High Queen Elandra's Arc

Chapter 10 of 15

The vines lead her out of the crypt and across broken ground. Elandra follows the black path they carve through dirt and stone, thorned tendrils spreading like veins toward something she cannot see. The woman and the stranger walk behind her without speaking. The orchid's glow fades as they move farther from the crypt, but the vines grow thicker, deeper, until they reach water. The Silver Serenity Pond stretches before them, its surface still and dark. The vines plunge beneath the surface and vanish. Elandra kneels at the water's edge. The pond reflects nothing at first—no moon, no stars, no faces. Then the water shifts. A child's face appears in the depths, pale and clear, with eyes the color of ice. The face is not hers. It is not Aria's. It is no one she has ever seen in two thousand years of searching. The woman steps forward and kneels beside her. "The spell shows you what could be," she says quietly. "Not what was." Elandra stares at the face. The child's features are sharp and unfamiliar, but the eyes hold something she recognizes—the stranger's gaze, steady and unwavering. The stranger moves to her other side and crouches near the water. He reaches into the pond and pulls out a goblet she did not see before. Water streams from its carved surface, revealing etchings of vines and faces intertwined. Inside the cup, the child's reflection remains, impossibly clear. Elandra takes the goblet from his hands. The face does not fade. The woman speaks again. "The vines followed your spell because it was never yours alone," she says. "Blood willing to trust you—that was the missing piece. Mine carries Aria's line. His carries your choice. The child needs both." Elandra sets the goblet on the ground between them. She looks at the woman who carries Aria's blood, then at the stranger she chose to trust. The vines curl around the goblet's base, black thorns framing the child's face in the water. She does not know this child. She does not know if the spell will work or if the price will break something she cannot repair. But the face in the water is real enough to risk for. She picks up the goblet again and stands. "We finish the spell," she says. The woman nods. The stranger says nothing, but he does not move away. Elandra turns back toward the crypt, the goblet in her hands, the vines trailing behind her like a path she can finally see.