Chapter 32: The Next Answer

Nirvana… this was the life, I was laying on my side, shoulder heavy with fresh Mender’s root, eyes still puffy and hard to open from crying, but…

I let out a sigh. Bliss.

A soft hand moved through my hair lightly, spreading goosebumps all over me.

“are you doing better Olive?” Emma asked me her breath tickling my ear.

I made a low sound, somewhere between a groan and a hum, and pressed my cheek deeper into her thigh.

A shout cut through the clearing.

I looked up.

Olivander.

He was sprinting toward me full speed, armor half-buckled like he’d thrown it on in a panic, sword already in hand. His face was tight with fear. Behind him came a dozen Grovekeepers, moving fast through the trees with practiced ease. Their boots pounded over roots and dead leaves, and bits of loose mail and buckles clicked as they ran. None of them looked relaxed.

The Iron Fangs had already turned to meet them.

Ingrid stood with her feet planted wide, a massive two-handed hammer resting in both hands like it weighed nothing. Her braid had partly come loose, and there was dirt smeared along one side of her face. Doran stood beside her, broader than any of the Grovekeepers by far. Two swords spun through the air around him, wrapped in a faint blue aura that made their edges blur. They circled him without ever touching his hands, humming softly as they cut through the air. He looked like the center of a storm.

It was obvious we were seconds away from a fight.

I pushed myself off the ground, wincing as my shoulder pulled. The world tilted for a second, then steadied. I stumbled once in the churned-up grass and dirt before breaking into a run straight between them.

“Olivander!”

He caught me in a one-armed embrace hard enough to stop me, but kept his sword raised toward the adventurers.

“You’re...” He stopped when he saw the bandage wrapped around my shoulder. His eyes widened. “You’re hurt!”

“I’m fine, we put Mender’s root on it,” I said, already trying to pull away while he checked the bandage with quick, shaking hands.

“You’re not fine,” he snapped, glaring past me at the adventurers, his grip tightening on his sword.

But I barely heard him, because the Grovekeepers were already moving past us.

“Stop! They saved me and Emma, don’t hurt them!” I yelled.

The Grovekeepers split around us without breaking stride. A few moved left, toward Emma, putting themselves between her and the Iron Fangs. The rest spread out around Ingrid and Doran, boots grinding into the dirt as they closed into a rough circle, blades drawn but not striking. Leaves stirred overhead. No one moved carelessly. The whole clearing felt tight, like the air itself was holding its breath.

Emma spoke from the far side of the ring, her voice small. “There was a Drozebush and some... some...” She looked at me.

“There was a pack of Vulpiquill,” I answered for her. “They killed them and saved our lives.”

One of the Grovekeepers shifted sideways in the circle, and I finally saw his face.

Norman.

Captain Norman stepped forward from the ring, sword in hand.

“Identify yourselves.”

His voice was controlled, but only just. His gaze moved from Ingrid to Doran, weighing them both. It would have looked almost silly if it weren’t so tense, a dozen armed Grovekeepers surrounding a giant man with two flying swords and a short woman holding a hammer twice her size.

“I am Ingrid. This is my husband, Doran. We are the remaining members of the Ironfang Adventuring Party.” a sadness I hadn’t detected before reached her voice.

***

“if you guys fought it on the other side of the mountain, how did you show up here?” Grovekeeper Jen asked.

She was walking a little ahead and to the left, keeping pace with Ingrid and Doran as the group moved through the forest. Her tone was polite, but her hand had not left the pommel of her sword.

“we went through the dungeon,” Doran said.

His swords were back in their scabbards now, though the blue aura still clung to them faintly, like the magic had not fully settled.

“what do you mean through a dungeon?” her brother Eric asked from the other side of the ring.

The Grovekeepers were still spread around us as we walked, only now the circle had shifted from threatening to protective. Norman led at the front with the twins near him. Ingrid and Doran walked a little ahead of us, near the front of the middle. Emma, my brother, and I stayed closer to the center, with Grovekeepers on either side and behind.

They kept talking about the mountain, the dungeon, and how the Iron Fangs had gotten here, but I only caught bits and pieces.

Most of my attention had turned inward.

My head was swimming. Each step made the ache behind my eyes pulse harder, and the sounds around me kept drifting in and out like I was underwater. The trees blurred together if I looked too long. Moss, roots, trunks, shadows. I knew we were moving through the forest, but it felt far away, like I was only borrowing my own body.

Olivander had offered to heal me, but Norman shut it down immediately.

“She’s well enough to walk,” he had said, not even slowing. “Better to have the church heal her properly.”

Rudely, too.

We were making really good time, with the Grovekeepers with us nothing tried to get in our way.

A twig snapped under my boot, and I thought of the Warden and the Sentinel. Two bodies. One mind. Everyone knew that was real, well everyone who actually bothered to learn about magic beast, they wouldn’t call it unnatural. Nobody would say it was a mistake because part of it flew overhead while the rest of it walked the earth. It was simply how that creature was made.

So maybe this wasn’t as impossible as it felt.

Maybe being in two places at once wasn’t proof that something had gone horribly wrong. Maybe it was proof that Lumisiel knew exactly what she was doing.

I was still beneath her sky. Still breathing her air. Still walking through the same woods I’d loved all my life, and the woods were still letting me in.

That was what history was, wasn’t it? Lumisiel guiding people when they needed it. When the kingdoms fought, she gave us the Church so we could stand together. When the demons kept coming, she gave us the Godsworn to hold them back. Then, when even that was no longer enough, she gave us Heroes.

So maybe…

This—was the next answer.

I ducked beneath a low branch and let my fingers brush the bark as I passed. The air smelled like damp earth and crushed leaves. Sap warmed somewhere in the sun. Everything around me felt so ordinary that the thought settled into me easier than it should have.

If Lumisiel wanted demons wiped out without question, then why let me see what I had seen? Why let me meet Indolyn and Splendith, why let me learn the difference between demons and Eclipserans, Why put me in both worlds unless both of them mattered?

No, this had to mean something.

I wasn’t a mistake.

I wasn’t something broken that had slipped through the cracks.

I was part of a plan, part of the plan.

And if Lumisiel had put me in both places, then maybe peace was not some foolish little dream I’d made up by myself. Maybe it was what she wanted. Maybe making peace with the Eclipserans and following Lumisiel’s will were not two different things at all.

Something in my chest loosened. I didn’t realize how tight it had been. Not because I suddenly understood everything, but because I didn’t need to. Lumisiel did.

The trees began to thin.

The path widened just enough for all of us to walk without brushing shoulders, and then—

There she was.

Arbolive.

As if confirming all my thoughts. Her trunk rose into the night like it always had, branches stretching wide, leaves whispering softly against each other like they knew I was coming back.

“I’ll just—” I didn’t finish.

I was already moving.

My steps quickened, then broke into something closer to a run, ignoring the pull in my shoulder, ignoring everything else as I crossed the last stretch of dirt.

I reached her and pressed both hands against the bark.

I leaned forward, wrapping my arms around her trunk, pressing my cheek against the ridges.

“I’m back, and I know what to do now” I whispered.

***

Everyone had finished drinking from their canteens and where getting up from the rest, we were much more relaxed now, this part of the forest is always safe.

I pulled back slowly, brushing my hand along the bark one last time before turning.

I walked over to the pool with the baby guttervine, I wonder how it’s doing. I peered into the pool, it was just beyond the roots, tucked into the hollow where the ground dipped slightly, reflecting the night.

The surface rippled faintly as I knelt, dipping my fingers into the water, cold, clear.

Something moved.

A thin, dark tendril slipped from beneath the surface and wrapped gently around my wrist.

I let out a giggle as the guttervine climbed slowly up my hand, curling between my fingers, pressing against the bandage Ingrid had tied.

There was a faint pull, not strong just… insistent.

I blinked.

“Oh.”

The vine settled, coiled firmly but sofly around my hand like it belonged there.

I turned it slightly, watching the way it adjusted with me.

“hi there,” I murmured as sweetly as I could manage.

Emma stepped closer, cautious. “Is that… safe?”

“I dunno” I mumbled

***

The church doors opened before we even reached them. Light spilled out onto the stone. Inside, Francine was already waiting. “Oh Lumisiel,” she breathed when she saw us. “What happened?”

Olivander said. “She’s hurt, fought some Vulpiquill.” Francine guided me inside, her hands gentle but firm as she led me to a seat.

“Let me see.” I held out my arm. Her eyes lingered on the vine for a moment.

“…Interesting,” she murmured. She worked quickly, her magic soft and controlled as it flowed into the wound. Warmth spread throughout my shoulder and hand, the pain eased. The tightness faded. When she finished, the skin was whole again.

Like nothing had happened.

Almost.

We got in serious trouble. Alaric scolded us for heading into the forest alone. He told Olivander and I that we were to sleep in the church till our parents came back from visiting Drowsend, that he didn’t want us alone.

The room they gave us was one of the side sleeping chambers for the clergy, plain and narrow, built more for usefulness than comfort. The stone walls held the day’s coolness, and the only light came from a little oil lamp hanging from a hook near the door. It made everything gold and soft at the edges, but not warm enough to make the room feel cozy. Just sleepy.

There were four bunkbeds in all, two on each side of the room, with thin mattresses and folded blankets at the foot of each bed. A few hooks were fixed into the walls for robes and satchels. Someone had left a pair of worn slippers tucked neatly beneath one of the lower bunks, and the whole room smelled faintly of wax, linen, and old wood polished so many times it had become part of the air.

Two of the lower bunks were already occupied by clergy, both of them quiet and still, their backs turned, breathing slow and even. That made us have to fit where we could.

Olivander got the lower bunk near the door, probably on purpose. Close enough to block it if I tried anything stupid, which, rude.

Emma took the lower bunk across from him.

Which meant I got the top bunk across from her.

I didn’t hate that.

I climbed up carefully, my shoulder no longer hurting, but I still moved gingerly out of habit. The bed dipped gently beneath me as I lay down, and I nearly sighed from the relief of it. The pillow was simple, the blanket ordinary, but after a night on the ground, that hardly mattered. It was soft, dry, warm, and steady under me, and for the first time in a while, lying down felt safe.

Down below, Emma sat on the edge of her bunk for a moment, hands folded in her lap. She looked smaller when she was quiet like this, her hair falling forward as she ducked her head. Tired. Still a little shaken, probably. I watched as she slipped off her shoes and tucked them carefully beside the bed. Even that she did softly, like she was afraid of making too much noise.

Olivander was less graceful about it. He muttered something under his breath as he sat down, probably still annoyed, then pulled off one boot, then the other. He glanced up at me once.

He gave me a look, the kind that said he wanted to say more. Then he lay down, I must have really worried him.

I frowned a little to myself and settled deeper into the blanket.

Emma finally lay down too.

From up here, if I leaned a little and looked through the gap in the top bunk’s guardrail, I could see her. At first I only made out the shape of her, then the details slowly came into focus. Her face was turned toward the room, one hand tucked under her cheek, the blanket pulled almost all the way to her chin. She still looked worried, even half-buried in bedding, like sleep would have to sneak up on her before she let it take her.

The lamp flame gave one soft flicker.

Somewhere farther down the hall, a door clicked shut. Then silence settled back over everything.

I rolled to my back and stared up at the ceiling.

It looked different here than at home. Back home, the ceiling was all branches and living wood, with roots winding through the walls and moss softening the corners. Tiny firefly bugs would drift lazily through the dark, their light catching on bark and leaves. If I looked long enough, I could always find shapes in it all, faces in the knots, birds in the roots, whole stories hidden in the grain. Here there was only stone, pale and curved, with hairline cracks running through it like dry riverbeds.

I thought about Saint Alaric.

About the way he had looked at me.

About what he’d said.

Do not let them corrupt you. Keep them at bay.

My fingers curled against the blanket.

This isn’t me being corrupted.

Lumisiel has a plan.

I swallowed and turned to my side again.

Emma had finally gone still. Her breathing had evened out, soft and quiet. Watching her helped a little. Olivander too, though he was facing away, one arm hanging half off the bed like he’d dropped asleep before he finished settling. They were here. I wasn’t alone. Not really.

Still, I pressed my face deeper into the pillow and whispered in my head, because saying it out loud felt too big.

Okay.

Okay, Lumisiel.

I’ll follow your plan.

Even if I don’t get it yet.

Even if it hurts.

Even if it’s scary.

I’ll be your answer.

The room stayed quiet.

No shining light. No sudden warmth.

Just the slow breathing of sleeping people, the tiny hiss of the lamp, and the weight of the blanket over me.

My body was heavy now, the kind of heavy that came after crying too much and getting hurt and being carried home and yelled at and healed and confused all in one day. My eyes burned when I tried to keep them open.

Across from me, Emma shifted slightly in her sleep, then stilled again.

I watched her for a little longer.

Then my thoughts began to loosen, softening at the edges.

Lumisiel has a plan.

The words drifted through me again, thinner this time, more feeling than sentence.

I held onto them anyway.

And then I fell asleep though I knew sleep wouldn’t really come, it was time to be him again.