The Will and the Wilds(45)

Maekallus stumbles as though the extra piece of my soul struck him. He grabs my bandaged hand for balance. Almost instantly his skin clears, even the burns.

I don’t feel any different, save for the sadness blooming in my gut like a poisonous flower. I squeeze his hand. He looks at me, and my mouth falls open.

“Maekallus”—his name is half breath—“your . . . eyes.”

Their harsh yellow pigment has given way to warm amber. Not a common color by any stretch of the imagination, but a passable one, for a mortal. I marvel at them, at the humanness of that hue. Again my grandmother’s voice surfaces in my mind: What is a soul if not an extension of the heart?

My lips part. Am I giving Maekallus a human heart, too?

“What—” he begins, but he’s interrupted, and not by me.

“Enna?”

I’m so startled to hear the familiar voice I nearly collapse where I stand. Whirling around, I see Tennith coming through the trees. He’s in his hunting leathers, but carries no game.

I glance back to Maekallus, then to Tennith, choking on my own breath. To be seen here, with a mysting, and in such a compromising position. Dear gods above, whom will he tell? Maekallus’s eyes may be passable, but that horn gives him away! My father and I will be cast out completely, and I will be lucky if that’s the only consequence—

The lack of judgment in Tennith’s features confuses me, even as my pulse races faster than a mountain-fed brook. His countenance is gentle, concerned.

He pauses. “You look so pale. I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to follow you. But I saw you go into the wildwood, and I’ve been meaning to speak with you.”

Words fail me. Tennith’s eyes only watch me, not Maekallus. He does, however, glance to my basket.

“Hmm.” Maekallus puts his hands on his hips. “At least that part still works.”

Tennith doesn’t seem to hear him. To see him. “Enna?”

The instant he says my name, I remember the first thing Maekallus ever said to me. You can see me?

Breath rushes out of me all at once. Relief has never tasted sweeter. Somehow, Maekallus is hiding himself from Tennith’s eyes. The Will Stone must have prevented Maekallus from remaining invisible the day we met. He had never meant to interact with me, only sate his curiosity, but his spell hadn’t held against my charm.

“I-I’m sorry. Yes, you startled me.” My heart is beating so quickly, perhaps I’ll faint after all.

Tennith again glances to my basket. “Where are you going?”

I say the first thing that jumps to mind. “My grandmother’s.”

To my relief, he nods.

Maekallus steps around me, studying Tennith like he’s some bizarre mortal creature. “Who is this?”

I don’t answer him, of course. Tennith may not be able to hear Maekallus’s voice, but he’ll certainly hear mine. I try very hard to keep my eyes on Tennith.

He takes another step into the small glade. Runs a gloved hand down the leather over his arm. “Enna, I feel like . . . you’ve been avoiding me. I haven’t seen you in town.”

“I don’t frequent town.”

“That’s . . . true. I visited your father yesterday. He couldn’t remember where you’d gone.”

“Tubers.” I answer too quickly and try not to wince at the obviousness of it. Maekallus notices, however, and laughs. “I was . . . hunting tubers. Papa’s memory isn’t as sharp as it once was.”

“Forgive me, I shouldn’t pry.”

Maekallus stands directly in front of me. “Seems like he’s prying to me.”

I sidestep to my basket and pick it up, if only so I can see around Maekallus to Tennith’s face.

Tennith sighs. “But we’re here now, and I should be direct.”

Oh gods, no. “Tennith—”

“I’ve been baffled since we kissed.”

Maekallus’s brows shoot up. He glances at me. “Oh?”

I feel blood rising to my face. “Tennith, I—”

“Don’t want to explain yourself, I know. So you’ve said.”

Maekallus steps closer to Tennith, until he’s practically breathing on the man. His horn looms above him like an executioner’s ax. Tennith is a good deal shorter—the length of my hand, at least. “How old is he?” Maekallus asks. “Can he even fill out those breeches?”

I cover my face with my hand, trying to cool the heat beneath my skin.

“I’ve embarrassed you.” Tennith’s tone is apologetic.

I drop my hand and send a scathing look toward Maekallus. “No, no, you deserve to know. But . . .” I swallow my frustration. “I just . . . I truly can’t explain to you right now. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not trying to . . . force . . . you into anything, Enna.” A single, dry chuckle escapes his throat. He rubs his hands together. “I’m not even sure what I want—”

“Oh,” Maekallus chimes in, smirking. “I think I know.”

“—but there was something there that night.”

Even if Maekallus weren’t extremely present for this conversation, making me feel a buffoon, I’m not sure what I would say to the sweet man before me. Honesty is impossible. Granted, there are truths I could share that wouldn’t require me to reveal my entwinement with mystings. I could tell Tennith genuinely that I asked him to kiss me so he would be my first, because I fancied him—but to say such a thing in front of Maekallus . . . The idea makes my gut churn.