The Darkest Night (The Orien Trilogy Book 2)

by Catherine Wilson

“You know,” he says, reaching out to pick up the tanned paper. “Your mother’s plan wasn’t too bad, after all. Ironically, she may be the very one who sealed your fate and opened the only door big enough for Knox to squeeze through.”

  He quiets, tilting his head in thought, as his eyes narrow in on the new tears that dot my cheeks. Slowly, he drops the missive and brings his hand up to my face, wiping the tears with a slow swipe of his thumb. Heat licks across my cheek at the feel of his touch, and I close my eyes, begging the memories to fade before they swallow me whole. Because I can’t have them now. Not when he’s like this. Not when he won’t remember. But then he speaks, and, for a moment, I don’t think I’ll ever have any trouble forgetting them at all.

  “So hard she worked to keep you safe and all for nothing.”

  My eyes snap open, tears more than dried with the instant heating of my skin. I only have a second to take in the cruel grin on his handsome, olive face before a little dark force is upon us, and Aras is shoved backward toward the bookcases that line the wall.

  “Get away from her!” Vivi screams, plowing onto the scene with enough anger and hurt to burst the windows at our backs. “What did you think, you bigheaded fool? That you could waltz in here and make light of the fact that you don’t know us at all? I’ve got news for you, Aras. Somewhere in that twisted brain of yours, you do know us. Better than you even know yourself!”

  For an instant, Aras’ features cloud with confusion, and the arrogant mask slips from his face. But then his eyes tip up to meet mine over Vivi’s tensed shoulder, and as quickly as that, the moment is gone. “Knox assured me you were weak, but he didn’t mention you had your little sister do your bidding. How sweet.”

  His cruel words light a match to my heart, sending a sharp sting pumping through my veins. Heat licks at my limbs, and that heavy, familiar burn begins to build within my chest. For I care about Aras, and no matter how far he pushes me, I always will. But there’s one thing I won’t allow. One thing I won’t let him do. He cannot hurt my sister, because like my papa, I love her too much. And right now, there’s only one thing my horrid body yearns to do.

  Skies above. My magic wants to light him on fire. Every beautiful, cursed piece of him, and I’ve never felt more ashamed.

  “Is that so?” I push my hands behind my back, palms burning with the pressure of a deadly magic that begs to be unleashed. But even as I speak the words, I feel the falseness of them on my lips. “Knox told me he had a new fool working within his crew. I wasn’t sure it was you at first, but now that you’ve blessed us with your speech, I’m quite certain. How pitiful.”

  A wolfish grin spreads across his face. It’s the same one I’m used to seeing right before he says something awful with the pure intent of getting a rise out of me. Unfortunately for Aras, I think he underestimates how much of a rise he’s going to get. And I’m hopelessly afraid.

  “Brave!” a firm voice shouts from the open door, shaking Aras’ hold on my gaze and forcing the magic back to my core with a jarring rush.

  My insides bubble with pain, and my throat burns as if I could cough the fire from my mouth. I close my eyes, forcing a thick swallow down my torched throat, and my cooling hands fall upon the desk, scattering the forgotten missive to the floor. My chest heaves and blasted tears threaten to leak through my lashes, but I clamp my eyes shut even tighter, refusing to let one more weakness show.

  Ashen knows I’ve shown enough already.

  “Bates!” Vivi huffs with a healthy mixture of relief and annoyance. “If someone had to save us from this little predicament, I’m glad it’s at least the only one left in this horrid place with a brain. Aras, here, seems to have forgotten the number-one rule of Father’s underlings.”

  “Which is?” Aras prods as I finally open my eyes to take in what’s sure to be our disastrous end.

  “Don’t. Mess. With his daughters,” she spits, bright green eyes nothing but a swirling storm.

  Aras barks out a laugh, the very same one that always ruled my heart, and I bite down so hard I taste the blood on my lip. “Even when they’re rummaging through my king’s personal quarters?”

  “Especially then!” she retorts, popping a serious hand on her hip.

  “Alright, alright,” Bates cuts in, finally walking into the room. “That’s enough.” His gray eyes survey the three of us, until they land on the discarded missive at his boots. When he finally looks up, I can see the pity shining in his eyes. “Brave. Viviana. Let’s take our leave.”

  “That’s it? You’re going to let them go without as much as a second glance? Without even consulting Knox first?” Aras demands, his once-playful voice now cold and serious. Frightening, even.

  Bates levels his stare at Aras, and the look alone makes me want to fall out on the floor. “My decisions are none of your concern, Aras, and you’d do well to remember it.”

  Aras returns Bates’ glare with a sharp one of his own, jaw working back and forth in heavy silence. Bates takes his response for submission and catches our eyes, tilting his head toward the door. Not risking another glance in Aras’ direction, I bolt around the opposite side of the desk, putting as much space between us as the small room will allow. I’ve almost made it to the door when a warm hand reaches out and latches onto my arm, pulling me to a stop. Ahead of me, Vivi and Bates turn at the loss of my footsteps. The expressions on their faces alone tell me I shouldn’t look back.

  Oh, how I wish I were one for heeding advice.

  “What is it?” I mumble, turning to find a painfully delicious Aras at my side. His midnight waves have been trimmed since our last fateful encounter, not even skimming the collar of his white Orien tunic, but his forehead is still covered with a mess of wayward curls. His blue eyes shine with playfulness, olive cheeks still flushed from his argument with Bates. And for one delirious second, we’re in the woods. Just the two of us. Together.

  But then, he speaks.

  “Try not to cry too much for me while we’re apart. I promise; we’ll meet again soon.”

  My eyes widen with hurt, and when the words finally form on my lips, I’m too tired to stop the slight quiver my voice brings. “Don’t you worry, Aras. I don’t plan on ever shedding another tear for you again.”

  Then I turn as Vivi grabs hold of my arm, pulling me out of the room and back to the bleeding walls of red. Unfortunately for me, his voice still carries. “You shouldn’t lie, Penelope Brave. You’re not very good at it.”

  And then the knob-less door slams in his face.

  Vivi bends to look through the hole, sending in one last glare and grunt. “Don’t listen to one word that mindless boy says! You’re the best liar I know. Now let’s get out of here before Father comes.”

  “Thank you,” I choke, nearly melting with her backward sincerity, and I grab hold of her hand as she whisks us out of the room.

  Four

  “Brave!” Vivi calls through the closed washroom door. “Please tell me you’re not in there pretending to take a warm bath, all the while reading that no-good Aras’ letter. If you’re going to cry and go back on your word, we might as well do it together.”

  A strangled sob fills my throat, and I struggle to rein it in before it bursts free. The worn letter crinkles in my hand, and the precious, yet somewhat rude words of Aras blur across the page. My Handsome Prince. How you’ve ruined me so.

  Frowning, I slink across the cool floor and open the wooden door that leads to my secret cave of misery. Or not so secret, apparently. “He’s right.” I sulk. “Even in his cursed, messed-up state, he’s right. I’m a horrible liar.”

  Vivi’s determined eyes search my cheeks, and when she’s satisfied no tears have left their mark, she nods with sisterly approval. “You see. You could have fallen to pieces reminiscing over that terribly ill-mannered note in there, but you didn’t. You held true to your word, and besides, maybe your strange form of longing over a single letter is… healthier than mine.”

  My eyes flit around the room
at the sudden redness of her face, and I’m horrified to find every single vase I possessed shattered across the floors. “Vivi.” I gasp, grabbing hold of her hands to make sure she wasn’t cut in the madness. “We’ve got to find another way for you to handle your anger.”

  Vivi sighs, her head hanging in the saddest of ways. “That’s what Bates has been telling me, but so far, he’s failed to deliver on any solid solution. He says he means to take me to the shooting yard and practice with arrows, but I’m afraid he may fear for his life and anyone else who happens to be within twenty paces.”

  Or even a hundred, I’d guess.

  “I always feel as though I need something to throw. Or slam. Or beat,” she continues, chewing on her lower lip as I watch the effects of growing up with a crazed father furrow her brow in thought.

  “An ax, perhaps,” I consider, pulling her into a tight hug as the worn letter crunches against her back. “Those seem good for chopping and throwing alike.”

  Her eyes peek up at mine with the faintest of sparkles, and in an instant, I know I’ve won her back. It can’t be easy dealing with a nearly comatose sister who hides in the washroom while she obsesses over a note from her first love’s past. My poor little sister. Sometimes, I fear she is too strong for her own good.

  “Yes,” she agrees, snuggling back into my chest, “I think an ax sounds nice. Perfect, actually.”

  I give her a one last squeeze, and I don’t dare think about mentioning the much easier and readily available option—my dagger. Even Bates couldn’t stop the whole castle from being put to sleep within the hour.

  “But what about you?” she presses, not ready to let go of my own silly issues quite yet. “Are you doomed to hiding in the washroom and reading over his letter forever? As Aras’ little sister, I’m as mad as my father’s black magic that he treated us in the way he did. Honestly, I could probably smack him, and I still may once he comes around. All those years growing up with him, and all he could talk about was Bravest, Bravest, Bravest. Now he can’t even get your name right! But just because he can’t think straight, it doesn’t mean we have to let him win. Or more importantly, our father win. He is the one behind this.”

  Vivi’s sudden logic nearly knocks me cold, and my hand latches onto the doorframe to keep from losing my footing. She’s right. Here I’ve been sulking over the fact that my dear Aras is no longer quite so endearing, when my anger and sadness shouldn’t be focused on him, but on the actions of Knox. Yes, Aras knew what he was doing when he signed up for this mess, but did he really understand how much it would change him? How much it would change us? I have to believe the answer is no, and for now, I have to be stronger than I’ve ever been. If not for me, then for Vivi and Papa, and for anyone else who has been threatened with Knox’s hate.

  I cannot let him win.

  “You’re right, Vivi. I’m going to put this depressing letter back in my pack, and I’m not going to open it again unless the very stars fall out of the sky. I can do this. We can do this.”

  “You bet we can!” Vivi beams, as if she knew I’d finally come around and stop moping about. “Now all we have to do is simply ignore Aras whenever he tries to come near us. I know it’s going to be hard at first, but it will all be worth it when we turn him back into his rightful self. He’ll be so proud of us for managing our tempers, I know it!”

  Thankfully, I’m saved from a response when a soft knock fills the room. Sireen pokes her head in even more timidly than usual, though her face betrays nothing of what I know to be her dismay. I’m almost positive she expected both of us to be passed out from sorrow atop the perfect, white rugs.

  “Only checking to see if I could be of any service.”

  “Perfect timing,” Vivi says, bounding over to the door while taking careful heed to avoid any broken glass. “I need you to find me an ax and fast.”

  Poor Sireen’s face pales, and it’s the first time I’ve felt like smiling all day.

  ↄ

  Evening settles over our little room quicker than I expect, and even quieter, too. Although I was worried Knox would storm through my door at any moment, he never came, and much of my concern and fear over our dreadful morning excursion dwindled away in his absence. Beside me, Vivi’s soft murmurs of sleep fill the room, and I settle down on the pillow next to her, desperate to calm my mind and fall into a dreamless sleep. My eyes catch hold of my pack sitting innocently on the nightstand, and as if on instinct, I reach out to grab hold of my letters. The only two letters I’ve carried with me through this whole journey, from the very two people who have never led me astray. My papa and Aras.

  Except now, things have changed, and I need to pretend as if they haven’t.

  Curling my fingers into a tight fist, I pull them back into the safety of my white sheets, wondering what happened to that smart girl who knew better than to get close to a boy like Aras. Darcy would be so disappointed if she knew that, somewhere along our journey, I started to find him pleasant. She should have never given me that letter of his. I had begged her not to. I wanted her to burn it and turn it into ash and nothingness where it belonged. But no, she wouldn’t listen, because she always knew best. And if my tragic longing for a boy who no longer exists is any indication, she still does.

  Oh, Aras, the least you could have done is called me by my fake name.

  A loud knock raps on the door, and I jump, grabbing the sheets as I pull myself up. My eyes dart to Vivi, who remains as blissfully unaware as she always does when she sleeps. A slight, pooling circle surrounds the place where her pillow and lips meet. I doubt I could wake her now if I tried. For a split second, I consider calling out and allowing whomever it is to let themselves in, but then I remember this isn’t some innocent call from Sireen. She knows way better than to contact us at this hour, based on Vivi’s sleepless wrath alone.

  Rising off the bed and slipping into my boots, I clutch my dagger in one hand, while I slide my long robe on with the other. Whoever is on the other side of that door is about to get a jolt either way. One, because I’m dressed in my nightclothes, which I can only assume is a particularly frightful affair, and two, because I’m about to put them to sleep with my dagger.

  I’d almost feel sorry for the poor soul if he or she weren’t making my heart pound so frantically out of my chest.

  Stopping at the door, I take one last look at Vivi. Assured she’s not about to leap at my back, I slowly open the door. The face I see is quite possibly the last one I ever expected.

  “Bates?” I whisper, wrinkling my nose in tune with my eyes. “What in Ashen could you have to say at an hour like this? Whatever it is, I can assure you, I’ll take it much better when the creepy moonlight isn’t casting ugly shadows across your face.”

  Bates’ mustache twitches, and something akin to enjoyment flashes in his dark eyes. “I see you’re as cheery at this late hour as you are during the day. Lucky me. Now come, Brave, we have much to discuss.”

  I have only a moment for the confusion to clear as he moves from the door and his back beckons me down the window-lined hall. Certain I didn’t miss the odd kindness in his voice, I glance back to the bed before hurrying out into the hall and leaving my sister behind. I catch up to Bates’ side, but he doesn’t slow or speak as I expect him to. Instead, he quickens his pace. Heading into the darkest wing of the castle, he grabs a lit torch off the wall and ushers me ahead as we continue our walk down the empty halls. Coming to a stop by a latched door, he finally looks at my face.

  “We’re going to be climbing a lot of stairs. I hope you’re up for it.”

  Humor twitches in his lips, and for the first time since I’ve met this man, I find myself smiling in return. “And I hope you can keep up,” I say.

  Bates grunts, shoving the heavy door open with his shoulder and pushing me through. True to his word, a narrow set of metal stairs greets us in the middle of the small room, twisting up and back and forth as high as the eye can see. Apparently, he wasn’t kidding.

 
“I wasn’t aware the castle had this many floors,” I say, squinting up into the dark. “Is this some sort of bell tower or a secret torture chamber?”

  “Something like that.” He grins, and I notice how perfect happiness seems to fit on his face, rather than the usual scowl I’m so used to seeing. “But I will say it was a favorite place of your mother’s.”

  His words are all I need to give me the final push, and I grab the torch from his hand, pulling it into my own as I tackle the daunting steps. My boots crush against the metal frame with each step, the sound echoing through the empty space that seems to reach up to the very stars. I’ve never been in such complete darkness before, but I’ve also never felt more alive. These stairs are taking me somewhere new, but it’s not the newness that moves my feet.

  It’s because they’re taking me to a piece of my mother.

  Behind me, Bates’ exasperated puffs bounce off the walls around us, and I don’t know which is brighter, the torch or my grin. Finally, the soft edges of a door materialize, made out only by the hesitant light seeping in through its corners. My boots slow to a lazy crawl, and I wait at the top of the stairs as Bates comes to a stop by my side.

  “Before we go out, there’s something I must tell you, Brave,” he says, his gray eyes turning serious. He takes a deep breath, and the ends of his mustache fly up in the most adorable of ways. For a moment, I try to pretend it’s not there. That Vivi’s dreams have come true and it’s been taken away. But then his lips turn up in a slight smile, and I realize he wouldn’t be this odd, confusing character if it weren’t for the dark mustache that curves against his cheeks.

  I’m going to have to tell Vivi to stop pretending she’s shaved it off.

  “Your mother, as I’m sure you’ve learned, always had this thing about hope. Even when things looked their hardest, and you didn’t think you could go on, she had this little saying. And sometimes, when she thought I was looking particularly down, she’d tell it to me. At first, I resisted, but in the end, I found it was the only thing that truly ever made sense.”