The Secret World of Briar Rose(84)

So why couldn’t Corin let it go?

“We can’t survive without each other,” Briar said, as if recalling a memory.

The familiarity of the words struck Corin. “Do you really think so?”

“That’s what my stepmother said. She dedicated her life to housing people who were fleeing from war, even if it was dangerous to do so. There’s so much cruelty in the world, perhaps the only thing that made sense to her was helping people in ways she wished she had been helped, too.”

Their boat passed by icy rocks that were chipped into familiar pieces, a flicker of Harlow’s burning gaze. Corin shook her head to ward off the presence. “That’s a noble cause, but it’s not how reality works. We only survive by helping ourselves.”

“Maybe you’re right.” There was a long pause. When Briar spoke again, her voice shook. “Lilith was the most selfless person I knew, and she died because of it. When I tried to help, my father died next.”

Tears spiked her lashes. She pressed a palm over her face and began to cry quietly. The stars blinked into dying lights. The aurora dimmed into silver before vanishing into wisps. Darkness descended on them like a blanket. Corin reached for Briar’s free hand. She focused on the gentle rocking of the boat beneath their bodies as proof that they were still here, and not disappearing as well.

“I keep wondering, does anything we do matter? Am I foolish to wish that it does? When I think about the people that Lilith brought to Gyldan, surely, their lives have changed. There are generations that exist, mothers and daughters, fathers and sons, who live and dream and experience wonderful things because someone once helped.”

Briar inhaled deeply, letting the tears subside. A quiet conviction overtook her voice.

“That’s why you keep your necklace, isn’t it? Without a stranger’s kindness, you wouldn’t have existed. And what a terrible world that would have been.”

Corin thought about what would happen if she were to wake up and return to Gyldan, existing once more in reality. Would the time she experienced here no longer matter? She hardly remembered her dreams after waking up. Memories often turned abstract and blurry, disintegrating into wisps. She fixed her sight onto the snowflakes that fell on Briar’s lashes. She counted each one, so that if she forgot, she could still piece together the details of the girl before her. The slope of her ear, the freckles on her cheeks. The truth was that Corin didn’t plan on waking up at all. Not if it meant saying goodbye to Elly, or never seeing Malicine return, or losing her only connection to Briar Rose.

“The only way I can exist is by being here,” Corin said. “If you wake up, I’ll disappear. And for the first time in my life, you make me not want to.”

Corin would rather believe in the existence of forever, where time could freeze in place for love to remain. If she were to wake up in the real world, she wouldn’t survive it. She was sure Briar felt the same way, or their grief wouldn’t have mixed together as one when they’d drowned in the ocean. They didn’t want change. Corin wanted stability, Briar wanted escape. If they were together, they could cling onto that hope.

“Let’s sleep forever,” Corin said. “We’ll never wake up, and we’ll never say goodbye.”

She knew she was being selfish. But in their dreams, it was okay to be, wasn’t it?

Briar’s shoulders lowered with relief, because they both knew it was easier to give in. Better to live in the calm after the storm than turn back and face it again.

A shrill croak erupted their reverie. Their heads snapped to the sky, where a row of stars parted for a flapping shadow. One wing drooped as if it were stuck in the wrong position, while the other wing fought to keep the rest of his body midair. Corin lunged forward and caught Talon before he could plunge in water. His feathers smelled like ash, and when she touched the drooping wing, he screeched in pain.

An item fell from his beak and onto the boat. Briar picked up the cloth, small and torn, barely the size of her palm. Corin held on to the raven, hoping he would stay with them, but his body already turned limp and cold. He had used the last of his remaining strength to carry the torn cloth.

Fear struck Corin at the same time Briar recognized where the fabric came from. The cloth was dark, but under the stars, they still recognized Malicine’s blood.

They were close to reaching Autumnland when a deafening rumble shattered the island and rippled across the ocean. The waves beneath the boat shook violently, as if the sea itself convulsed in agony. Corin held on to Briar as they watched rocks tumble down cliffsides and light shoot through the fog. She imagined a fissure splitting the earth, but knew the sudden earthquake was not an isolated incident.

“We’re too late,” Briar whispered. “He’s here. I can feel him.”

She knelt over, hands wrapped around her skull as a pounding headache took over. Her body trembled, matching the aftershocks ripping through the ocean. Corin seized her by the shoulders.

“You need to go back and hide. Now.”

“But—”

“He will kill you.” Corin remembered the rage in Ezran’s eyes, the trickle of blood from his blade at her throat. He was someone accustomed to violence, readily wielding it in his hands. “I’ll find Malicine and bring the amulet so we can escape. Together. I can’t—I don’t want to live a life without you, Briar Rose.”