Wendolun cleared his throat, and we turned back to him. “Eyrin will lead you out. Congratulations.”
Eyrin approached us. “If you will follow me,” he said with a low bow, then turned and led us out of the sanctum. As we left, the spirit creatures dispersed in an array of purple, blue, and gold magic. The light was dazzling, and I couldn’t help but feel grateful that they’d appeared on this night. I counted it as a good omen. Kull and I could use all the good luck we could get.
The night air was cool and clear, and when I looked up through the tree branches, the stars were so close it seemed they were touching the treetops. Keeping his hand in mine, Kull walked beside me, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt so happy, as if sadness could never possibly touch me again. It was a fragile feeling, one that I knew couldn’t last, but right now, it appeared I’d finally found what I’d always wanted—what I’d always needed—right here with Kull at my side.
Eyrin led us to a pier jutting out over the river. The sound of our footfalls on the wooden planks carried through the forest. At the end of the dock, we found a white wooden boat tied to a post. The long gondola was an elegant creation, with its bow gracefully carved to resemble a melimar. An elven man stood at the stern. He carried a long paddle as he waited for us to board.
“Where will this take us?” I asked Eyrin.
“We’ve prepared a place for you to rest tonight, but it’s not much, I’m afraid. For the occasional guests, like yourselves, we do keep a few small abodes open in the river forest area. The home is quite small and humble, but if you wish, you’re welcome to stay there. I’m sorry I do not have anything more suitable to offer.”
Eyrin’s words brought up something that had been on my mind for a while. With Theht still inhabiting my mind, what kind of wedding night could Kull and I have? I wasn’t sure how far we’d get. With Theht’s presence, not to mention my own underlying insecurities—and yes, I had to admit, they existed—was I ready?
“The homes in the forest are fine,” Kull answered, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Very well. Ravénois will take you there,” he said, nodding at the man standing in the boat. “If you don’t mind, I will take my leave. I wish you farewell and the best of luck. May the gods smile upon you.”
“And you also,” I said before Eyrin turned away and left us to board. Kull and I stepped off the pier and into the boat, where we found a low wooden bench and sat beside one another, keeping our fingers intertwined. Without a word, Ravénois untied the rope, placed the coiled loop on the bottom, and pushed off from the dock.
The boat glided across the water. An occasional splash came from Ravénois’s paddle, but other than that, only the sounds of night insects broke up the silence. The magic sparking through the trees, coupled with the lanterns hanging in the branches, reflected on the dark surface, and maywelters danced in our wake. Kull kissed my cheek, and I looked up at him.
“We did the right thing,” he said quietly.
“Yes, we did. I just hope your mom is okay with it.”
“We won’t tell her. We’ll have the ceremony she wants—assuming we’re still alive—singing, dancing, and theatrics, all of it. She’ll be happy and blissfully ignorant.”
“So we’ll pretend to get married all over again?”
“Yes, if we must.”
“Hmm, maybe we should let that asteroid destroy us after all.”
“Good idea.” He smiled, then pushed a strand of hair away from my face. “I don’t think I’ve ever been happier,” he whispered.
“Me either,” I whispered back.
We entered an area where the trees were spaced more infrequently apart. The trees that remained jutted from the water and were much taller than the others. Water rippled away from our boat and splashed the base of the trees’ trunks. Unobstructed by the tree canopy, moonlight spilled out over the water, a glow that turned everything to quicksilver.
Ravénois stopped at the base of a tree where a porch had been built around the bottom portion. A spiraling staircase wound up around the trunk, then stopped at a structure built atop the tree branches.
Kull and I exited the boat. As we climbed onto the platform, our boots echoing on the wooden boards, Ravénois maneuvered the vessel away from the deck and steered back the way he’d come. The sounds of splashing water grew silent as he rowed away and out of sight.
Kull and I climbed the spiraling stairs until we reached a small porch and an alcove overshadowing the doorway. Kull opened the door, and we looked inside the room. In traditional elven style, the blue glowing tree trunk took up the center of the space, and the rest of the room was filled with a large four-poster bed covered with a white duvet and a wash basin with exposed copper tubing.
In a separate room, we glanced through the open door and found a small table with a vase of elven herbs and flowers atop the surface. The scent of lemongrass filled the entire chamber. Sheer white curtains covered the picture windows on the far wall, diffusing the moonlight as it filtered inside.
As I moved to go in, Kull took me by the waist, stopping me.
“You can’t walk inside,” he whispered seductively in my ear, then lifted me into his arms and carried me across the threshold.
I could hardly believe this was all happening. It had only been yesterday that Kull’s memories of me had been erased and I’d worried he’d never remember me again, yet here we were now, his memories restored, and we were actually married. It was almost too much to
