Page 27 of A House of Cloaks & Daggers

Fine!

I shrugged, casting my eyes around the shadowed Forest, and spoke to its watchful presence in my mind.I no longer wish to travel with him.

As if Wren had heard my thought too, his eyes flared with ire, and he moved to grab me—but the Forest moved faster.

In the blink of an eye, a tiny sapling rose from the soil between us, the sharp edges of its leaves glinting like steel, and sprouted open like a Venus flytrap. The gold chain links groaned and then broke apart as the sapling chomped down on them and burrowed back into the ground as soon as the chain swung free. The manacle fell to the ground with a soft thump.

My skin grew hot within the bracelet’s imprint as if someone was tracing a circle around my forearm with a fire poker. It was intense, yet not enough to cause pain. I didn’t even care that it left a tiny, scar-like indentation around my arm that glimmered faintly in the low light.

Smiling broadly, I brushed my hands together and glanced at Wren to see if his handcuff had been destroyed as well. It happened so fast; I almost didn’t spot the snakelike vine shooting down at him from the canopy until it was too late.

He sidestepped, swearing viciously as the vine hurled down like an arrow from the sky. Light flared on each of his palms even as he reached for the dagger sheathed at his side, and I could have sworn the entire Forest began to hiss at him in response.

Twirling the blade in his hand, Wren assumed a defensive stance as the vine adjusted its course and speared towards him again. He feinted left, then pirouetted to the right, bringing the blade down in a sharp swing and slicing off a chunk of the vine as it swooped past him.

The vine sagged on the floor as if it was feeling the pain of its wound, but then it was barrelling towards him like a rolling log, aiming to knock his feet out from under him. Wren jumpedinto the air, tucking his feet and somersaulting right before the vine pulled upwards, and landed with perfect, although entirely melodramatic, form beside me. He tossed the dagger into the air and caught it by the hilt like it was nothing.

“Take it back.” His smile was cheerful, but his voice was a low snarl. “Now.”

“Promise to forgo the handcuffs,” I bartered.

The Forest came after him again, a new vine shooting out from the underbrush and torpedoing between us. It wrapped itself around his legs like a constrictor, though he yelled and slashed it in half before it was done.

“Fine,” he agreed, exasperated. He kicked his legs free while a rock came hurtling out of the shadows, barely missing his head as he ducked. Pupils dilating, he raised his brows at me and shook his head. “No handcuffs.” He pointed at me with the dagger and looked me square in the eye. “You’re no fun.”

Another sapling shot up from the ground and knocked the dagger from his grip. He managed to catch it with his other hand, and then proceeded to stamp his boots down on the sapling like he was putting out a fire.

Holding back a snicker, I tried to give the Forest a grateful look.Thank you, but I’m okay now.

A vine came slithering up behind me, and Wren brandished his dagger again, halting only when I put my hand up to stop him.

“Wait.”

His face creased with annoyance, but he obeyed, holding the blade above his shoulder, poised to plunge into the vine.

It ignored him and his offensive posture, sliding in between us before it rose up in front of me like a snake. There were no visible eyes or ears this time, but I was consumed by the feeling of being studied as its thorny end hovered at eye level in front of my face.

After a moment, it lowered itself back down to the ground and gently nudged my heel.

Somehow, I understood exactly what it was saying.

Wren, however, looked to me for permission to stab it. I shook my head and gestured towards the path onwards. The veins in his neck protruded, and he gave me a beseeching look that almost had me laughing at him out loud.

Instead, I simply started walking again.

And, as I knew it would, the vine followed me. Escorting me in case I changed my mind again.

It did so for the entire journey out of the Forest of Eyes and Ears, much to Wren’s discomfort when he finally decided to stop pouting and caught up to my side. He was clearly bothered, which I considered an added bonus of my botanic chaperone.

When we at last made it to the edge, I turned around and stroked the vine in thanks. It leaned into the touch like a dog, and Wren’s disgusted expression almost made me laugh again.

I didn’t, though.

But I did smile.

Because for a moment—for the blink of two starry eyes—I felt the ever-present tension that had claimed ownership of my soul long ago slacken.

Iforgot.

---