For all his massive size in his bear form, Henrick is quite nimble, even with me on his back. We pick our way through the woods toward the blood witch’s cabin.
I’ve never ventured this deep into the forest. The trees are so densely grouped, they create a canopy overhead that the sun’s rays cannot penetrate. If I did not know any better, I’d believe it was nearly dark instead of only midmorning.
Dorin and Althea believe Errik is beyond hope, that he has very little time left before he crosses from this world to the next, and that I should just give up. However, I refuse to accept his fate. Many things may seem impossible until they aren’t.
Before a dragon attacked the city, I never believed I could slay one. Before I lost the ability to walk, I never thought I’d still be able to live a full life. Until I was challenged, I never knew exactly what I was capable of.
“You are certain this is the way?” Henrick asks, pulling me back from my thoughts.
“Yes.” I pause. “I can never thank you enough for carrying me, Henrick. No one else would have brought me if not for you.”
“My motives are not purely unselfish, you know,” he replies.
I still, wondering if he will ask me to marry him again. Surely he’d realize that the answer would be no. After all, he is taking me to a blood witch to make a deal to save my Merman lover’s life.
He continues, “I do this because of the great balance.”
“The great balance? What is that?” I ask, curious to understand.
“All actions have consequences—good and bad. The choices we make are weighed in the grand scheme of things. Some call it fate, others chance. Whatever name you choose, the balance exists nonetheless.”
“I don’t understand,” I admit.
“You saved your city from a dragon and lost your legs. Now you will sacrifice again to save your Merman.” He pauses to allow the weight of his words to settle between us. “If the balance holds true, this will be repaid to you in kind. You will save him, and someone will eventually save you.”
My brow furrows. “From what?”
He shrugs, shifting me slightly on his back. “I do not know. However, I do expect that since I’ve helped you, someday someone else may be inclined to offer me aid when I need it in turn.”
I consider his words. “That is an interesting worldview.”
He nods. “It is the way of the North.”
That seems to be his answer for everything, and I find myself curious to visit Arnafell now. To see how these people of the North live with their blunt truths and manners, and yet, hearts of solid gold.
Ahead, a clearing shines brightly in the distant dark, a patch of light filtering in from above. A meager cabin sits in the center. With a thatched roof, two windows, an aged wooden door, and a compact garden to one side, one would never suspect what lies within.
As we approach, my nerves begin to fail me. I clench my hands into fists, clinging to Henrick’s fur to try to still their shaking. When we reach the door, I steel myself and slide off his back.
He shifts back into his human form, and I’m surprised to see him clothed even though he explained this to me on our way here. Just as he shifts from one form to the next, he can conjure the appearance of clothing so as not to appear naked.
He lifts me into his strong arms and holds me tightly to his chest as I knock on the door.
“Enter!” A woman’s voice calls from inside.
Henrick pushes the door open, and the strong scent of herbs greets us. The floor is bare earth. In one corner, a worn wooden worktable is covered in bottles of unlabeled, colorful liquids. I note all the various herbs and plants hanging from the ceiling to dry. A fireplace with a roaring fire sits along the opposite wall. Before it stands another chair, bearing a woman.
She turns, and I gape at her. She is one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen. She has long, lavender hair that hangs past her shoulders, sharp, tipped ears like the Fae or the Elves, violet skin, and amber eyes that seem to pierce me. “I have been expecting you,” she says matter-of-factly.
She is a blood witch, so I do not question this statement. Besides, I am only here for one thing, and I feel we must hurry. “Then you already know what I want.”
She stands and walks toward me, her eyes narrowing on Henrick. He growls low in his throat. “Mind yourself, witch,” he snarls. “I’ll not allow you to hurt her.”
A smirk twists her lips. “Oh, but you will if it is her choice.” Her eyes shift to me, and she holds out a vial of green liquid. “This is what you have come for. Would you like to hear the price?”
As she moves closer, darkness seems to swell all around her. As if night and shadow cling to her form. She smiles and I wince inwardly when I notice two rows full of teeth, long and sharp as knives. Her nails extend into long, black claws, lethal and deadly.
I swallow against the knot of fear in my stomach. “What is the price?”
“Your love.”
My head jerks back. “I don’t understand.”
She reaches out and runs her finger along my chin and jaw, her sharp claws grazing my skin as her amber, reptilian eyes search mine. “Many understand how powerful of an emotion love can be, but most do not realize it creates magic, as well.”
“Magic?”
“Yes.” Her lips curl up in a sinister grin and her sharp teeth seem to grow even longer. “One of the most powerful forms there is. You will give this potion to your Merman, and he will heal. In exchange, your memories of him, along with the love that you feel, will be transferred to me.”
She caresses my face, and I jerk away from her touch as she cackles “Yes. A pure love like yours will offer me much energy indeed and help keep me beautiful and young.”
Her words stop my heart. How many have made such deals with her in the past for her to appear as she does now?
I blink at her. “So, I won’t remember Errik?”
“No. You will not.” Her eyes shift to Henrick. “And neither will anyone close to you. That includes you as well, Bear of the North.”
My thoughts turn to my brother and Althea. If no one close to me remembers Errik and my love for him, they will not be able to remind me of what I’ve lost. But if Errik remembers our love, he can—
The Witch arches a brow. “Do you really believe that I cannot tell what you are thinking, Princess? The potion binds you. Your heart and mind will be sealed off from the man that you love. Only a magic far stronger than mine could break this enchantment. That is how it works.”
Sadness stabs at my chest as she narrows her eyes at me. “Do you accept?”
A growl rumbles Henrick’s chest as he addresses the witch. “She will still lose him if she takes your offer. Your price is cruel. Even I can see that.”
“Perhaps the ice around your heart is not as thick as you believe, Bear King,” A smirk twists her lips. “You believe my terms are cruel, but they are not. The Merman will live, and you—” she gestures to me,—“will be spared the pain that comes with love.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“I know a thing or two about shattered hearts, my dear. After all, it is one of the main reasons people come to me.”
Henrick growls even louder.
I place a hand on his chest, and his blue eyes snap to mine. “I cannot let Errik die, Henrick. Not when I could help him.”
“Good,” the witch says. “Here you are.” She places the vial in my hand.
Henrick’s lips curl back in a feral snarl as he levels an icy glare at her. “If your potion causes any other harm to befall her, I will be your death, old woman.”
She narrows her eyes. “I would expect nothing less from a King of the North.”
I turn to Henrick. “Let’s go. We must hurry.”
The trip back to the city seems to take forever, but in truth, I’m sure we take less time than we took to reach the witch. Henrick knows the way back since we’ve already traveled it, and this knowledge lends speed to our journey.
As soon as we reach the shore, Errik’s father lifts his gaze. Humans and Mer alike gather in silent vigil around Errik, who lies on a makeshift cot brought from the infirmary of the castle.
Gerold’s expression is thunderous when he notices the vial. “What did you have to promise her in exchange?”
I clench my jaw and tip my chin up in determination as Henrick carries me to Errik’s side. “I will lose my memories of him and forget our love for each other.” I turn to Toren and take his hand as I meet his gaze evenly. I am not close to him, so I hope that his memory will not be bound by the potion’s spell. “Please, tell him that I did this for him. I will not remember any of the time we have spent together.”
His eyes shine with sadness as he nods grimly. “Of course.”
I cup Errik’s face, turning his head toward me. I lean down and press a tender kiss to his lips as a tear drips from my lashes to his cheek. “I love you, Errik.”
Grief swells as I open his mouth and pour the green liquid onto his tongue. His lips move as he swallows, and darkness overwhelms me.
