yours,

Matilda

I waited for her return like the stars wait for the sun to set.

I watched autumn give way to a dark winter. The ice was thick that year and the snow came early and melted late. I slept by the fire, and I dreamt of her, even without the owl’s visits.

Winter sighed into spring, my seventh without her, and the storms were harsh, the mud relentless. But then came summer and it was mild and beautiful. The honey flowed generous from the comb, and the garden fruits burst from the vines, and I learned how to weave on Lara’s loom.

Summer, at last, finally gave way to autumn.

I waited, each sunrise stealing my breath.

And then one rainy night, in the darkest, coldest hour before dawn, a knock sounded upon my door.