A River Enchanted (Elements of Cadence, #1)

by Rebecca Ross

Give it to the soil, child. It was a phrase Senga had said countless times in the past. Sidra rose, unsteady for a moment. The shed was still in the corner of the yard, its door draped in cobwebs. She stepped inside and found it exactly as it had been years ago before she left. Seeds were still hiding in a small sack; she took a handful and carried them back to the garden. Sidra dug into the soil, angry. It was strong enough to bear her ire, and she raked her fingers through the loam. Digging trenches with her nails, she gave to the ground the words You should have fought harder. “I fought as hard as I could, and I’m still strong,” she said. She dropped the seeds into the furrows and added more words: You failed Torin and Maisie. These words were harder to relinquish. She was still waiting on a promise that she didn’t know would be fulfilled or not. She was waiting for Maisie to come home, and it might not happen. She was waiting to discover if Torin loved her in the way she loved him. Her grief welling, Sidra stared at the seeds she had dropped, waiting for earth and rain and time to transform them. “There is no failure in love,” she said and covered the furrows. The soil was rich; it swallowed a portion of her grief. “And I have loved without measure.” In this, I am complete.