Beyond Hollow Echoes (Book Three)

⋆˖☽ ​​​​​​Chapter 9 ☾˖⋆

I took a deep inhale, allowing the morning winter air to bite my lungs and awaken my exhausted body. The sky above was a canopy of dark clouds, sending thick white snowflakes drifting down.

At least the Cursed Moon is finally gone. Despite the gray daylight, an uneasy knot twisted in my chest.

I lowered my gaze to the freshly cleared stone path leading into the heart of Luminethra. High snowbanks lined the edges, and scattered dragon tracks marked the routes the great beasts had taken near the perimeter of town.

Every roof in town was blanketed in snow, with thick plumes of gray smoke rising from the stone chimneys to fight off the bitter chill. As I drew closer to the square, the muffled sounds of life began to swell. A man balanced on a wooden ladder, untying the green, charred ribbons of mourning from the eaves and passing them down to a woman waiting below. Her fingers glided over each ribbon, her lips moving silently before she laid them into her woven basket.

A group of children scooped up handfuls of fresh snow, packing them into tight spheres before lobbing them at each other with ringing laughter. One snowball went wide, smacking into the scaled flank of a small purple dragon. The creature let out a smoky huff, spun around, and playfully sprinted at the child, tackling him into a snowdrift. The dragon nudged the boy's chest with its snout as the child threw his hands up in defeat, laughing.

"Alright, alright! I am sorry, it won't happen again!"

A smile tugged at the corners of my lips. At least they are happy. I reached up and pulled my hood a little further down to shield my eyes from the wind.

"Excuse me," a warm voice called out.

I turned around to find a woman in her late forties, cradling a small, swaddled child against her chest. Just beyond her shoulder, the timber door of a storage shed pushed open. Emeric stepped out into the falling snow, his arms carrying a stack of split pine logs.

I forced my focus back to the woman. "Yes?"

"Would you mind helping me? I need more wood for my home's hearth."

"I can help," I offered. "But you will have to show me where to gather the wood first."

A relieved smile blossomed on her wind-chapped lips. "Certainly, thank you so much for agreeing." Hearing the crunch of boots behind her, she turned around. "I found someone to help you!" she chimed out.

Emeric paused mid-stride. A flicker of warmth crossed his eyes the moment they locked onto mine. A smile spread across his usually stoic face.

"Why don’t you head home, Renna," Emeric said. "There is no need for you to stay out in this cold. I will guide her."

"Are you sure? I truly do not mind."

"I do not," Emeric assured her, his gaze never leaving mine.

"Thank you again. I will get back inside and get little Telain out of this chill then. I’ll be waiting for you both."

Emeric stepped closer. "I was going to find you after I finished with the woodpile."

"You don’t have to now…" My words trailed off. I averted my gaze from his, looking at the stack of split logs balanced in his arms.

"Renna is waiting in the cold. Come, I should show you where to gather some wood."

He turned, guiding me toward the timber storage shed. I fell into step beside him. "Is she all alone?"

Emeric's steady stride faltered for a fraction of a second before he recovered. "She lost her daughter and her older son in-law in the war with the Ashen Vow." His jaw tightened, his leather-gloved hands gripping the rough bark of the logs. "Telain was their son."

A pain swelled in my chest. "I know we can’t change what happened to them—"

"No," Emeric agreed. "But we do take care of each other."

We stepped out of the wind and into the dim, sheltered storage shed. The earthy scent of split pine and rich sap filled my lungs. Splintered logs were stacked in long, meticulous rows, the piles against the far walls reaching all the way up to the vaulted ceiling. Three other townsfolk were inside, quietly pulling from the stacks and gathering the timber into their arms.

I found a smaller pile near the center and began collecting my share. Emeric's load of wood clattered to the floor beside me.

"Let me help you," he offered, stepping into my space.

"I can do it," I pulled another rough log free and stacking it against my chest.

"I know you are capable, Alanah." He leaned in closer, dropping his chin and keeping his deep voice to a low rumble so only I could hear it. "But I’d like to help."

I opened my mouth to protest. "I—"

"You can just say thank you."

Heat flooded my cheeks, combating the winter chill. My eyes darted down to the pile of wood. Footsteps tapped past us as the other townsfolk carried their loads out of the shed, leaving us alone in the dusty, amber light.

"Thank... you," I muttered.

He picked up a log and placed it into my waiting arms. The wood clacked together as he stacked it, his knuckles brushing against the wool of my cloak. He moved effortlessly, handling each heavy log as if it weighed nothing.

He placed one final piece at the very top of my stack. "This should be enough," he murmured. He bent down to scoop up his own pile from the floor.

Once we were both loaded down, he led the way out of the shed, guiding me back through the bustling square and down a quiet, snow-swept path to a modest stone home. No smoke puffed from its chimney. A faint light flickered from within the frosted glass, and a shadow darted past the window, followed by the sound of quick footsteps.

The door creaked open to reveal Renna. Her brown eyes lit up with relief. "I am so glad you both are back."

She still held the swaddled child against her chest, stepping back from the threshold and bouncing on her heels to soothe the sleeping infant.

The howling wind died out the second we stepped inside, but the stagnant air in the house was still bone-chillingly cold. "I waited a bit too long to ask for help," Renna admitted, her voice shaking.

"Next time, let someone know," Emeric said, making his way across the small room to the empty, soot-stained hearth.

"Yes... I will remember." The natural warmth in her voice returned. The bundled baby in her arms shifted, letting out a fussy cry as it began to wake. "I will step away for a moment."

I stepped up close beside Emeric as he finished stacking his logs onto the stone. "I'll start the fire." I reached out, beginning to arrange the timber within the hearth.

"Here, let me take those."

I turned toward him just as he stepped closer. He towered over me, his massive frame casting a long shadow in the dim light. I tilted my head back to meet his gaze. His vibrant green eyes slid from mine, lingering on my lips for a breath too long before dropping to my outstretched hands.

Without a word, he reached out and took the logs from my grip. The leather of his gloves brushed against my fingers as he added the wood to the stack.

I tried to ignore his overwhelming presence and focus on the task at hand. Spotting a flint and steel sitting on a nearby wooden shelf, I grabbed them and knelt on the freezing stone of the hearth.

A few feet away, Emeric leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. Even without looking up, I could feel the heat of his gaze burning right through me. I struck the metal against the stone, sending a shower of orange sparks cascading over the dry kindling.

Grabbing the woven hand fan, I began pumping air into the glowing embers. Delicate wisps of gray smoke began to dance upward, and a moment later, the small, flickering flames caught. They took hold of the logs. The crackling heat of the fire began to push back the winter chill, filling the quiet room.

I stood up, brushing the dust from my knees. When I turned around, my breath hitched in my throat.

Emeric was no longer leaning against the far wall. He had moved silently and now stood in front of me, his towering frame blocking my path to the door.

"He was in your room for a long time last night." His words came out clipped, but his eyes betrayed him. They held that exact same fear I had seen the night before.

I stiffened, my heart beginning to hammer against my ribs. "He wanted to talk about the Storm Siren."

"I told him everything about the Siren," he bit out. "He didn’t need to seek you out."

Emeric took another slow step closer, his boots scraping against the floorboards. He tilted his head down, his gaze searching mine with a suffocating intensity that made it nearly impossible to breathe. "Did he tell you everything he wanted to say?"

My fingers curled into tight fists, digging into the fabric of my trousers. I opened my mouth to answer him.

Creak.

The floorboards in the hall groaned.

I snapped my head toward the doorway. Renna stood frozen in the threshold, clutching her swaddled baby to her chest. She remained silent for a moment before shifting her weight.

"Thank… thank you both for your help," she stammered, her wide eyes darting between us.

We both took a swift step back from each other at the same time.

"Let us know if you need any more help, Renna."

"Not today. Thank you both again." She hesitated, shifting the sleeping baby in her arms, her eyes dropping to the floor. "And... if I may be so blunt. Don’t take life for granted. It’s shorter than we realize."

Fresh tears started to well in her brown eyes. Neither of us could give her the comfort she needed; we only knew how to survive a war, not how to heal a broken heart. Unable to speak, I just gave her a silent nod and turned to the door.

I pushed the door open and stepped outside. The warmth of the hearth peeled away from my skin, stolen by the winter air with each step I took into the snow. Emeric fell into a silent pace beside me.

As we rounded the corner back into the bustling square, he drifted just a fraction closer. The back of his leather-clad hand brushed against mine.

The muffled sounds of the townsfolk conversing carried through the square, punctuated by the deep groan of a resting dragon. We walked side-by-side in silence until we reached the edge of the town. There, his finger brushed mine once more—a touch so faint it was maddening.

I stopped walking. His hand remained where it was, hovering in the space between us. I lifted my index finger, letting the side of it brush against his before falling away.

"You already know what was said in that room," my voice was softer than the falling snow.

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing as the silence stretched taut between us.

I searched the harsh angles of his face. "Did Mira really need him last night?"

"No." He paused, his gaze dropping from mine. "She didn’t."

He hates lying… so why?

"I tried to stay calm," his deep voice turned rough. "But when I heard what he said to you... I… I didn’t want him to push you any further. I couldn't stand to hear any more."

"He isn’t you," I whispered into the quiet air. "And you already said he can’t have me."

Emeric's breath hitched. He brought his leather-gloved hand up to cover his mouth, but he couldn't hide the heat rushing to his cheeks. The tips of his ears turned red. He quickly tilted his head away, trying to shield his flustered face from my gaze.

"We leave in the morning," he blurted out.

He went rigid. His brows pulled together into a deep line as he stared down at the snow.

What is wrong? My heart skipped a beat as my gaze followed his down to the stone walkway.

There, pushing through the packed ice of the winter path, a single, vibrant green sprout was growing. Right before our eyes, it pushed upward, slowly opening its fragile green leaves to the deadly winter air.

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