The Full Tree Festival dawned upon them.
Aralyn woke that morning with a sheer determination burning through her veins like fire. She promised herself that once Phoebe's pearl was returned, she would leave the town as soon as she could.
She showered and baked breakfast; a carrot cake. Sitting by the kitchen counter, she enjoyed it slowly, sipping on her pearl milk tea. A warm, fuzzy feeling crept up the back of her neck as an uninvited thought surfaced–how warm Noah was, how his scent seemed to calm her.
Her cheeks flushed as she remembered the way he had wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close to hide her from his dad. The memory tightened something in her chest–small, but undeniably comforting.
Then, a flash of memory washed over her.
"Over here!"
He grabbed Aralyn's hand and pulled her under the staircase. She stumbled into his chest, a shy smile blooming in the dim light. He carefully lifted the edge of her dress to keep it from getting wet, earning a soft smile from her as they crouched down silently.
A group of people gathered just beyond the staircase, some holding gas lamps. Their expressions were hard, their eyes scanning the gloomy alley.
"You sure they ran this way, Chrissie?" one of them asked. The girl nodded vigorously.
"I'm sure of it. That little girlfriend of his is valuable. Might get us a hundred bucks each for that weird neck of hers," she sneered, spitting onto the wet pavement.
"Let's go, men! Think of the money!" they laughed, their voices fading as they moved away.
They waited for ten minutes. Only then did he lean closer, his fingers brushing under her chin. "Wait here. I'll go first."
Aralyn grabbed his arm, stopping him.
"No," she whispered. "What if they come back? I don't want you to get caught."
He smiled–that smile she had fallen in love with–his thumb stroking her cheek gently.
"No one on this earth could ever catch what was yours, Lyn," he said with a confidence that made her stomach twist in the best way.
Aralyn smiled faintly, her fingers tracing the marks along her neck. The warmth Noah had shown her felt eerily similar to his. She shoved the thought down as far as she could.
"No one would have the same passion like you do," she whispered, her voice breaking as tears gathered in her eyes. She let them fall freely.
She missed him very much than she allowed herself to admit. The only man in her coven who had ever cared for who she was, not what she was.
However, one question remained afloat in her mind–where did Nathaniel Brooks obtain such salt? Because that was not an everyday salt people used in their daily cooking. This one had been enchanted, a spell cast upon it to "protect" the house–if based on what Noah had said–but in truth, its purpose was to siphon the soul, piece by piece.
Regardless of their intention–to rid the bad things–it always came at a cost. It always took from the human soul, in one way or another.
And yet, that salt carried a faint residue of power. One that emanated from the only person capable of casting such a spell among the rest of the coven.
Aralyn sighed deeply. If that was true, then why couldn't she locate them? Or, even worse, they had found her first and kept quiet about it?
No, it can't be. Unless they didn't want to be found.
Her thoughts flew to Noah. What if his dad was one of them? But Nathaniel applied it to himself as well, with all those candles and salts she saw back at Noah's home.
The rules of her coven were still clear as day. The initiate members would be required to do their daily affirmations using salt, candles, and anything related to the elements of nature.
Her head tilted in wonder. Could it be Nathaniel was only an initiate?
"I have to tell Noah," she said as she stood abruptly, cleaning the kitchen. Annoying as he was, she couldn't let his soul become their food source. After all, he was helping her with her quest this far.
Grabbing the scarf on her way and wrapping it around her neck, she made sure she didn't bring anything heavy in her sling bag. She opened the door–only to almost collide into someone's chest.
"Ah!!!"
"Ow!!"
Her forehead butted his chin quite hard. Both of them rubbed the sore spots.
"Ugh, remind me to bring a helmet next time," he groaned. "Where you off to?"
"Knock the damn door, will you?" she said, about to add more when he leaned closer.
"You're okay?" he asked, peering at her. Her heart soared to the clouds. The words stuck in her throat. "Thirty minutes until the festival," he added, glancing at his watch.
Aralyn stepped aside to let him in and closed the door behind them. He quickly sniffed the air.
"Is this... carrot?" he asked, pointing vaguely.
Aralyn only nodded, sinking onto the armchair.
Noah sat opposite her. "After this whole quest with Phoebe," he started, "will you go to the festival with me?"
Aralyn remained quiet, her hands fidgeting on her lap, her gaze lowered. "I don't know, Noah."
"Well, technically you still need to go," he said with a crooked smile, raising a finger. "Because you said okay to Mrs. Collin. Don't think I didn't hear that, and she's not gonna be happy if you bail."
She averted her gaze to the neatly arranged bookshelf. One silly crown stood out from the rest.
"A little birdie told me through the grapevine that the day after the festival, everyone was exhausted and experienced an extreme case of fatigue. Were you one of them?" she questioned.
"I guess," he said casually. "But I blame it on the days of preparation. And the booze. You need to join us, Scarf. Partying with them all night is a blast."
The warm invitation from Mrs. Collin–so insistent for three years–clashed with Rowan's warning and Elena's cautiousness. On top of that, she recalled how shy Patrick was when he told her she should wear the crown when she came. It chipped away at her resolve to stay away, bit by bit, melting the walls she had built for years.
It was nice. It felt nice. To be noticed, to be invited.
Noah didn't miss the way her eyes flickered with nervousness–no, more like pure fear. He tilted his head and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, brows knitting in concern. "Hey, what's wrong?"
"Nothing. It's nothing," she said in a small voice, but Noah nodded once toward her hands that were still fiddling.
"That's not nothing. Talk to me, please," he said, softer this time.
Aralyn met his gaze, and that was when Noah truly saw the fear in her eyes.
"Why do you trust me, Noah?"
"Huh?" He was thrown off guard. "What do you mean?"
"When I told you to throw the dreamcatcher and the salt, you just did. Without question," she said.
Noah leaned back, eyes on the ceiling. "I chose to."
"But why?"
He heaved a deep sigh. "I don't know. I just did."
"Where I came from, that's called stupidity. I'm a witch, Noah. What makes you think you can trust a witch?" she demanded, then added, "And what possibly can you gain from helping me?"
Aralyn had thought she had witnessed all kinds of fury and anger from anyone she met, but Noah showed the opposite. A cold, hard-steel gaze emanated from his gray eyes that–eventually–made her flinch for the very first time.
"When I choose who to trust, I just do. Whatever their backstory was, it has nothing to do with how I put my trust in them. A witch or not, I don't fucking care. If you really are the creature you think you're supposed to be, you wouldn't let me or the twins come inside, nor would you say okay when Mrs. Collin invited you to the festival," he said icily. "Or even tell me about the salt and that stupid dreamcatcher. If you're really that kind of witch, you wouldn't even bother telling me those things."
"For the record, I chose to trust you because I wanted to. I chose to help because I wanted to—not because I wanted anything in return. How selfish do you think I am, Aralyn?" His voice turned raw with anger and hurt. "I'm not some kind of jerk who demands favors back just because I helped someone."
He scoffed, his smile forced and almost taunting. "Would you believe me if I say I help because it's fun?"
Aralyn blinked. "Fun?"
"Yep. This beats anything I did while on the road with my friends. With you, I keep finding new things. If we hadn't met in Maple, I wouldn't even know the twins had a cool superpower, or get to know the strongest witch of all time." He gave her a sad smile and continued, "I would never hurt you, Aralyn, nor will I let anyone hurt you as long as I'm still breathing."
Her lungs felt like the air had been knocked out of them completely. Her lips parted slightly in surprise. That's what he said before...
Aralyn's vision blurred within seconds, and she looked away, wiping her eyes harshly with the back of her hand. "You're just saying that because I'm a witch," she retorted weakly, but Noah gave her a smile that reached his eyes.
"I told you, witch or not, I still trust you. Besides, what harm could you possibly do to me?" he said, a challenge laced in his tone, smirking at her. "You're gonna bind me like what Harry Potter did?"
"Harry... what?"
He closed his eyes, groaning in frustration. "We really should watch a movie together. Oh, where's the pearl?"
Aralyn fished the pearl out from her sling bag and held it up for him to see.
"Great," he said, glancing at his watch again. "It's time."