Page 81 of Apples Dipped in Gold
“This will do,” the fox announced. “Make a fire beneath those shrubs, and burn the witch’s eyes. The ashes will tell us where to go.”
I hesitated, watching Samara continue on, up the grassy hill and out of sight. I dropped the satchel to the ground and started to follow her, but the fox stopped me.
“Where are you going, Prince of Nightshade?”
“I no longer care about the eyes or the wishing tree,” I said. “What value do they hold when all they will do is take my beloved from me?”
“Are you saying you no longer believe you are cursed, prince?” he asked. “Or are you saying you are content to be cursed?”
I hesitated. I did not know exactly what I was saying, I only knew that when I thought of a life without Samara, it was not a life I wanted to live.
“Think carefully before you choose to end this journey,” said the fox. “For your beloved has made sacrifices in your name. Would you have her do so in vain?”
“Of course not,” I said, frustrated by the fox’s question.
“Then burn the eyes, Prince of Poison.”
I ground my teeth and set to work, building a small fire beneath the thickest green shrubs, hoping to conceal most of the smoke. I had no idea where Samara’s brothers might be in relation to us, and despite having set the witch’s cottage on fire, I did not want to give away our current location. While I had failed to protect her from the old woman’s evil, I would not fail to protect her from her brothers.
Once the fire blazed, I tossed the eyes into the flames. They were still sticky and wet, and they sizzled until they popped. The fire hissed in retaliation, and the smell made my stomach turn, but I watched them until the fire died. When they were cool, the fox instructed me to pour water over them.
As I did, he watched.
I wondered what he saw in the remains, because all I could make out were ashes swirling. After a few seconds, he gave a soft hum and spoke.
“The wishing tree will appear in a valley surrounded by the Glass Mountains.”
I could not deny the dread I felt at the mention of the Glass Mountains, and it reinforced my belief in my curse. The mountains were vengeful, and they had cursed many of my brothers. Why would I be any different?
“Which valley?” I asked. The Glass Mountains went on for miles and miles.
“The moon will let us know,” said the fox. “The question you must answer, dear prince, is how will you spend this final night.”
Final night.
Those words tore through me.
I did not want a final night with Samara. I wanted many nights—many like the one we’d had last night, but would that be possible on the other side of this broken curse? Right now, I could not imagine feeling anything less for Samara than I felt now. I could not imagine a world without her. She was everything to me—the sun rose and set with her, and the moon waxed and waned with her.
She was the love of my life and even if she broke the curse, that would still be true.
The fox curled up on the ground to sleep while I made my way up the hill where I found Samara sitting, her knees pulled tight to her chest. She was surrounded by tulips, the petals of which seemed to glow pale blue beneath the starlight. As I stared at her from a distance, I remembered the day I’d first laid eyes on her and how she had ensnared me. It was not even her beauty, which was so plainly evident, that hurt my heart. It was what radiated from within her—a kindness I had never seen, a patience I had never endured. Still, she showed these things to me, though I did not deserve them, but tonight I was going to ask for both again as I approached and sat down beside her.
She did not look at me, keeping her head tilted toward the sky.
“Have you learned where we will go next?” she asked, her voice light.
I did not know what to make of it, but I answered her question.
“Yes.”
She said nothing, and in the quiet that followed, I gathered the courage to speak.
“I do not want to find the wishing tree,” I said.
She looked at me. “Why?”
“Because I do not want to live without you,” I said.
