The Sisters of Nowhere

f o r t y : e c l i p s e

The leaves were restless. The ground was electric with energy. Everything was holding its breath.

Marigold could feel it--the anticipation-- seeping into her soul.

It was familiar now.

When she'd come to the forest with Silas, something else had happened besides her out-of-body experience above the trees. The forest had shown her--no, made her feel--its power.

Had all of that only been hours ago? She remembered coming back to reality when Silas had told her that the forest was being murdered. As they were going back home, he'd raced far ahead of her, leaving her behind in the forest.

That was when it happened, this revelation. Marigold had stopped in her tracks, thinking that she was seeing things.

She was not seeing things. She was, however, feeling the power of Gwydyr.

All at once, she'd understood why so much blood had been shed to gain entrance into this very ground. Gwydyr didn't promise money or love or happiness--it provided being. It was a simple thing, really, but Marigold had never felt so free, so content. It was as if she was exactly where she needed to be, without anything pulling her in different directions. She was there, in that moment, and that was enough. She didn't need money or love or happiness.

A voice, as tiny and faint as a whisper, said, Help us and be free.

She craved that feeling again, that freedom.

But once the moment ended, she remembered her responsibilities. The one to Wyatt. The one to the ghosts. The one to the forest.

She'd gone back to the barn and found out that she wasn't the only one who kept secrets. Her parents had kept a special purple robe all this time without telling her, but she couldn't dwell on it now.

Now she had to focus If she wanted to keep Gwydyr in Nowhere.

And so she followed Silas deeper into the woods with her sisters close behind.

"The eclipse is in thirty minutes," Ophelia reminded them as if they needed it.

The something, something, something was growing with every passing moment. If the air had a heartbeat, it would have been quickening.

"We're almost to the center," Silas explained.

Marigold didn't know if it was because of her encounter with the forest, but she swore she could feel the ground pulsing beneath her feet as if she were connected to it directly. She could feel its pull guiding her and she thought that if Silas wasn't leading, she'd know where to go.

The stars, too, were brighter than usual and illuminated the nonexistent path as they went.

Marigold kept looking out into the darkness, hoping that around each corner she'd spot Wyatt.

Wyatt.

Her heart ached and fluttered and sunk. Was this what love felt like? Marigold didn't think so. She liked Wyatt in the same way the sun loved the sky--smitten by coexistence and the hope of becoming something more.

Was that all there was to it? If so, then maybe she was in love. Either way, Marigold did not fancy seeing her true-or-not-true-love murdered by his own brother.

And so she kept walking.

Birdie was oddly quiet. Even her footsteps were uncharacteristically passionless.