Avery (Random Romance)

by Charlotte McConaghy

  I wondered if it was possible for a woman to love a man so much that she became lost within that love. If you loved as large as the sea, as inexplicably, then how could you not drown? I wondered how much longer I could love a monster and still be the same woman. If he couldn’t see himself, was it possible that he’d ever see me?

  Not a single person in this realm saw me, and I thought I could feel myself disappearing. As I watched the water so far in the distance, I was unsure which way I should step.

  And then I heard him. ‘Rose! Don’t!’

  I turned.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Thorne yelled. ‘Get down!’

  He’d come back.

  ‘I wasn’t going to jump,’ I tried to tell him as he crossed the roof, but when I stepped down my foot slipped and I felt myself tilt backwards. He was fast then – faster than I’d ever seen a human be. I was falling backwards, scrabbling for a hold, but before I was lost he had reached the balcony and caught hold of my outstretched hand. In less than a moment, he’d hoisted me back onto the roof, as though I weighed nothing in his enormous arms. My gasp of shock tore free as he pulled me against his chest, holding me so tightly it squeezed the air from my lungs.

  ‘What did you do?’ he exclaimed savagely.

  I didn’t know how to explain that I hadn’t meant to jump, that the truth was simple: I’d never jump while Thorne was in my life. But I didn’t know how to tell him, so I stayed quiet. And in that moment, I realised that the answer was easy – if he came for me, again and again, it might be enough to keep me from disappearing. It might be enough, one day, to help me forget about my father and the water.

  Chapter 6

  Ava

  The torch flickered out eventually, and we walked on in darkness. Ambrose led the way, and I was too tired to argue. When I fell behind, he tugged the rope to make sure I kept moving. I don’t think he had any idea which way we were headed, but as he walked, every step of the way, no matter how dark it got, he sang. Sometimes he sang soft, sad songs, and other times he sang loud, bawdy alehouse jigs. He sang about beauty and about sorrow, about sports and cities and fighting, all in a voice so beautiful it astonished me. But it occurred to me, after what felt like days, that there was one thing he never sang about.

  ‘Ambrose,’ I interrupted wearily at one point. ‘Don’t you know any songs about love?’ Immediately, I could have bitten my own tongue off. Stupid, stupid, stupid self-flagellation. Didn’t everything hurt enough without songs of love? But pieces of me remained from before, and occasionally they reared their heads and tried to remind me of what I’d once been – of how whimsical I’d been as a child, how desperate for love. But I thought of Avery and those pieces sank back down, cowed and sheepish and embarrassed.

  ‘Love?’ Ambrose asked. ‘Why would I sing of love?’

  Why indeed. I didn’t reply, because I agreed with him. No answers remained – they were hiding in shame.

  We walked in silence for a while, and then I heard Ambrose say, ‘Not everything in the world is about love, Avery. People in Kaya are fixated on all the wrong things.’

  But he didn’t understand. I wanted, somehow, to show him the truth, to explain it to him, but I didn’t know how, so I kept walking, thinking that sometimes he seemed very young.

  As if reading my thoughts, he admitted softly, ‘I don’t know any.’

  ‘What did your ma teach you when you were a child?’

  ‘She taught me how to kill.’

  I felt cold, and I didn’t want to talk anymore. Nor did I want to sing. I wanted no music, no sound – no remembrance of the shitty world we lived in. For the first time, I felt truly sorry for Ambrose.

  ‘You could sing one,’ he suggested.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I have a terrible voice.’

  ‘Oh, come on—’

  ‘No.’

  He closed his mouth with a snap of teeth. A few minutes later he hissed out a breath of surprise.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Stop,’ he ordered. ‘There’s a drop here.’

  I reached my hands out and walked until I touched his warm back. Glad to have found him in the dark, I didn’t immediately remember to move my hands away.

  ‘Drop something in and we’ll see how long it takes to land,’ I suggested.

  He didn’t move, and I wondered what the hold-up was until I realised I still had my hands on his back. Quickly I jerked them away.

  I heard him kneel and run his hands along the ground, searching for a rock. ‘Okay, I’m dropping it now.’

  The splash came four seconds later.

  ‘Not too bad,’ I commented.

  ‘More water,’ he groaned. ‘And this time we can’t see shit.’

  ‘Let’s get it over with.’

  We dropped into the water below and it was even colder than the last pool – it stole the breath from my lungs and I kicked to the surface, gasping with horror.

  ‘Holy Sword!’ Ambrose roared, his voice echoing enough to tell me we were in another cavern. ‘It’s freezing!’

  We swam as fast as we could, searching for another ledge, another tunnel, but we kept getting completely disoriented in the darkness.

  ‘Untie the rope, Ambrose,’ I said eventually.

  ‘Why? So you can escape?’

  I clicked my tongue. ‘Are you insane? Where in the world would I escape to? I just want to dive down a bit and see if I can spot anything.’

  ‘What are you going to spot underwater in the pitch black?’

  ‘If I were to guess, I’d say there are probably luminous eels further down. They love still water like this – it’s the perfect spot.’

  I heard Ambrose sigh and start to hack through the elaborate knots he’d made around my wrist. As soon as I was free, I took a huge breath and dived as hard as I could, kicking powerfully. I was stronger in water than I was on land – my father was a fisherman, after all. Down and down I went, with no idea where I was going or in which direction I should swim. Eventually I found what I’d been hoping for – half a dozen bright green eels attached to the rock wall of the cave. Grabbing one around the head so it couldn’t bite me, I surged back up to the surface and held it out for Ambrose to see.

  ‘Sword,’ he breathed. ‘You did it!’

  ‘I’ll try not to be offended by how surprised you sound. Wait here while I scout.’ I left him and dived again, holding the slippery, wriggling creature in my good hand. It didn’t take me long to figure out the problem, and I resurfaced.

  ‘Okay, there’s a tunnel, but it’s underwater. I’m going to have to swim through it to see how long it is, and then I’ll come back for you.’

  He eyed me carefully in the eerie green glow, then shook his head. ‘No. I’ll go.’

  ‘If this is because you don’t trust me to come back for you—’

  ‘That’s not it,’ he said. ‘You’re sick, Avery. You’ve got more injuries than I can count. You’re half dead from the stupid bond. You won’t make it far.’

  ‘I— I’m a stronger swimmer than you are.’

  ‘Yeah, maybe,’ he snapped suddenly, losing his temper. ‘Maybe you used to be, but it makes no difference anymore. Give me the eel and for once in your damn life stop arguing.’

  I stared at him, then handed over the eel. I’d been told, numerous times, that I was a woman who didn’t know how to pick her battles. ‘Take a very deep breath, hold it for a second, and then draw more air into your lungs – it’ll stretch your capacity.’

  He smiled and said, ‘If I don’t come back, it’s because I’ve drowned.’

  ‘Yes, thank you – I could have gathered that.’

  This made his smile widen. ‘Fine, smartass. If I don’t come back, it’s because I’ve left you here to die alone. It’s been a pleasure, Avery of Kaya. So long.’

  Then he vanished under the water, taking the light with him.

  I floated, knowing I should find my way to the edge and hop out, lest my
temperature drop too far, but for some reason I couldn’t bring myself to leave him alone in the water – stupid as that was. I flipped onto my back and peered into the black space before me, imagining travelling up and out of this cave, this mountain, this island. I longed for Migliori, imagined riding him out of this pit of despair. If I imagined escaping here with Ambrose, it simply meant we were closer to the prison. I didn’t know which torture was worse, but I suspected being trapped underground with a Pirenti soldier wasn’t quite as bad as being imprisoned with dozens of them, especially when the single soldier grew kinder and more confusing with every passing day.

  Just as I was starting to believe that Ambrose really had drowned, he burst back through the water and heaved in ragged breaths of air. ‘I found an air pocket,’ he gasped. ‘But it’s far, Ave. Really bloody far. I don’t know if …’

  If you’ll make it, were the words he didn’t say. I licked my lips, wanting to argue, to tell him he was being an arrogant ass again, and that I could do anything he could, but the truth was like a searing hot blade against my skin, forcing me to face it. I was weak and sick and tired, and in that first dive I’d realised how depleted my lung capacity was.

  I met Ambrose’s eyes and gave him his words back. ‘Let’s see.’

  He nodded, and in his pale gaze was something I hadn’t expected – regret. ‘Yeah, all right. Ready, then?’

  ‘Yes.’

  We took some deep breaths, I tried to stretch my lungs as far as I could, and then we dived. Once upon a time I had been a strong swimmer, but now I grew weak so quickly that I was simply a hindrance to Ambrose’s long, powerful strokes. I hated it, hated myself, hated this cave and this water – and for the very first time I hated the bond that had destroyed me in such a way. We swam on and on until my lungs were burning and my body was tingling. I wasn’t going to make it – unless the end was in the next few feet I was going to drown, and Ambrose was going to have to yank my bloated, dead corpse into the tiny air pocket.

  ‘Just push through the pain,’ he tells me. ‘You decide where your limit is.’

  ‘You’ve been training for years!’ I protest. ‘You might be able to push through the pain, but I can’t!’

  ‘Ava, you’re stronger than this privileged little girl you behave as. You’re stronger than the fragile thing your parents believe you to be.’

  ‘I don’t know what I am, but it’s not strong,’ I mutter.

  ‘I know what you are,’ he says simply, ‘because I’m your mate. So do as I tell you.’

  I blinked the memory away, and focused again on my surrounds, on keeping my feet kicking as hard as they could. I wasn’t strong back then, all those years ago when first we’d met – I’d been a spoilt child, soft and pampered. But I’d made myself hard for him, for Avery, and when he was gone I had become even harder – the hardest woman in the world. I could do this – I could keep swimming.

  I followed the green light ahead and the strong male body as it kicked its way forward. Ambrose started to blur, his edges bleeding into the dark depths around him. A regret, that I wouldn’t reach the surface with this strange Pirenti man. I wanted to see his smile again, hear that laugh of his, which was odd – perhaps the lack of air.

  Just when I knew I couldn’t go any further, Ambrose turned and swam back to my side, and with his free hand he drew my face to his. Lips pressed against mine, he blew air into my mouth and down into my lungs, and I felt a burst of life shooting through my veins, shaking me awake. He was about to blow another breath when I pushed him away and shook my head, motioning him forward. He struck out again, and I followed, strong and determined.

  At long last we burst into the air pocket, which was so small we could barely fit beside each other. Spots danced before my eyes and I leant against the rocks, breathing heavily.

  ‘Wow,’ Ambrose finally muttered. ‘You’re a good kisser, Ave.’

  I shot him a glare of such loathing that he burst out laughing, yet again. I’d wanted to hear that laugh, but now it grated on me and made me hate him. I didn’t know what to do or say in the face of what he’d done for me – my discomfort made me hot. ‘You don’t take anything seriously, do you?’ I snapped.

  ‘Why in the world would I, when it’s so much more fun to be morose and depressing like you?’ he drawled. ‘Don’t worry, kid. I don’t make a habit of kissing seventeen-year-old boys, so you’re safe.’

  ‘If that’s what you think a kiss is, then I feel sorry for you,’ I muttered. ‘Let’s just go.’

  ‘Shouldn’t I scout ahead?’

  I shook my head. ‘I don’t care anymore – if it’s too far, it’s too far. Let’s just try.’

  ‘I hate caves,’ he burst out suddenly. ‘And being underwater. Have I ever told you that?’

  ‘No. You’ve hardly told me anything.’

  ‘Well, then if we make it to another air pocket, I promise I’ll tell you every titbit of information about me that I can think of.’

  ‘I’d probably be more motivated if you promised not to.’

  ‘I’ll bet you were a comedian in your first life.’ Ambrose took a massive breath and dived again, and I quickly followed suit.

  The tunnel seemed to be curving upwards, which was a good sign. We made it to three more air pockets before the final leg, which pushed me so hard that I thought I was going to die, and Ambrose had to breathe into my mouth again before we finally made it into a cave shrouded with light. The mouth of this cave opened up into the ocean, and Ambrose crowed in triumph while I sagged in exhaustion.

  I realised as we swam out and around the curve of the coast, climbing onto the rocky beach under a pale sun, that this was a man who had saved my life several times, who sang beautiful songs about Kaya, and who told stories of how he missed his older brother. This was a man who laughed during any occasion, even in the darkest part of the world, even when he was about to die. A man who gave me the very air from his lungs, even though I was a prisoner who had tried to assassinate his queen.

  As I pulled myself onto the warm rocks and lay in the sun, letting my body finally remember what warmth meant, I felt closer to tears than I had in two years, because when I had said to him ‘you don’t take anything seriously’ I had simply been repeating words that weren’t my own.

  ‘I’m trying to study, Ava – I can’t go out.’

  I run my hands through his long black hair and kiss a line along his spine. ‘You can study me, if you’d like.’

  ‘You don’t take anything seriously, do you?’

  ‘Why should I?’

  Once upon a time, I’d thought that everything in the world was a game, a joke, a stage.

  I looked at Ambrose as he lay beside me and I wasn’t so sure about the difference anymore. But I was certain of one thing: if life was a joke, then it was being played on me.

  Ambrose

  ‘We’re on the eastern coast,’ I told Avery. ‘If we follow it around, we should eventually come to the prison in the north.’

  ‘Goodie.’

  I watched him, lying with his face tilted up to the sun, and even with his eyes closed I could tell he was rolling them at me. I grinned. I’d not once seen him smile, had never heard him laugh. I knew now that he couldn’t. That alone struck me as the saddest thing I’d ever come across – a funny guy like Avery should be able to laugh.

  ‘I have no idea how far it is, but I’d say it’s a pretty long way.’ I rummaged through the pack, hoping against hope that I’d sealed one of the pots properly. Miraculously, the ash paste was still intact, and I took Avery’s arm and started to smother a new layer on.

  ‘Do you think they’ll reward you for getting me there?’ Avery asked, his sour expression turned away from my healing efforts. ‘Regale you with the medals of a hero? A struggling warrior who made it through the unforgiving jungle with a prisoner in tow, all to exact justice in the world?’

  ‘Probably.’

  Avery clicked his tongue in irritation. ‘How noble. Your plight wil
l be one of legend.’

  I finished with the wrap, but for an odd second, I felt the strong pulse of his blood under my fingertips. I glanced up at his face, but he was gazing at the wild waves. Tiny droplets of sea spray sat in his long, black eyelashes and on his dry, cracked lips.

  He stood abruptly, wrenching his arm from my hold. He wobbled once – still weak from everything he’d been through – but his expression didn’t waver. ‘We’d better rush towards those medals then.’ He strode forward, his dark cap hiding his golden hair. I really was curious about what was under that hat – it never came off, not even when we were underwater. Maybe he was going bald – I smiled at the thought.

  We walked slowly along the rocky beach. There was a whimsical feeling in the air, surrounded as we were by mist, waves crashing in our ears. The grey sky reached out in every direction, not a blade of sunlight to be seen, and the emptiness was eerie. It felt almost otherworldly, like we were the only two people left alive. I found myself watching Avery as he walked, intrigued by the way his body moved. It was so … elegant. Graceful in a way that was familiar, though I couldn’t figure out why. I wanted, for the first time in my life, to go to Kaya and see the way they lived. I wanted to see the difference between men and women, wanted to see the way they interacted with each other, to understand how this boy could get a woman to be attracted to him. Didn’t Kayan women want their men strong? I knew as soon as I had the thought that it was unworthy – Avery was strong. I thought about how he’d skinned the stag on his own, gritting his teeth and struggling with the horrendous task. Thought about how he’d rowed all night in the dinghy. How he’d taken all my violence silently, and always fought back – would never stop fighting back, no matter how outmatched he was.

  A thought came to me abruptly, unexpectedly – Avery might not be as physically strong as a Pirenti soldier, but he had a strength of spirit I’d never seen before. Somehow, I thought, this realisation is going to change my life. What a thing to think as I plodded along under the infinite grey sky.