Chapter 85 The Hope of escaping
Alberto woke slowly, the cursed clearing coming into focus through heavy eyelids. The twisted trees stood like silent sentinels around the perimeter, their branches woven so tightly overhead that only slivers of the bruised purple sky showed through. The fire had burned low, reduced to glowing embers that cast a faint orange light across the faces of the trapped wolves. His body felt leaden, every muscle aching from the strain of the previous healing attempt, but the sharp, burning pain in his chest had dulled to a persistent throb. He was alive. That was something.
He pushed himself up on one elbow, wincing as the movement pulled at the fresh scar tissue on his back. The sand beneath him felt cold now, no longer warm and sucking. The clearing had calmed, as though the place itself had fed enough on his energy for the moment.
Ronan noticed the movement first. The brown-furred wolf sat up straight, ears perking. “You are awake.”
Selene, who had been tending the fire, turned immediately, her golden eyes sharp with concern. Elara and Finn shifted closer, forming a loose semicircle around him. Lira stayed at the edge, watching quietly.
Alberto managed a weak smile. “I am fine. Just tired.”
Ronan snorted. “You nearly died. Again.”
Alberto pushed himself to a sitting position, ignoring the protest of his body. “I promised I would find a way to let you all out of here if I survived. I meant it.”
Selene’s expression tightened. “Do not try anything that will backfire on you. We have been here long enough to know this place does not give up its prisoners easily.”
Alberto met her gaze steadily. “I have no time left on my side. The blood moon is close. I have to find the soul shepherd and guide the spirits. I also need the crystalberry pods before the full moon rises. If I wait, the rites will fail, and the forest will weaken further.”
Ronan crossed his arms. “Is there any other reason you are in such a hurry?”
Alberto shook his head. “No. Just the rites.”
Ronan studied him for a long moment. “You are hiding something.”
Alberto did not answer.
Selene spoke softly. “I can help summon the soul shepherd. But our abilities do not work while we are trapped in here. The curse blocks them.”
Alberto nodded. “I expected as much. The forest itself is weakened here. But if I can reach the heart of the clearing, I might be able to draw enough power to break through.”
Ronan frowned. “The heart is the deepest part. The sand is thickest there. It will try to pull you under again.”
Alberto stood slowly, testing his balance. “Then I will have to be faster.”
Elara stepped forward. “We will help. We know the patterns of the sand. The places it pulls hardest.”
Finn nodded. “And the places where the ground is firmer. We have mapped them over time.”
Lira spoke quietly from the edge. “But if you fail, the curse tightens. It feeds on failed attempts.”
Alberto looked at each of them. “I know the risk. But I made a promise.”
Selene rose gracefully. “Then we begin at first light. The moon is strongest then.”
The group settled around the fire, the conversation turning to plans. Ronan sketched rough maps in the dirt with a stick, marking the safe paths and the deadly spots where the sand swallowed whole. Selene explained the summoning ritual, the words needed to call the soul shepherd, the offering of blood and memory that would draw it forth.
Alberto listened intently, committing every detail to memory. His own strength was returning slowly, the green veins under his skin flickering faintly when he focused. The verdant eye Samael had given him rested in his pocket, its warmth a small comfort.
As the night deepened, the wolves shared more of their stories. Ronan spoke of the day he had entered the sands, chasing a rogue who had killed his mate. Elara told of being betrayed by her own pack, accused of treason and banished here as punishment. Finn had been a scout who wandered too far. Lira had followed a vision, believing the clearing held answers.
They laughed quietly at old memories, cried at the losses, and held onto the fragile hope Alberto had brought.
When the first gray light of dawn touched the twisted canopy, they rose.
Ronan helped Alberto to his feet. “Ready?”
Alberto nodded. “Ready.”
The group moved toward the heart of the clearing, the sand shifting under their feet like a living thing.
Alberto took the lead, the verdant eye glowing brighter in his hand.
Alberto closed his eyes. He drew a slow, deep breath, feeling the last reserves of his strength gather in his chest. The poison he had taken from Selene still burned in his veins, a dark fire that threatened to consume him, but he refused to let it win. Not yet. Not when these wolves had waited so long for freedom.
He raised the verdant eye toward the sky.
“Thornwood,” he whispered, voice raw but steady. “Answer me.”
The gem flared.
Green light exploded outward in a blinding wave. Vines erupted from the sand impossible, since no plants had grown here for centuries. Thick, strong tendrils burst upward, twisting and weaving into the air like living ropes. They spread across the clearing, curling around the twisted trees that formed the barrier, sinking roots deep into the cursed earth.
The sand hissed. It tried to pull, to swallow the new life, but the verdant eye’s power was stronger. The vines tightened, lifting the sand in great sheets, exposing the dark soil beneath. The curse itself recoiled, an invisible force that had held this place for untold years now shuddering under the assault.
Alberto’s knees buckled. He dropped to one knee, still holding the gem high. Sweat poured down his face. His vision blurred. The green light from his body flickered, dimming dangerously.
Ronan stepped forward instinctively. “Alberto—”
“Stay back!” Selene snapped, grabbing his arm. “He is lifting the curse. If you interfere now, it will take him instead.”
The vines continued to grow, thicker, faster. They wrapped around the perimeter trees, forcing them apart. Cracks appeared in the air itself, thin lines of silver light breaking through the red moonlight. The curse screamed a sound like tearing metal and began to fracture.
Alberto’s body shook violently. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. His arm trembled, but he refused to lower the gem.
With one final surge, the verdant eye blazed like a green sun.
The curse shattered.
The twisted trees groaned as they straightened, branches reaching toward a suddenly visible night sky. The sand settled, becoming ordinary earth once more. The oppressive weight that had pressed on every soul in the clearing lifted like a storm breaking.
Alberto collapsed forward.
The gem slipped from his fingers, rolling across the ground.
The wolves rushed to him.
Ronan caught him before his face hit the dirt, lifting him carefully into his arms. “He is out.”
Selene knelt beside them, pressing her fingers to Alberto’s throat. “Pulse is weak, but steady. He is alive.”
Elara and Finn hurried to gather blankets and furs from their small stash. Lira found a sheltered spot beneath one of the now-straightened trees and began clearing a space.
They built a simple cabin of branches and hides in minutes, working with the efficiency of those who had survived together for years. Ronan carried Alberto inside and laid him gently on a bed of soft furs. Selene covered him with a blanket, then sat beside him, wiping his face with a damp cloth.
Hours passed.
The wolves took turns watching over him, keeping the fire burning, whispering among themselves about what they had witnessed. The clearing no longer felt cursed. The air tasted clean. For the first time in longer than any of them could remember, they felt the forest breathing with them instead of against them.
When Alberto finally woke, it was to the soft sound of fire crackling and the gentle pressure of Selene’s cloth against his forehead.
He coughed weakly. Blood flecked his lips.
Selene pressed a cup of water to his mouth. “Slowly.”
He drank, then looked around. “Did… did it work?”
Ronan knelt beside him, grinning despite the worry in his eyes. “The curse is gone. The sand is just sand now. The trees are normal. We are free.”
Alberto exhaled in relief. “Good.”
Selene studied him. “You nearly died.”
Alberto tried to sit up. Ronan helped him. “I had to.”
Ronan shook his head. “You keep risking everything.”
Alberto smiled faintly. “It is what I do.”
Selene leaned closer. “We owe you our lives.”
Alberto shook his head. “You owe me nothing. But I still have to find the soul shepherd. And the crystalberry pods. The full moon is coming.”
Ronan’s expression grew serious. “We will help.”
Alberto looked at them all. “Thank you.”