Shadows in the Trees: Book 1

Chapter 35

Damon stared at the woman sitting in the other armchair, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. It was Queen Cordelia, his mother, exactly as he remembered her, her tight curls falling past her shoulders, her warm brown eyes, the crow's feet at the corners of her eyes. She seemed alert, healthy, unlike the pale, feverish state she had been in when she died. Though he missed her every day, he had been able to box away the pain over the years so that he could continue to function. Looking at her now, he felt those boxes shattering. 

The woman paused in her conversation with his father. "Damon, love, what is wrong?" 

"What is wrong?" Damon sputtered. "What is wrong? You're dead! You've been dead, for years now! You're not . . . this isn't possible. It's a trick, or . . . I don't know." The woman looked down. His father reached to take her hand, his face more open and tender than Damon had seen in years. 

"I know it is hard to accept, but it really is your mother. It was difficult for me to believe at first, but Damon, I know your mother. I know her, and this is not a trick," the king said. He smiled at his wife, his eyes shining, and she smiled back. "It's really her." 

"But how?" Damon said. He felt tears slip down his cheeks. He wanted to believe him, but it was too good to be true, and he couldn't lose his mother again. "The One God has never resurrected anyone in living memory. And why now? Why Mother?" His parents exchanged a glance again. 

"This was not the One God's doing," Wilhelm said. Damon felt the blood drain from his face. 

"What do you mean? Who else would have the power to . . . "

Wilhelm sighed. "Have you ever heard of Sylph, my boy?" 

Damon blinked. "They are monsters. From bedtime stories Mother used to tell us. They are long dead." 

"I thought so as well. Until one was standing in my office one night," the king said. "And it told me -- it told me that it could bring her back. I didn't believe it, at first. I wanted nothing to do with it. But it kept coming back, every night, until one night, I gave in. I just -- I just missed your mother so much. It took me to her grave, and we dug her up, and -- I do not know how to describe it, but there was a light, and then your mother climbed out from her casket, as radiant as ever." 

"It was like waking from a deep sleep," his mother said. "I was rather frightened to see such a creature standing over me, but your father helped me out of the hole, and then I was here, feeling the air on my skin. I owe it everything for bringing me back to you," she said, caressing his father's face. 

Damon felt as though he couldn't breathe. "This is . . . this is black magic. This is unnatural. This is against the One --"

"Does it matter?" his father raged, releasing her hand and standing. "Don't you want your mother back?" 

"At what cost?" Damon cried, rising from his chair to stand toe to toe with his father. "What about the good of Elohine?" 

"Your mother and I are the best rulers Elohine has ever had!" he roared, spittle gathering at the corners of his mouth. "With her back, we can finish what we started. We can --"

"Boys!" Cordelia cried, coming to stand between them. "Stop this. What's done is done. I am here now; we are a family again." Her eyes filled with tears. "Can we at least enjoy that?" 

Damon gaped, breathing hard. He looked at his mother. He reached out and touched her face. She was warm, her skin was soft. She was solid. He put his hand on the side of her neck. He could feel her heartbeat, strong and steady. 

"Mother?" he said. She smiled and nodded, her tears falling down her cheeks. "Mother," he said, reaching for her. She pulled him into her arms, and they cried. He was taller than her now, too tall to rest his head on her shoulder, so she rested her head on his shoulder instead. She stroked his hair, telling him it was alright, and that she loved him. 

Finally, she pulled away, keeping her hands on his arms. Damon stared at her in disbelief, joy blooming in his chest. 

"You've grown so much," she said with a sad smile. "Tomorrow, we'll have to catch up. I want to know everything. But love, I must go to sleep, I'm exhausted." Damon laughed. His mother had always been early to bed, early to rise. He nodded. 

"Of course. Goodnight, Mother," he said, shaking his head. He couldn't believe he was saying goodnight to her again. She smiled.

"I suppose I can sleep in our room now," she laughed, looking back at Wilhelm. He smiled ruefully. 

"I'll be there soon," Wilhelm said. 

Cordelia laughed. "We both know that's not true." Wilhelm smiled, looking at her even after she closed the door behind him with a soft smile on his face. 

"Father," Damon said. "You're sure it's her? Really her?" 

He sighed. "I watched her rise from the grave myself. And I have been testing her with the past, asking her things she should know. It's really her." 

"When were you going to tell me?" 

Wilhelm grimaced. "I didn't know how." 

"How are we going to tell Elohine?" 

"I don't know," Wilhelm said flatly. Damon's stomach turned. He had never heard his father say those words. 

"And Julian? She doesn't know?" Damon said. 

"She knows," his father said sharply. 

"She just doesn't know you sent him," Damon said, narrowing his eyes. 

"No," Wilhelm said. "And it will stay that way." 

Damon exhaled sharply and paced to the window. His people would be hard pressed to accept an undead queen, let alone a queen that was brought back from the house of the One God by a Sylph. 

"What does the Sylph want? In return?" Damon asked. He heard his father walk to the window behind him, coming to his side. 

"It said it wanted our armies, when it needed them," Wilhelm said, crossing his arms. 

"That's all?" Damon asked. Armies for a resurrection seemed an unfair trade. But perhaps not for a powerful creature such as a Sylph. 

"That was the agreement." 

"What does it need the armies for?" 

"It wouldn't say. Revenge of some sort, from what I have gathered of its past." 

Damon nodded. "And you trust it?" 

His father laughed. "By the One God, no. Do you think so lowly of me, my son?" 

Damon looked at his father, then looked back at the window. He stayed silent, looking over his home with fear in his heart.