Page 2 of Earth-Bound

I felt bad leaving the plants inside that house when, every timeIleft it, I only felt relief. But I’m sure the plants didn’t mind being there. It was just me. I’d never liked being trapped inside. I was a rover. I liked to be on the road.

As I carried the large, now-empty watering can back to the nearby shed, I thought about moving on. I’d been there for weeks already and I didn’t tend to stay in a place that long. In my last place, working for a rich estate owned by a fierce woman called Mrs. Winters, I’d actually stayed for months. Nearly a whole year. It was the longest I’d been in one place, but I’d liked it. The rich family were all snobs (except one) and they didn’t deign to speak to the common staff like me, but I’d actually liked that about the place. I’d been left to get on with my work, which was tending the garden, and I’d loved it. The thing that had made me leave, in the end, was discovering that Mrs. Winters was a homophobe. She never spoke to me, but I didn’t work for homophobes on principle, so I’d up and left. It had been Randall Winters (the one non-snob of the whole family) who’d suggested I’d come here, and I had. So far, it had been a good decision.

I’d stay a while longer, I decided. I liked it here. There was lots to do and I liked the people around me. And, even better, I was left on my own a lot and just got to see the people I liked for a few hours a day.

Really, I was much better with plants than I was people.

Chapter 2: Terrund

Ihad been trapped in my tree for years. It was so tight in here, not uncomfortable but… tight. The spells were wrapped so hard around me that they were a constant pressure and they blocked my senses. That was the worst of it, that I couldn’t sense the world around me.

There’s nothing more painful for an earth spirit than to be cut off from the earth.

Luckily, I was still in my tree. The man chasing me, he’d wanted to cut me off from it but I’d hidden away and he couldn’t get to me. He’d been angry. That was when he’d wrapped the spells around the tree.

I was trapped. Me inside my tree. But at least I was in the tree. At least it was still alive. He threatened to cut the tree down but he never did. No, nobody ever came near the tree and I slipped into a state of dreamless sleep. Sometimes I woke and caught brief glimpses of what was around me, but it was hard to sense anything so it was more flashes of sound, of feelings, and then more nothingness.

That is until I felt the first jolt.

I couldn’t even identify what it was, I just knew that someone had passed by me. Someone… perhaps notpowerfulbut definitelyimportant.

I felt it again later, and again. I wasn’t sure how often. Everything between the jolts was the same stale darkness.

Gradually, I woke more often and managed to cling to consciousness for longer. I could barely feel the earth, which was frustrating because, if I could, I would know instantly what was so important about those footsteps.

I was unconscious when the witch first tugged at the spell and it woke me with a start. At first, I thought it was painful but then, as he tugged again, I realised that it wasn’t painful but rather uncomfortable. Those spells had been wrapped around me, around my tree, so tightly that I had become used to them and to feel them moved and picked off was strange and unsettling but not painful.

The more the spell came off, the better I could sense the world around me. It was slow going, at first, and I began to hear his voice murmuring to me.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of this. You’re going to be ok.”

His voice was soft and he was taking the tight spells off my tree, so I relaxed. I hadn’t realised that I’d been holding myself so tightly. My tree had been bristling with unease and agitation but it, too, relaxed and waited.

As the witch slowly drew the spells out and away from me, I could breathe easier. The sun struck my branches and my leaves turned towards the warmth and the light, tilting up for thefirst time in forever. My roots were still swaddled and I couldn’t feel the earth, but the sunlight was nice. The witch kept talking to me, too, and I found myself listening.

“These are some pretty nasty spells you’ve had on you. You’ll be glad to get rid of them. Who would put such spells on you anyway?”

Who indeed? He had been old, even at the time, frail and liver-spotted and avaricious. He’d wanted me to mate him so he could live forever. I’d tried to tell him that he wouldn’t live forever no matter what, but he hadn’t believed me.

I’d tried to tell him that I couldn’t mate anyone but my fated mate, and he hadn’t believed that, either.

Ok, that had been untrue. Technically, Icouldmate someone who wasn’t my fated mate but why would I want to? Why would I tie myself to a person I didn’t love? I had not loved the witch. He’d grasped at me with clinging fingers, fear of death in his eyes and burning desire for power lurking just below the surface. He had repulsed me in every way.

I felt a shudder run through me. He’d been so angry. He’d bound me in here, when I refused to come out. At least I was in a tree. Earth spirits could survive as long as they were anchored to the earth.

An unfamiliar voice snapped out, low and angry, and I jolted. “What you doing to my tree?”

Histree? Of all the cheek.

The witch stopped tugging at the spells.

“Broadmire! What the hell do you think you’re doing sneaking up on me?”

“I wasn’t sneaking anywhere. You weren’t paying attention.”

“I was busy.”

“Doing something to my tree. What were you doing?”

---