Blue Blood (Series of Blood Book 3) by Emma Hamm (books to read this summer .txt) 📕

You’ll be able to find it easily. And once you do, look for the vanilla scented white flowers.”

Mercy knew very little about plants. In her experience, killing them was much easier than growing them. But for Priscilla, she would do anything.

She nodded. “All right. I’ll be back soon then.”

Some strange emotion sparkled in Priscilla’s eyes. She waved a hand. “Oh take your time, dear.”

Frowning, Mercy walked through the field towards the edge of the forest. She barely had time to enjoy the sound of birds chirping before Ignes stuck his head out of her shirt.

“You can take your shoes off now, you know,” he said.

She paused. Her red hair tickled her cheeks as the wind danced around her. “That’s a wonderful idea.”

Mercy smiled when she leaned down to take her shoes off. She left them in the field with plans to find them later, just for another excuse to roll in the waves of wheat.

“It’s so green, Ignes.” Her whisper was carried by the breeze towards the heavens.

“Strange,” Ignes muttered. His tongue flicked out to taste the air. “I’m not used to it.”

“You’re more used to it than I. You were out and about while I remained in the Dreaming World.”

“True, but this tastes different than the forest.”

“You’ve been here too!” She laughed as her toes squelched in the mud. “You’ve been to all of these places without me.”

“Not the same,” he told her. “Without you, I was just a flame. I was weak by the time I made it here. I wasn’t enjoying the scenery.”

“The pictures you showed me in the flames just don’t do it justice. I forgot what the real world looked like.”

“And how dangerous it is.”

Mercy reached up to tap him on the forehead. “Enough of that. I don’t want to think about bad things today.”

“But the Shadow Man was in our tent just a few nights ago—”

“And he hasn’t returned,” she interrupted. “He said he was a friend. And after the warning he gave us, I’m inclined to trust him. I don’t make it a habit to trust just anyone, you know.”

They both fell silent as she picked her way through milkweed. Great puffs of white seeds erupted from every bulb she touched. They bobbed up and down before her as though they were tiny Fairies.

She refused to think about the Fairy who had hardly said a word to her since the night she kissed him. Mercy vividly remembered the feel of him against her skin. Yet he didn’t even glance her way.

Perhaps she was wrong about the mystery woman. He still called out to her in his sleep. Mercy wasn’t so disconnected that she didn’t know what that could mean. Maybe he was still in love with his mystery woman and had lied to her.

A milkweed seed landed upon her nose.

“Right.” She laughed and brushed it away. “We’re not thinking bad thoughts today.”

“Last one,” Ignes said. “Do you think they set up enough protection?”

“I don’t think anyone could get through their spells. The shield will hold, Tiny will keep watch, no one will ever know we were here. Or that they are here.”

Ignes tucked himself back into her shirt with a quiet huff, and it was almost as though she were alone again. The edge of the forest loomed before Mercy, but it did not unnerve her. The great trees knew she was a danger to them. Their roots would remain deeply embedded in the ground and would not attack her.

Her bare feet transferred from hard packed earth to moss. The cool shade of the forest was a balm to her heated skin. She was always warmer than the average person, but even she felt the effects of the blistering sun.

She paused and listened for the burbling of water. The river wasn’t far from the edge of the forest. The other creatures had spoken of its gentle flow and how the water was warm enough to swim in. Mercy wasn’t eager to be close to the dreaded substance, but she was excited to see it.

Water was a double-edged sword for her. It was life sustaining; even a Phoenix had to drink. But it could also kill her if she was submerged for too long.

Mercy wasn’t even sure she could swim anymore.

There it was, the quiet sound of rushing water. It tickled her ears, coming from nearby.

“So the others were right,” she murmured.

Her feet sank ankle-deep into the thick green moss. Everything around her was mint colored and earthen scented. The green she had so desired throughout her sleep was now at her fingertips. The beauty was not lost upon Mercy.

Every time she walked past a particularly large tree, and that was nearly every tree, she reached out to touch it. It was an apology for the tree she had harmed, a thank you for guiding her back to this place.

The yellow dress Priscilla had given her today was little more than a sarong. Mercy had twisted it around her neck and left the ends free to tangle around her tan legs. Dirty handprints marred the fabric, but they could be cleaned — if Ignes didn’t burn the dress first. Giving Mercy anything meant to last was a mistake.

Her eyes lingered upon small details in the forest around her. A tiny brown bird hopped along a long branch. Sounds of leaves rattling startled her for a moment before she laughed. A squirrel with rainbow colored fur chattered at her from high up in the canopy.

There were details here she had never gotten right in the Dream World. She wasn’t surprised by it. Eventually, her memories of the real world had diminished and her mind had filled in the gaps with whatever it could imagine. Seeing the pieces she had missed was a blessing she had never expected to be gifted.

Her palm was abraded by the harsh bark of the trees, something she had never gotten right in her dream. She had made them smooth as sandstone, but they were not. She appreciated their roughness. Somehow,