by Bailey Dark
I narrow my eyes at him. “I’ll get it, Serus. We’ve been here for less than an hour.”
“Actually it’s been five,” Serus counters.
“Five?” I gape and glance towards Altair. He nods, confirming Serus’s words, but he nods encouragingly.
“Tell the Fae to leave, we’ll be out here for hours yet,” Serus hisses.
“Why?” I look at him questioningly.
Serus paces. “Because he’s distracting you.”
“I hardly noticed him in five hours,” I say, cocking a brow.
My familiar rolls his eyes. “You’ll focus better.”
“Maybe,” I snap, “I can’t focus because you’re criticizing me all the time. If you would be quiet for a few minutes, maybe I would know more than I do. Which is nothing.”
Serus is quiet, studying me with sharp, bright eyes. He turns away, stalking into the darkness. “Then I’ll leave you to it, Bloodbane.”
I watch, eyes wide with disbelief, as my familiar disappears into the darkness. “Serus?” I call, voice echoing over the desert.
“What’s going on?” Altair asks, appearing at my shoulder. His brows are furrowed with concern and he follows my gaze to where my familiar disappeared.
“Serus. He just left.” My heart beats too fast. “What if he doesn’t come back?”
“He’ll come back.” Altair runs his hands over my shoulders to comfort me.
I turn to him, biting the inside of my cheek nervously. “Will you find him? Please?” The strange creature has become such a constant in my life. The last time I felt this afraid for someone was when I saw Thal being dragged over the bridge by Presium, the Devourer. Serus is my companion, he sleeps beside my head every night. He advises me on subjects of magic. I don’t know if I can lose him.
Altair studies my face, searching my eyes. Finally, he drops his hands from my shoulders. “Alright. But stay here, or return to camp,” he warns me. Altair presses a quick kiss to my cheek and sprints off into the darkness before I can react.
I lay a hand over my cheek, still warm from his lips, and blush. It’s only been a few days since we last touched like that, but it feels like it’s been so much longer. Years, even. I stare out into the darkness, fear in my belly. Nothing moves in the shadows, and I know it might be some time until they return. I inhale deeply, turning back to the enchanted cage. Freia is watching me, her eyes bright and filled with curiosity. I flinch at her sudden closeness.
“So he is your lover,” Freia coos. “Isn’t it odd for a Fae King to be involved with a Bloodbane witch?”
“He isn’t my lover, and we aren’t involved,” I mumble, turning my attention back to the intricate spell work.
“He certainly seems like your lover.” Freia grins.
I ignore her. The Goddess isn’t someone I want to be involved with, and I certainly don’t want her to know anything more about me than she already does. Something about that possibility makes my skin crawl. I kneel beside the cage, thrusting my entire hand against the bars of the cage. I bite my tongue to hold back a whimper. My hand feels as if it’s being electrified and it trembles.
“That doesn’t look pleasant,” Freia tuts. “Shall I call for your not-lover? Perhaps he can comfort you.”
“Stop,” I say through clenched teeth.
“Come, come.” Freia looks at me almost pleadingly. “Give me something. I’ve been so bored for so long.”
With a gasp, I tug my hand back, cradling it to my chest while I shake. I close my eyes tightly, despair washing over me. I can’t do this. I’m not equipped. I’m not experienced enough. Whatever it is that the old Bloodbane witch and even Sadal see in me and my abilities; it isn’t there. I wish suddenly Altair was still sitting on his vigil. Even just his presence would ease these feelings.
“Look at you,” Freia whispers. “Take a break.”
I sigh shakily and meet her gaze. She looks genuinely concerned and my heart rate slows. “Altair and I used to be promised to each other. We made a covenant. And we both broke it,” I finally say as a peace offering.
“Broke it?” She cocks a brow.
“It’s a long story. Circumstances keep us apart,” I say. I feel reluctant to say anything more.
“I get it,” Freia sighs. “I’ve had many lovers, and somehow, all of them have ended up betraying me.”
Her words sting and I narrow my eyes. “He didn’t betray me.”
“No?” Freia cocks a brow. “You mean to tell me the warrior over there is not his new lover? Or that he has no feelings for her? I saw the way he held her so closely to his chest.”
“She’s injured,” I say.
“It’s the way he held her.” Freia tilts her chin down at me meaningfully. “Look at him now.”
My brows furrow with confusion but I follow her gaze towards the campsite. Altair has returned, and I see Serus padding beside him. Altair catches my gaze and points down to Serus at his feet. I nod and force a smile even though my chest is swirling with negative emotions. Why didn’t he come back to me to tell me himself? I watch, heart in my throat, as he crouches beside Erzur. She sits up, barely registering any pain, and smiles at him. Altair’s hand goes to her forehead, resting there lightly. I clench my hands into fists, hiding them beneath my red cloak. Anger boils inside me, heat sweeping through my veins.
“Why are you even helping them?” Freia asks. I can feel her eyes on me, devouring me.
“I don’t want the Shades to destroy the world,” I mumble.
“Is it even your problem?” Freia shifts, skirts rustling. “You could just return to the mortal realm.”
I look at her sharply, eyes narrowed. “How do you know I’m from the mortal realm?”
Freia waves a hand towards Sadal and shrugs. “You could leave whenever you want. You aren’t bound to anyone or anything here.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” My eyes drift back to her as I hide my suspicion. Sadal hasn’t left the camp since he was first dragged there—at least not that I’ve noticed. How would they communicate?
“Once you’ve lived to a certain age, you realize just how pointless relationships are.” Freia picks at her nails. “No matter who it is, they’ll always end up disappointing you.”
“Is that why you chose to murder innocents?” I ask coldly.
Freia looks up sharply, scowling. “His children were not innocent, and they certainly weren’t children.” She purses her lips. “But, yes, that is why. I had a little encouragement from our Dark friend over there.”
I study Sadal. Shadows pool under his eyes and he looks exhausted. "Why isn't he here? Trapped?"
"The Dark God and the God of Light have a special relationship. Without one, the other can't exist. Thus, the quick search for a replacement," Freia explains.
“Interesting,” I say, exhaustion weighing on my bones.
I crawl to my feet and set my eyes back on the prison. Freia wanders back to the center of the cage, conjuring butterflies to flutter around her, lighting up the darkness. I close my eyes and dive into the enchantment. It’s as difficult as it was before. The spell is hidden deep within the magic, elusive and mysterious. My brows knit together in concentration and the pounding begins behind my eyes again.
The spell feels like a silken thread buried within a pile of wool. I burrow through the coarse, nonsensical magic in search of that thread. When I find it, I pounce on it. Sweat beads on my forehead with the effort. I dig my nails into my palms as if I'm clutching the enchantment. I follow the spell to its core, to where the strings tangle together. The spell is convoluted, confusing, and massive. I pluck at it with my magic, hoping it will unravel for me. But the spell binds even tighter.
I exhale loudly in frustration. No one has taught me what to do with a spell like this. Like calls to like. Magic calls to magic. It should respond. But when I touch this enchantment with my magic, it recoils from me. As if it can’t stand me. Or as if it was designed to stop someone from unraveling it. I open my eyes and find
Freia watching me with hungry eyes. I wonder how many times she has attempted to free herself.
I stagger away from the cage without a word to her. I can feel her eyes on my back, between my shoulder blades and I have to fight to stop myself from shuddering. I sit silently beside the fire, drawing my knees up to my chest. Thal looks at me curiously, but I know he won’t comfort me. He doesn’t even know who I am. Stress, fatigue, and sorrow hit me all at once and I sag. I rest my forehead on my knees, taking a shaky breath.
At least I found the spell, I tell myself. At least now, I’ve found what I’m looking for. But I have a feeling what comes next will be much more difficult. It may even be impossible. When I close my eyes, I picture Altair—and I know I won’t give up. Not if it will save him.
Chapter 13
Altair
I crouch beside Erzur, surveying her injuries. She’s healing nicely and judging by the sour look on her face, is gaining some of her strength back. The bruising on her face is a sickly green with splotches of yellow—but no purple. Her scratches have scabbed over, and I know they’ll be completely healed by the morning. Whatever internal bruising to her organs or bones she may have had will be mostly healed by then as well.
“I’m starving,” Erzur snaps, pushing herself up onto her elbows.
Gently, I urge her back down and brush the back of my hand over her forehead. She isn’t burning up. All is well. “Serus and I managed to find some food,” I say. I tilt my chin towards the carcass behind me. “Some kind of cougar, I think.”
“You think?” She wrinkles her nose.
“Well, I’m not exactly familiar with the flora and fauna of the Third Stratum.” I roll my eyes and rise.
Erzur lays her head back on the dusty earth and stares up at the black nothingness overhead. There are no stars to speak of here. Once the sun set hours ago, the sky became a matte, oppressive black. Only our fire and the strange glow of the cobweb cage lit the night for us. I glance over at the prison as I draw out my dagger and begin skinning the beast I dragged back after finding Serus. Verity is still beside the cage, eyes closed in concentration. Freia watches her hungrily, possessively.
I don’t trust this Goddess. I don’t like Verity near her alone. And I certainly don’t like the way she watches her the way Sadal used to eye Verity. Frowning, I slice my blade beneath the creature’s skin and drag it over its flesh, loosening the skin and fur from the meat beneath. I tug it back, revealing red meat. The sickly sweet scent of raw meat fills the air. I work quickly, cutting open its innards and tossing them aside. I roast as much of the meat as I can. The cooking is careless, but it doesn’t matter.
I give the meat to Sadal first, cutting pieces from each part of the carcass. He eats them all ravenously. “If it’s poisonous, I guess we’ll know soon enough,” Thal murmurs, watching Sadal eat.
“It isn’t poisonous,” Sadal says through a mouthful of meat.
“And we should take your word for it?” Thal cocks a brow.
“More meat for me.” Sadal shrugs.
“Just give me the meat,” Erzur growls. “Poison be damned.”
I hand her a large piece of meat and she takes a large bite. Juices flow down her chin and hands, but she ignores it. Thal and I exchange a glance and my stomach rumbles audibly. I take a piece and sniff. It smells much the same as venison, despite the fact that it came from a carnivore living in the Ether. I bite into it. The meat is bland, but good quality. If it had been seasoned properly and prepared by the chefs of my palace, it would have been a fine meal.
“More,” Erzur demands, lifting a sticky hand.
I toss her another piece. She needs as much food as she can stand to eat if she's to heal correctly and quickly. While I cut more parts of the carcass to cook, I hear soft footsteps approaching. Verity reaches the campsite, plopping down onto the ground at the outskirts of the fire. Half in the darkness and half in the light, she curls in on herself. My heart beats quickly and I watch her over the fire while the meat cooks.
She looks exhausted, shaken, and disappointed. There’s something in the curve of her shoulders that warns me something isn’t right. I glance up at the cage, but Freia is staring up at the darkness, where glowing butterflies flit over her head. I wonder if she possesses the magic to conjure them, despite the cage. A warm wind whistles through the camp, ruffling my hair. I glace up, eyeing the darkness, but nothing stirs and Freia seems unbothered.
Once the meat is roasted, I carry a piece towards Verity. She stirs when I sit beside her, but she doesn’t lift her cheek from her knees. Her blue eyes are red-rimmed from exhaustion but bright and alert. She doesn’t offer me a smile as I expected, instead looking at me morosely. I run my tongue over my lips, suddenly nervous, and offer her some meat.
“It’s safe to eat,” I say quietly. “And not half bad.”
“What is it?” She sniffs.
“Venison,” I lie.
Verity’s gaze drifts towards the furred beast with long claws lying on the other side of the flames. “That doesn’t look like venison.”
I grimace. “You caught me. It’s some kind of cougar, I think. But it’s good.”
"Thanks." She takes the meat and bites into it hesitantly. Slowly, she takes larger bites. Her brows are furrowed as if she's concentrating on not thinking about where the meat is from.
She licks her fingers, slipping them between her lips to lap up the juices from the meat. I try not to stare or think of the soft folds of her tongue on my body on the day we made love. “You’ll need to keep your strength up,” I rasp.
“I could use some water,” she says, eyeing me.
“I’ll see what I can do.” I hold her gaze, cheeks flushed with a desire that I can hardly hold back.
“What?” She asks wryly.
I shrug but wet my lips with my tongue. “I was just thinking of the day we made love.” I lower my voice, leaning towards her.
Verity’s lips part in surprise and she struggles to hide her pleased smile. “Are you trying to distract me? Or is it so difficult for you to get your mind out of the gutter?”
“I’m not sure what that means.” I lean closer, grinning softly. “But I would say both.”
“What are you thinking about?” She asks, dropping her cheek back onto her knees as if she can hide.
I pause, hesitant to tell her that my mind is on the sound of her heart beating and the scent of her body. It’s new and different. “Mostly the sweet sounds you made.” My body flushes with heat and I don’t bother hiding my arousal. Her eyes widen, roving over me and she swallows loudly. “And the way you tasted.”
“God,” Verity whispers, biting her bottom lip. “You’re insane.”
“Why?” I cock a brow.
She gestures towards the others, eyes darting towards Erzur. “Altair, this is a conversation for a more private place, don’t you think? Not that I don’t want to talk about it, but—you know.” Verity trails off.
“Then let’s go somewhere more private,” I murmur, tilting my chin to the darkness. My eyes rove over her and I feel a flush of happiness.
Verity bites her lip and smiles. "I wish we could." Her smile disappears. "But, Altair, we know we can't be together anymore."
“I’m tired of this,” I growl. I take her hand, hiding our laced fingers discreetly. “Verity, all I want is you. I would risk a war with Erzur if it meant we could be together. I look at you, alone, and it feels like my heart will burst from the pain of it.”
“You would risk your people for me?” She quirks a brow. “You wouldn’t do that. You’re too good of a ruler to do something like that.”
My chest feels heavy at her words and I know what she says is right. It would destroy me to know that I let my people die for my own selfishness. But things have changed now. There's more to consider. I tighten my grip around her hand, allowing her warmth invade me. "Why is this so damn difficult?" I growl.
Verity rests her other hand on top of our entwined fingers. “Because we had s
omething neither of us had ever felt before. We had love. But we messed it up. And we have to accept that.”
“What if I can’t?” I whisper, despair lilting my voice.
“Then we’ll both be in pain for a long time.” Her eyes are somber.
I have to fight to resist pressing my lips to hers in a desperate kiss. I lock gazes with her, trying to push every bit of my love for her into this moment. I cling to every shred, every whispered word, every kiss and touch. Verity’s eyes brim with tears suddenly and she pulls her hand away from my grip, tucking it beneath her knees. The simple move has my heart in agony.
“I,” I whisper, looking away at the dancing flames, “Will always love you. Truly. You will always have my heart. You set my soul on fire, Verity.”
She hiccups softly, and I know her tears have spilled. I feel a pang of guilt and my brows furrow with pain. I hate to hurt her. I hate to be so selfish. But every moment with her, seeing her loneliness bared for all to see, kills me inside. I lift my hand to her cheek to wipe away her tears but she turns away, hiding her face from me. I drop my hand, leaving it on the dusty earth beside her, hoping she might reach for it. But she doesn't.
I leave her, moving closer to the fire to give her space to deal with the pain. Thal watches me with keen eyes as I take a seat beside him. I don't speak as I take his wet stone and begin sharpening my own blade viciously. I run the rock over the steel quickly, sparks flying. Thal tuts, and I know he'll demand a new wet stone from me later once I've worn this one down to nothing. Slowly, the hissing of metal over stone draws me into a trancelike state. I feel nothing, see nothing but sparks, hear nothing but the sharpening. It's like a lullaby, and I feel my insides relaxing.
“Finally,” Erzur huffs, rising with a pained grimace. I glance up, rhythm faltering as I see Verity wander closer to the fire. “Have you solved it?”
Verity looks at Erzur with mixed emotions playing on her face. Jealousy, anger, and sorrow. She clears her throat. “I found the spell.”
