The Wishing Tree - Book Two [Completed]

Soul Deep - Part 27

Riven and I are walking beside each other, keeping watch for animals or people or anything else sinister on this realm that might now be hunting us. We're walking through grassy plains that reach up to our waist and make our pace slower than normal. We've had some close calls, and none of us is keen to have another before we connect with Violet. 

We aren't running because Mason claims that he needs time to think some things through before we meet with Violet, and I wonder whether the long grass is just too dangerous. He's ahead of me, chatting with Clara and Rocco, flipping a sharp stick in his hand as he walks. He looks relaxed, but every once in a while when I catch a glimpse of his profile, I see his tiredness. I wonder if I also look that exhausted. I think about seeing Ryan last night, the aging, both external and in his soul. The slow leak of his power doesn't seem so minute when I'm faced with the reality.

Riven is hacking the grass down with a machete-like knife as we walk. He seems almost as lost in thought as I do, and I wonder what's going on in his head. While Mason is convinced that they'd all give up their life for me, it seems like a big sacrifice for someone they don't know that well.

"I know I won the bet, back at your colony. But, you didn't have to come with us; you don't have to stay. I think it's going to get pretty dangerous, even more than it is now. I know why Clara is here; she doesn't feel she has a choice. But you and Rocco? You do." I watch his brown face for some sign of relief, an acknowledgment that he doesn't want to be on this journey anymore.

He hacks away at more long grass before he speaks. "Rocco and I didn't have to come, you're right. But, we were curious. We wanted to know how you'd tamed the beast." He motions to Mason ahead and laughs. He has a lightness in him that Rocco doesn't possess. "Vengeance, revenge, torture, death, those were all he was known for in this realm. He took no prisoners; he showed no mercy. For centrums he's made deals, but only if they benefited him, and he only kept his word if it suited him. He's a legend." He pulls his knife up and the dullness of the steel makes me miss the sun. "Change is afoot. Who doesn't want to believe their soul can have a place in history?"

"You think we're making history?"

"We're always making history; it's just that some history is remembered better than others." He grins at me and his white teeth seem out of place in the grayness of the day.

"Why do you think he's changed so much? I barely knew him on the Second Realm, but he didn't seem so bad, a little sad, maybe."

He doesn't answer for a long time, and I wonder whether I've tried to probe too deep. He slips the machete over his back into the satchel, as though he's done it hundreds of times, and then pulls out a sword instead. The grass around us is becoming sparser, and the walking is a little smoother.

"I don't know what makes a man like him change." He looks up at the sky and into the trees that are coming towards us, a thicket off to the right. "But, I know what he was like when you were on the verge of death. He was worried you'd turn out like the story of the sleeping corpse."

"The story of the sleeping corpse?"

He laughs. "I always forget that you don't remember any of the customs or stories on this realm. The sleeping corpse – cursed by the evil Lady of the Realm through a poisoned fruit, carried by her comrades for months, and then eaten in a dimchik attack."

"That's a terrible story." There's something niggling in my brain as I process it and then I remember. The story is oddly similar to one on both the Second and Third Realm. On the Second it's called Snow White, and on the Third, the Indomitable Woman frees herself from the evil ruler's curse by sheer force of will. I wonder whether these similar stories are further evidence of half-remembered lives. "What'd he think would happen if I was eaten?" I asked.