by Bailey Dark
Sadal glowers at me but stays silent, nursing his swollen lip. Cleo joins us again, quiet. Her eyes are red, making the pale blue an even more vibrant shade. She doesn’t shed a tear, I didn’t expect her to. But she keeps her distance from her groom as we get started again.
Exhaustion already weighs heavily on me, and it’s only the first day. I glance between the different members of my little troupe and grimace. I couldn’t have banded together a more unconventional, contentious group if I had tried. I sigh. And this is only the beginning.
As the sun starts to set, I call to make camp. We tie our horses to nearby trees and pitch tents, keeping Sadal in the middle and within view. I don’t bother joining the others for dinner, at this point, I can hardly stand to be around any of them. I want peace and quiet and dreams of Verity. Waving over my shoulder, I crawl into my small tent and onto the sleeping mat. Crickets chirp outside, night birds chorusing with them. If I didn’t know Sadal and Erzur were outside the thin canvas walls I might even call it peaceful.
I nestle into the pillow, thoughts drifting to Verity. I think of all the times I found her reading in the gardens, dressed in over-sized tunics and trousers, her hair pulled into a simple braid. A smile creeps to my lips. She was always so beautiful, and she was witty without ulterior motives. Verity was simply Verity. I would give almost anything to go back to those first weeks after the curse was broken and find a way to make her happy. To stop her from falling for Sadal’s illusions.
Suddenly, the door to the tent rustles and I feel the mat shift as Erzur puts her weight on it. I turn, narrowing my eyes but she only smirks. Her long fingers play over my hip and I feel a thrill of electricity at her light, playful touch. I scowl, trying to drive it away.
“What are you doing here, Erzur?” I growl.
“I thought you might enjoy more intimate company,” she purrs, almond eyes flashing with a wicked promise.
I swallow hard. “No,” I say firmly. “I want to sleep. Please go.”
“I haven’t a tent of my own,” she pouts.
“I don’t care. Sleep anywhere but here.” I turn my back on her and close my eyes.
Erzur doesn’t budge and I sigh, frustration building in my gut. Her presence drives away the comforting thoughts of Verity, my precious memories with her. I don’t want Erzur to contaminate them. I ignore her, hoping she’ll leave eventually. But even when sleep takes me, I can still feel her eyes on me.
Watching.
Chapter 10
Verity
“This,” Serus says, his voice as silky as always, “Is a bad idea.”
“I agree with the cat,” Thal mutters, shifting in his saddle.
I eye them both. “Altair needs our help.”
Serus knows I’m right, I’ve told him of my other dreams. In each, I’m in the ether, wandering in the darkness before a Shade seeks me out. I know it isn’t the same one each time, they have little, insignificant differences between them. Not even Serus knows how many there are. But I know he’s afraid of them. And that frightens me.
Thal leans forward in his saddle. “Here they come.”
I straighten nervously, stomach fluttering with butterflies. It’s been a week since I saw Altair and convinced Thal to come with me to the pass to the wastelands. I’ve craved his touch every night, his arrogant smiles. Now that I can see him once again, I feel as if it means so much more.
I hear them before I see them. Horses neigh and I hear the wheels of a wagon. And then he crests the hill. Framed by sunlight, Altair surveys the pass on his midnight-black mount. My heart surges with happiness and doubt at the sight of him. The others are like shadows in comparison to him, even Erzur is meaningless. I clutch my reins tighter as they approach. In the shadows of the mountain, I can make them out better.
Moritz dips his head in acknowledgement, and I wonder if I see a flicker of amusement in his eyes. Erzur sniffs, looking down her nose at us and Thal shifts beside me. I can practically feel the anger radiating off of him. When my eyes fall on my mother, I look away quickly. I can’t face her right now, and worse, I don’t want to. The wagon is nothing more than a cage on wheels, and inside sits Sadal. He looks greasy and thin, but I don’t feel any sympathy for him.
“What are you doing here?” Altair asks, his voice laced with surprise.
“We want to go with you,” I say, lifting my chin and daring him to turn me down. “You’ll need us.”
“You’ll need her,” Thal corrects, looking pointedly at me. “And you could always use another sword in a place like the wastelands.”
“Need you?” Erzur quips, tossing her curly locks over her shoulder. “Why?”
“I’ve seen them,” I say, meeting her gaze stubbornly. I’m stronger now than I was before. I’m not just the mortal. And while Thal has been training my physical body, Serus has helped me improve my magic. I straighten my shoulders.
“You’ve seen them?” Altair cocks a brow. “How?”
“I dream,” I say softly.
Erzur snorts. “The dreams of a child.”
Thal shoots her a glare. “The dreams of a Bloodbane witch.”
She purses her lips. Altair cuts his eyes towards her and lays a hand on her forearm, as if to soothe her. I hide a grimace and push away my pain, deep into my chest where I’ll hide it forever. Altair finally meets my eyes. “You can’t come.”
“But you said – ” I start, hurt lashing through me.
“I know what I said,” he barks. “I was wrong. It’s too dangerous.”
Altair swings off his saddle and starts undoing the coupling holding Sadal’s prison to the horse. Moritz and the soldier join him, separating the two and unlocking Sadal’s cage. I watch, thinking of more arguments to make, as they release Sadal. He stands shakily, but gives me a wry smile, as if we’re the best of friends sharing a secret. I scowl.
“Altair,” Thal says, drawing his attention. “We won’t take no for an answer. You might forbid us from joining your party, but we’ll trail along behind you anyway.”
Altair sighs at Thal’s grin. His eyes dart towards me. “You’re certain?”
I feel Serus pounce onto my shoulder and I nod. “I’m certain.”
“Then I suppose I have no choice.” Altair grins softly, a secret smile for us.
Erzur scoffs. “You can’t be serious.”
“I believe,” Moritz cuts in, “That your fiancé has spoken.”
Erzur purses her lips and glowers at Moritz but the other King doesn’t back down. I balk, realizing for the first time the powerful company I keep. I catch Sadal’s eye and he dips his chin towards Serus on my shoulder. A wide smile slips across his face.
“Not many witches keep familiars anymore,” he says lightly, almost like a compliment. “It’s very old, powerful magic. It takes a strong witch to bind one to her.”
“Don’t speak to her,” Altair barks, glaring at Sadal.
I press my lips into a thin line, discomfort and suspicion roiling in my gut. Serus’s amber eyes are locked on Sadal and I feel him rumble angrily, warningly. “He chose me,” I say, eyeing Altair so he knows I’m alright.
Sadal’s smile broadens. “They only choose the strong ones. Imagine what a powerful couple we could have been. If only you had let me fuck you when you had the chance. I could have made you an empress.”
His words feel like a bucket of ice water has been poured over my head. There’s a blur of black and suddenly Sadal goes flying. He grunts as Altair straddles him. My Fae King drives his fists into Sadal’s face, blood arcing through the air and coating his knuckles already. Sadal laughs between each blow, which only seems to fuel Altair’s anger. I swing off my horse, pain in my chest at the sight of so much anger.
Moritz leans forward in the saddle, watching the one-sided fight with piercing eyes. I run to Altair, panic in my gut. Erzur only laughs, clapping her hands as Altair swings again. I hear bone crunch, and Sadal’s laughter begins to fade.
My hand closes around Altair’s
shoulder and I tug at him, trying to pull him away from Sadal. “Stop,” I pant. “It isn’t worth it.”
I tug once more and Altair grunts, trying to wrench his arm out of my grasp. His elbow flies back and I feel a flood of pain as it connects with my nose. I yelp, stumbling backwards as my hands go to my nose. Blood pours freely between my fingers and I taste it in my mouth. Altair freezes at the sound of my pain and whirls around. His eyes go wide with shock and guilt. He reaches for me, but I flinch away, still shocked by the sudden strike.
“Verity, I’m sorry,” he says, forgetting Sadal.
I feel Thal’s arms slip around my shoulders and he lifts my chin up. “Let me see,” he orders gently. He urges my hands away and I obey reluctantly. I hiss in pain as he studies my swollen nose.
“How is it?” I ask, voice muffled and garbled. I taste blood.
“Not broken,” he says. His green eyes rest on Altair behind me and they go hard. “Control yourself.”
I glance over my shoulder as Thal leads me back to my horse. He passes me a cloth to staunch the flow of blood. Altair’s brows are crumpled, his eyes filled with guilt. I grimace.
Slowly, the group reorganizes, and Sadal is helped onto a horse. He grins through the blood and swollen, split lips. “What a way to start the day,” he chirps.
I furrow my brows at the mad man and almost feel sorry for him. If Altair hadn’t accidentally struck me and stopped beating Sadal, he could have killed him. We start through the pass, Thal leading the way since he’s travelled it before. I hang back, a little behind him and try not to frown when Altair rides to my side.
“I’m sorry,” he says under his breath. I can hear the shame in his voice. “I didn’t mean to. But what Sadal said,” he hesitates, “I couldn’t forgive it.”
“I know,” I murmur.
“Is your nose alright?” He asks hopefully.
I try not to smile. “It’s fine, a little sore. Thal says it will feel better soon since I will start to heal like the Fae.”
“He’s right,” Altair says, a hint of jealousy in his voice.
Thal slows and twists in his saddle to look at us. He forces a smile, but I see the anxiety in his green eyes. “Welcome to the wastelands,” he says, sweeping his arms wide.
I peer around him and gasp as the wastelands unfold before us. Deep orange and vibrant shades of red explode across the landscape. The sky is a bland brownish gray color, covered in clouds and storms of sand. It’s almost completely flat, broken up only by the short plateaus that level out the land. A thin, pale line snakes through the red and orange stone and soil; the old merchant highway. To the right, I can already see a few spires of old ruins, long buried in the sand.
A gust of wind stirs up the sand in the entrance of the pass, blowing it into our faces as the wind howls through the rocks. I shudder. Suddenly, the vibrant land isn’t beautiful anymore. It looks like a tomb. Thal stiffens his shoulders and his hand strays instinctively to his sword. I bite my lip and swallow hard. Travelling through the wastelands in search of the Shades doesn’t seem like such a wise idea anymore.
I feel gentle fingers graze my shoulder and turn to see Altair smile reassuringly at me. He lowers his voice, so only I can hear. “It will be alright.”
I smile, wincing as pain flushes through my nose. Altair starts forward, passing Thal. He leaves behind the safe rock walls of the pass and steps into the open space of the wastelands. The wind howls louder. Next the old Bloodbane follows, smiling and at ease. I tell myself that this is her home, and if she’s at peace, then it can’t be as bad as it seems.
Reluctantly, Thal and I follow, the others at our heels. I swallow thickly, biting back the fear that wells in my gut. I have no need to be afraid, I tell myself as I stare out at the sandstorms on the horizon. I’m a Bloodbane witch with magic and spells at my disposal, and I’m surrounded by the most powerful Fae on the continent. If I’m safe anywhere, it will be here.
I glance over my shoulder as I urge my horse further into the wastelands. The mountain almost seems to close up behind us, sealing us in, but I know it’s just a trick of the light. I bite my lip. I hope.
Chapter 11
Altair
The wastelands are not kind. Wind rages almost constantly across the flat landscape, and when it doesn’t, there’s an eerie sense of eyes constantly watching. I watch as Moritz stokes a fire to life in our campsite. He’s layered on the scarves and cloaks thickly as the night wore on, and now that the sun has set, the real chill has set in.
I take a bite of the jerky and bread we packed for the journey, eyes roving over the camp. We set up in the shadows a small ruin, just a few columns poking out of the red sand. A boulder sits a ways from camp, shining silver in the light of the moon. Our tents circle the fire, two sleeping mats laid out under the stars for Verity and Thal. I scowl at how close they’ve been laid, within arm’s reach of each other.
Pain and guilt flash through my chest as I spy Verity across the fire. Her nose isn’t swollen any longer, and the blood stains have been washed away by Thal’s gentle hands. I curl my hand into a fist unconsciously, jealousy rippling in my heart like a palpitation. Verity tosses her head back, laughing at something Thal says to her. I look away sharply, unable to stand it any longer.
I gave her up, I remind myself harshly. If she finds comfort, perhaps even more than comfort in another man, how can I be jealous? I grimace, grinding my teeth together. It would be best if that man weren’t my cousin. I almost laugh as I remember what Thal told me during Summer’s Eve, when I left Verity behind to finish important work; ‘someone might be there to pick up the pieces when you break her.’ He meant him. The bastard.
Pressure builds in my skull and I feel the curse swelling inside me. I squeeze my eyes shut and turn away from the flames to hide in the shadows. Not now. I can't do this now. But my anger fed into the power, and now I’m scrambling to back away from the threshold. I take a deep breath, pushing Verity and Thal from my mind. I clear my thoughts, letting comforting emptiness blanket my frustration. The pressure eases, the curse oozing back into the little seedling in my chest.
“We should all get some rest,” the old Bloodbane intones, waddling towards her tent. “It will be a tough journey tomorrow.”
Erzur purses her lips, adjusting her cloak. “I don’t take orders from the likes of you.”
“It was merely a suggestion,” the old Bloodbane says, smiling.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes at Erzur, grinding my teeth silently instead. The old witch disappears into her tent and slowly the Fae around the fireplace drift away. I rise, dusting off my trousers and head towards the perimeter to keep watch for the night. During the day as we travelled, we saw no signs of life out here, but I’m not taking any chances – not with Verity in the camp.
I take up a position near the dusty columns and lean against one. I sigh, shoulders sagging. I keep up the facade that I’m the confident, strong King, but I feel sapped and useless. I couldn’t have won the war against Sadal without Moritz, Haru, or Erzur. I was useless without them, without Verity. I drag a hand over my jaw, groaning. How can I be this man any longer? Perhaps it’s best if I let the curse consume me. Perhaps Alnembra would be better under new leadership. After all, what I have brought my people beyond stagnation and now death?
The night looms on, and the fire dies to embers behind me. I turn my head to the stars; the night sky is lit brilliantly with millions of twinkling lights suspended overhead. They almost outshine the moon. I hear a soft scuff behind me and turn sharply, searching for the source of the noise. Across the fire, I see Verity. She’s sitting on the boulder, her knees pulled up to her chest. My heart pounds at the sight of her, draped in the silver, milky light of the moon.
I press my lips into a thin line, debating whether or not I should approach her. She may not want me to intrude. The hesitation reminds me of the early days of Verity’s capture. Gods, it seems like a lifetime ago. I should forget her, let her move on from me. I
t will help me too, to separate my life from hers. But I can’t. I feel it in my gut, a deep need to be at her side. It’s not something that will ever go away.
Silently, I walk towards her, circling the camp so I don’t disturb the other travelers. If she notices me coming, she doesn’t show it. I settle next to her, the chill of the boulder seeping through my clothes. She slips her eyes towards me, but I can’t read them in the darkness. My heart swells in my chest as my shoulder grazes hers and I feel a small shock of electricity.
“Do you plan to keep watch all night?” She whispers, turning her gaze back to the stars. “Or will someone relieve you?”
“I just want to make sure you’re safe,” I say softly. I watch her profile and notice a slight flush to her porcelain cheeks.
“And everyone else.” She bites her bottom lip. I don’t answer, I merely smile at her even though her eyes are on the sky. She sighs, shifting, and I notice goosebumps on her skin. “The stars are different here than in the human world.”
“I’ve heard of the Milky Way,” I say, thinking of the mess of stars that spills over the human sky.
“You could never really see it in the city,” she murmurs.
I notice the melancholy look in her eyes and feel a hint of sorrow. “I’m sorry,” I say, almost under my breath. I don’t know what else to say.
Verity is silent for a moment before she finally looks at me. Her eyes are glazed with silver tears that refuse to fall. My heart clenches painfully at the sight and I reach for her instinctively. She doesn’t push me away when I cup her cheek in my hand and brush my thumb over her soft skin.
“I just don’t understand, Altair,” she says, sounding broken. “How could I have lived for a thousand years? Where are my memories of it? What about my parents?”
“I’m sorry,” I say again, edging closer to her.
She leans into me, her forehead resting on my shoulder. “I just want to know the truth.” She sounds broken, defeated, and hurt.
