The Secret World of Briar Rose(58)

Briar and Malicine had also reached the summit, reuniting with the sisters. Corin stepped onto a jagged rock and let fresh air kiss her cheeks while a waterfall sprouted from the cliffside ahead of them. Her heart beat against the necklace resting on her chest. She thought about their new future, just within their reach, as she would finally find her treasure.

Black rocks shone around the crest of the waterfall where the stream began. A rectangular wooden box was submerged underwater, snagged by a stray branch. Corin hadn’t spotted the box until Briar pointed out its location. Of course the treasure chest would look nondescript, hidden at the highest peak of the mountain and covered by running streams and shrubbery.

Corin’s hands held two things. In her left, Elly’s palm. In her right, the necklace tucked beneath her shirt. She let both go so she could approach the waterfall, careful to balance atop the pathway of rocks. Her palms scooped the box and felt the smooth wooden surface. The treasure was lighter than she expected, but her fingers started trembling, and suddenly the chest felt heavy with the knowledge that its contents would change her future.

She held more gold than she ever carried in her life. This was the sort of wealth people fought wars and betrayed lovers for. Corin stole a glance at the others waiting near the plateau. She could not read the expressions on Briar and Malicine, but Elly, she could always recognize. The pinch between her brows, the worried teeth mark on her bottom lip. Corin wanted to reassure her that she didn’t need to be nervous. For the first time, they were going to be okay. Corin would be the one to prove it.

Her fingers pried open the hinge, a slow yawning of the box for the grand reveal. Yet contained inside velvet lining was not a necklace glittering in gold, a long-lost crown jewel made of hundreds of carats, or any item belonging to royalty at all.

Instead there was a canvas, flat and old and barely bigger than her hand. Splatters of paint created a familiar scene: tangerine skies, puffy clouds, rolling green hills separated by a river. This painting looked like Summerland, except Corin recognized in the picture the rows of rooftops from Gyldan, the chimney smoke wafting in the air, the bundle of wildflowers in the foreground. She remembered how shaky her hand recognized in the picture the from painting every tiny petal. How the sunset looked beautiful as she’d followed her mother down the cliff, turning their skin a darker shade of brown.

How much she had loved that ordinary day.

“What is it?” Elly asked, trying to peer over Corin’s shoulder. Corin couldn’t respond. The box collapsed to the ground, and the waterfall seized it in roaring waves. She held the painting in shaking hands, but she couldn’t see it anymore, only a curtain of red rage.

The painting shouldn’t have existed. Not anymore. A soldier had smashed his foot through the canvas during one of their invasions. She remembered thinking she should have sold the art and at least gotten a few coins, rather than cling onto it in foolish sentimentality.

Why was it in her hands now? With her dreams gone, what use could she possibly have for it anymore?

“Whatever appears inside the box is your treasure,” Briar said. “You used to paint, didn’t you? It’s—”

Corin spun around, nearly snapping the canvas in half. “You promised you’d give me your family’s treasure. The one that Ezran waited a hundred years for. The one that you abandoned.”

“Briar didn’t promise that,” Malicine interrupted. “She said she’d help you find your treasure. The one that belongs to you.”

Corin couldn’t believe it. She let out a bitter laugh. What was art but just a rich man’s dream? It would never provide for her, put food in her stomach, or help her feel safe at night. She didn’t have the capacity to create beautiful things, nor the time and money to do so. She had no energy left for dreaming.

“Is this some kind of joke? You get my hopes up, string me along, just to give me something worthless and say that’s all I ever wanted?”

The sunset softened Briar’s sad expression. She spoke more gently, and that infuriated Corin even more. “If it matters to you, it’s not worthless.”

Something snapped in Corin. The frivolity of Briar’s words, the useless emotions behind them. If she was trying to teach Corin a lesson, she picked the wrong person. Rage broke the canvas into pieces, splintering the frames, cracking the varnish. Corin hurled the painting over the waterfall, where the waves would swallow it whole, bleeding the paints together until the scenery became soaked in sludge.

Elly yelled, her hand reaching in useless grasps. She jumped over the rocks and tried catching the broken pieces, but it was too late. The sight reminded Corin of her sister picking up the fox’s shattered parts once more. Her knees were on the ground again, her fingers picking apart the pieces left behind by Corin’s rage. Things returned to the way they were so easily.

Corin shoved regret in the back of her mind, as easy as fitting her hand into a glove, and turned to Briar.

“Just because you were miserable with your life doesn’t give you the right to decide what’s best for mine.”

Her sister returned from the rocks. “Corin, stop—”

“Shut up, El.” She saw the flash of hurt in Elly’s eyes. She couldn’t stop herself. She was too angry to care. “There’s a reason why you’re hiding the real treasure, isn’t there? You’re ashamed of what it means. You can’t bear facing the truth.”