Page 18 of Thorn & Ash
“You sing for other souls,” Mona argued. “Why not me? Maybe that will help with this situation.”
Evander ran a hand through his hair, and Mona stared at it. The strands were mostly silver, but inky black streaks lined them like stripes. His hair was long but didn’t quite fall past his chin. Mona had the insane urge to run her fingers through his hair and determine if it was as soft as it looked.
Stupid, she chided herself. Not only was that wildly inappropriate, but she couldn’t even move her hands, so the thought was altogether foolish.
“Yes,” Evander said at last with a heavy exhale. “You’re right. We should exercise every avenue to determine how to solve the problem.”
Mona’s mind perked up at his assessment. It felt like when she sought answers in books. The process of elimination was a sure way to prove if a theory was correct or not.
She tried to stifle her excitement at the prospect of Evander singing to her. She’d heard songs before, of course. Some witches in the coven performed during seances or rituals, and it was a really beautiful experience.
But she had never heard a man sing before. Not really. There was Erasmus, the elderly man who lived next-door and sometimes sang whimsical songs for the children. But that was nothing serious. His wizened voice was endearing, but nothing breathtaking like the female voices Mona had heard.
Male witches were rare, and on a small island like Krenia, they were nonexistent. As such, Mona never had opportunities to enjoy a proper male vocal performance.
Her insides thrummed with anticipation.
But Evander didn’t move. His brows were lowered as he stared hard at the river.
“What’s wrong?” Mona asked.
He shook his head as if she’d woken him from a stupor. “Nothing. Nothing. It’s just… been a while since I’ve done this.” Color stained his cheeks. Goddess above, was he blushing? It was… strangely adorable watching this enigmatic man act flustered. Mona couldn’t help but smile.
Evander drew closer until his feet rested on the bank. He paused, then stepped into the river, drawing closer to Mona.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“It helps if I’m close to the soul so I can sense your aura.”
My aura? Mona didn’t like the idea of him probing even further into her soul, but she didn’t object. Her insides squirmed, and she longed to fidget or shift around, but of course, she couldn’t. So instead, she settled with working her jaw back and forth and gnawing on her lower lip. At least she could manage these little actions.
And then, quite suddenly, Evander was singing.
Mona stopped her restless movements and stared open-mouthed at him. His eyes were closed, his eyebrows lifted, and his expression fully relaxed as a haunting melody poured from his lips. His voice rang out, echoing in the forest and sending a whisper of power against Mona’s skin. She sighed with part contentment and part awe as his voice washed over her like a gentle breeze. The song stirred something deep within her, something familiar and yet lost. Something long since forgotten.
Her throat tickled, and then Mona found herself singing along with him, her voice blending perfectly with his. The notes changed, and she followed a harmony, the counterpart to his melody. Their music weaved together, hers rising as his fell, and then back to the middle once more. Their tunes crisscrossed like two dancers twisting about. He moved, she followed, and then they moved together.
Mona’s eyes closed as the song encompassed her, filling her very soul with energy. The melody sang of sorrow and distress, of loss and grief. It filled her with an aching yearning, a pit of agony. Her voice climbed higher and higher, the final note ringing out and echoing vastly in the space around them.
Even after their song stopped, the final note still rang, burning in Mona’s ears. She opened her eyes and gasped to find Evander’s hand clasped within hers.
Her solid hand, made of flesh and bone.
His skin felt soothing against hers, filling her with strength. Her skin warmed, her blood heating from the close contact. Evander stood only a breath away, gazing at her with the same wonder and surprise that she felt. His scent enveloped her, something between pine and evergreen, with the hint of musk that was so distinctly masculine that it made her toes curl. Her breaths turned sharp, and she marveled that she could breathe at all. As she gazed downward, most of her body remained a wispy translucent form… but her hand. Her hand was really here. Touching Evander.
She thought of the last time he’d tried to touch her, when she’d burned him. Now, the opposite had occurred: his touch had grounded her.
“It seems you’re right,” Evander said in a soft murmur. “It appears your song is the key to this problem.” His mouth quirked slightly with the ghost of a smile, and Mona’s breath caught in her throat.
Just as suddenly, Mona’s hand slipped free of his, all warmth leaving her body. Icy coldness replaced it, and Mona was a floating spirit once more. She shifted and strained, but she couldn’t move her arm, as much as she longed to take his hand in hers once more. Despair filled her, but Evander’s eyes were full of hope.
“This is good,” he assured her. “We have a clue to follow.”
Mona’s heart lightened at his words. A mystery is nothing but unsolved clues. A collection of puzzle pieces to assemble. It was something her mother, Polina, always used to say.
Mona opened her mouth to respond when a voice echoed in her mind. She froze, glancing around for the source of the voice. Evander’s eyes were on her, his expression curious.
“Do you hear that?” Mona asked.