only pain. The rest of the world faded away. I only lived in the pain.
Endless. An absolute pit of despair I’d never escape. There was no beginning or end to this torture. I was in a constant cycle, begging for death like I begged for relief. If I could just stop existing, maybe I could be free.
And then like the switch of a light, it was off. I gasped in relief.
“Get your ass up, Princess,” a familiar deep voice commanded. How did he get here? I blinked away the tears that had gathered in my eyes and searched for Cypress. He was standing over me with his bow in hand. My attacker was barely cold on the ground, an arrow protruding from his eye socket.
“We have to go,” Cypress groaned.
I scrambled to my feet, ears peeled for sounds in the distance. I didn’t get very far. Bhaltair and the rest of his men were just steps away, hidden by the thick brush of the forest. I wrapped my arms around my stomach as nausea rolled through me like a thunderstorm. Everything hurt. The echoes of my torture pricked at every nerve in my body.
Cypress grabbed my arm and dragged me through the forest with the booming sounds of shouts at my back. “Find them!” Bhaltair screamed. I breathed in the smell of magic in the air. This was a battlefield of charms and wit. Cypress, so far, was winning.
“Shit. They’re too close.” I watched in a state of shock as he dug out something from his pocket. “I only use this in emergencies, but it seems I have no choice. Forgive me, Princess.”
I didn’t have time to process his words. I shook my head as he opened up a jar of what looked like clay. “What is—”
“Stop talking,” Cypress interrupted while rubbing it over my skin. His hands touched my cheeks. My arms. The exposed skin of my chest. I gasped at the contact. “Don’t flatter yourself. It’ll kick in soon…”
My skin began to…harden? Transform? It was a sensation I couldn’t quite describe. My feet rooted on the spot, as if deep vines burrowed me into the ground. “What have you done?” I asked. Cypress seemed to grow smaller and smaller. I was taller. My mind foggier. My eyes blurred.
My dress ripped on the spot as branches shot out from my fingers. Oh my gods. I was turning into a tree. “I’ll come back for you,” Cypress whispered, running his hand along my trunk before he disappeared.
Chapter Eight
I was a tree. People shouted around me, but it felt distant, unimportant. The irony that I had never even really seen a tree until two days ago—was it two days ago? what did time matter for a tree?—was not lost on me. I let the rush of the winds move my branches as I swayed back and forth. I knew my place in the universe, understood my role in this lifetime. I was a bringer of air, one with the ground, with the elements.
Yes...it was possible to live happily like this for eternity. I closed my eyes.
Pain struck me hard. My branches disappeared, everything faded into blurred agony again as my roots dissipated. I heard screaming. Was it my own? I wasn’t even really sure anymore.
I was once again flat on the ground, my face in the dirt. But the sunlight was gone. How much time had passed since he’d turned me into a tree? One day? Hours? Weeks? I had no idea. I pounded on the ground before strong hands hauled me to my feet.
“You okay?” Cypress stared at me, one eyebrow lifted as he regarded me. He had a gash on his left cheek. It looked red, raw, painful.
I’d never know what prompted me to do what I did next. Maybe it was because I had actually sort of liked being that tree. For one brief moment in time, I had been one with the world. Then he’d ripped it away, putting me back into this hell.
I punched him right in the face.
I couldn’t have hurt a man like Cypress. He’d clearly been hit before and, I’d wager, by people who struck better than me. But it must have taken him by surprise, because he fell backward slightly when I did it. His eyes widened as he rubbed his cheek. I’d aimed for the one that wasn’t injured, so he could thank me for the small favor.
I gritted my teeth. “You know what? It would have been better if you’d