My voice longs to comfort him, to whisper soothing words in his ear. Words that speak of a boy and a girl lost in each other, with nothing but the towering trees and endless stars to keep them company. Words of Bravest Penelope and the arrogant Aras Renn, whose only wish is to make her smile, and make her smile again. But I don’t make a sound. Not one little peep. Not when the sweat begins to pour across my brow, dripping across my eyelashes, making the fiery mark blur and fade within my vision. Not even when his shoulders begin to shake, and I can feel the hesitant tendrils of my will, winding their way up his throat and toward his mind. Nor when their wispy strands finally hit a wall, an impenetrable rock standing guard and sealing his will from my reach.
My father’s curse.
Hesitantly, the strands reach out, skimming along the rock’s surface for the even the smallest of cracks—a break in the magic that my father forgot to patch. It’s our only option. The only thing that will set Aras free. I have to find it, because if I don’t do it now, there’s no going back. And then, like a dying star, sparkling against the black before exploding into space, a tiny portion of the rock shifts, revealing the blood-red magic that lives within.
Instantly, I pounce.
“I said stop it!” Aras yells, knees giving way as he drops from beneath my fingertips, falling to the floor. His hands fly to his face, cupping his cheeks as his breaths roar against my ears, jarring me to the present in the deathly silent room.
My hands grip my chest, desperate to calm the racing beat from within. My throat hiccups with a threatened sob, but I close my lips tight, biting on their edges to keep the strangled sound from finding its way out. Aras stirs on the floor, his shaking fingers sliding their way through his tangled curls. Out of instinct, I place a cool palm against his back, fingers splayed against the curiously faded mark.
“Don’t touch me!” he snarls, jumping to his feet. In one fluid motion, the entire counter is cleared as he rakes his arm across the sink, sending the bandages and cleaning supplies crashing to the floor. His eyes flash like heated flames at my reflection, staring wordlessly at his anger in the mirror. When I make no effort to move, his scowl becomes deadly.
“Aras?”
“Get out! Leave!” he spits, heaving as if he wishes he could toss me into the mirror, if only to cast me from his sight. “Now, Penelope Brave, I mean it!”
The strangled sob I tried so hard to contain finally breaks loose, and I squint my eyes, begging the tears to hold off until I’m away from his presence. Until he can no longer witness the haunted look that swims in my eyes, consuming my hope and leaving me a mindless shell. My hand finds its way to my mouth, holding in the sounds that my pressed lips threaten to let past. I can’t do this, I realize. I can’t. I was so close—Aras’ locked will less than inches away. But now, I can’t help but feel as if I only proved how far apart we are. And the truth of it all can only come down to one final, very important piece.
Aras gave up his will because he wanted to; it was his choice. Now the only way I can help him is if he wants it back.
Turning away, I let the sobs break loose, rocking my shoulders and shuddering across my chest. The tears blind me, leaving me lost in an endless ocean of hurt and regret. Of loss. And it’s not until I fling myself headfirst on my bed, curling up tight so my knees can muffle the sound of my screams, that I allow myself to understand what this all really means.
Aras is lost to me, and the last thing he wants is to be found.
Thirty-Six
“There once was a girl, no taller than a knee. She lived in the woods, and she swung from the trees. And when the boys teased her, she could only laugh with glee. For there’s no other soul who was stronger than she.”
It’s my mother’s song, Vivi informed me. Sung to her on those days when she was feeling particularly down about her terrible father and the prison he held her in. It’s a song about me, she said. Written about the myth of a girl who would one day rescue her blood. Her sister. Her kin.
“So for the star’s sake, please get out of bed.”
That was on the first day she found me curled in a ball, the torrent of tears then long dried from their marring mess against my linen pants. She had sat there for hours, rubbing my back in numbing circles, singing her song until I finally gave in and asked her to stop. But the silence was worse. For it was then when I could hear her tiny sobs as she began to cry.
I haven’t been to bed since.
Instead, I’ve ghosted about our chambers, content to convince Vivi that I’m alive, even if barely so. I take long naps on the balcony, soaking up warm, summery rays, and I sit for hours in front of our vanity, allowing Sireen to mold my hair into the most intricate of braids. Mother and Papa stop by several times a day. They never say much, but then again, they’ve never had to. It’s their looks, their lingering hugs that say thousands more than words ever could. And Ian, oh Ian. He’s there, too. A quiet presence, a tray full of the yummiest of foods. A careful gaze that speaks of longing and measured distance all the same. But every now and then, he reaches out, taking my hand in his. Together, we sit, staring out into the blue Theron sky—so much said without a single word leaving our lips.
I secretly long for those moments, because they make me feel as if I’m really here and not some distant cloud, peering down and watching with twisted humor from above. He’s my anchor, Ian, but I’m still not sure if I’ll sink or if I’ll float.
“I don’t know why we’re wasting this time waiting around for that fool,” Vivi says, stretching her arms above her head as she yawns. “If he wants to be seen, we’ll be the first to know it.”
We lay on our backs against the stone balcony floor, watching as the darkening sky swirls with the makings of a storm. It’s been two days since my failed rescue in Aras’ washroom. Two days since I’ve succumbed to living out of our chambers, rather than face the questioning stares of our Theron hosts.
Two days since I’ve seen Aras. Two days since anyone else has seen him as well.
“I’m only hanging close because I want to see him when he gets back. I can’t help but feel as though I owe him something.” And though I don’t say what, it feels more and more like an apology with every building hour we’re apart.
As if sensing my hidden thoughts, Vivi twists her head until our eyes meet. “Sometimes, I can’t understand what it is that makes you love him so much. I mean, it’s not that I don’t know love, because I do. I love you and Mother, and I love Aras as the brother he once was. But this kind of love… it’s different… like it’s made up of something else altogether, and I can’t help but feel as though I’ll never find a boy who can crush my heart, yet make it beat faster for him all the same.”
Her open words take me aback, and I watch her closely in the dying light, blinking several times to make sure I can see her straight. The relaxed set of her jaw. The small, wistful smile begging to break loose on her lips. It’s the look of my little sister, yet not. In this moment, she is older, wiser, and fourteen at the very least. But she’s also sad. Sad and slightly confused.
“You never have to go looking for love, Vivi,” I say, entwining my fingers with her own. “Love finds you.”
She nods her head, the smallest of movements tugging her braid against the rough floor. Apparently, this bit she already knew. “Then why does it always have to be so dark and dreary?”
“From the very second I stepped outside of Ashen’s gates, I learned that blood is not what gives you love. Love is a choice—a decision one must make and battle to keep. It is never easy, nor should it be. Love pushes. It pulls. It breaks. It hurts. But it also heals. I do not love you because you are my sister; I love you because I choose to.”
“And that’s why you still love Aras, even when it hurts?”
“Yes, even when it hurts. My love for Aras is a choice I made long ago, and if I want to keep it, I must work hard and hold it tight. Love finds you, yes, but it never promises to stay. You must make that decision on your own.
” I sit up, pulling her with me. “I choose you, Vivi. I choose Papa, Mother, and the people of Ashen. I choose Ian. And even when it threatens to pull me under and toss me into the raging seas, I choose Aras. I always will.”
My words settle over her like a heavy blanket, wrapping her up tight and tucking her in to a blissful sleep. She blinks several times, removing any evidence of unshed tears. Cupping my cheek with her hand, she grins from ear to ear. “And we choose you, my brave sister. Every last one of us, to the ends of the stars and back.”
I laugh, pulling her into a hug that threatens to never release. “I love you, Vivi. I truly do. But if Sireen comes in here to find that neither one of us are in bed, we’re going to be in for a stern talking to. And you know how I feel about those.”
Vivi breaks away, tugging my braid through her fingers as she rises to her feet. “Alright, alright. I’ll get ready for bed. You know, sometimes having a big sister is eerily similar to having a second mom. I’m not sure if I find it annoying or not.”
“Time shall tell,” I tease, ducking when she threatens to muss my hair as she walks past me and into our room.
It’s not been a minute when her head pokes back out the doors, and this time, her smart words about my mothering ring true. “Vivi, you haven’t had time to gather your nightclothes, much less wash your face. You can’t tell me—”
But a single look in her direction stops my reprimand.
“Vivi? What is it?”
Her green eyes widen like an animal peering through the night, caught between the need to escape and the desire to hunt. I’ve already broken into a cold sweat, pulse singing like a butterfly’s wings, when her words finally tumble out. “Aras is in his room, and I think someone might be with him.”
Thirty-Seven
“You do realize what this means?” the voice drawls, thick and rehearsed. Words that if I didn’t know better, were planned long before they entered the confines of Aras’ low-lit room.
It’s a tenor that scrapes against the soft skin of my neck, tugging my shoulders up tight as if they alone could shield my ears. One that rings with distrust and outright anger. It’s a voice I’m worried I should know.
Whoever it is, he’s here because Aras must have sent word to Knox—word that I botched the reclaiming of his will.
“That she’s as strong as he had predicted all along?” Aras asks, causing me to press even closer to the slight gap in our secret wall, begging my ears to pick up the slack. If there was ever a time to be a giant cat with limitless hearing for miles, it would be now when I’m squished against my chamber’s door with my little sister’s breath sending hot puffs of anxiety across my cheek.
“Exactly,” the voice replies, an amused laugh tilting the end of his words. “But that will only make her all the more fun to take down, now won’t it?”
Vivi’s features grow wary—the only light pooling in through our open balcony doors casting a filmy haze across her face. She inches forward, angling her body to see if she can get a better look of Aras’ guest, but my hand juts out, stopping her as Aras begins to speak again.
“So that’s still the plan?” he asks, indifference lining his tone. “Allow her to marry, take out the Theron prince and his parents, and then take her out ourselves when she doesn’t bend to his will?” He scoffs, boots pounding as he stalks toward his balcony doors. “And you know she won’t submit herself. Not to him and not to anyone else.”
“You’re forgetting the bigger picture, Aras. This has never been about the girl. Yes, she is our opening to the Theron court, but she isn’t the heir to the Orien throne. At least, not the way Knox sees it.”
Vivi’s fingers squeeze my knee, and though I don’t dare breathe a word, I do manage several good blinks in her direction. It’s enough to let her know I’m still alive and kicking, rather than hyperventilating on the floor as I long to do. Not the heir to the Orien throne, huh? Knox may not see it that way, but I certainly do. Despite my humble beginnings, I have every intention of taking Orien out of his hands.
“I know she’s not going to be the true heir.” Aras bristles, and I press into the wall, struggling to hear his tired speech. “That much has been drilled into me since the very second I joined our circle. I think we should be wary of her power, that’s all.”
“And you think the four of us, plus our master, are not enough to end her? You truly think we don’t hold enough power to take her down? And you better not mention the cat and her mother again. Emory can be controlled, a pet on the king’s short leash, and her mother doesn’t have enough strength to defend herself again. It’s a miracle she survived in the first place. Trust me when I say there won’t be anything left to salvage the second time around.” The man laughs, and I flinch back, knocking into Vivi’s chin in my retreat. “My, my Aras. You must have been very smitten with her in your past. I’ve always wondered what it was that made us all turn away from our former lives. Most of us are so caught up in our master’s thoughts that we don’t have the time to consider our reasons for coming upon this path. But not you; you’re different. You live for Knox, yes, but you also live for something else. Someone else, to be exact. You live for her.”
“Then you also ought to know when you’ve pushed me far enough,” Aras seethes.
Instantly, the whole room bursts into a radiant light. Vivi lets out a low whimper, shielding her eyes from the sudden onslaught of red flames. I throw my arms over her tiny body, wrapping her up to keep her from squealing again. The cracked door jars, banging once on its delicate frame, and I swallow a breath, hoping Aras’ fiery show is enough to steal the attention. Relief washes over me when no one comes to investigate our dangerous mistake, but once I look up into Aras’ room, it’s only short-lived.
The door has managed to widen enough for me to see the two men as they circle each other, Aras’ features angry and taut in the fire’s light. He lunges forward, fully intent on scorching his guest, when his flames abruptly fizzle, disappearing from his palms with a hissing steam. Wonder catches on his face, still lit by his opponent’s sturdy flame.
“You see,” the man says, extinguishing his fire. “You are no longer a servant of your own desires, but a puppet of our master’s will. What Knox doesn’t warrant, you cannot do. When the time comes, you will destroy Penelope Brave, for it’s not only our master’s request—it is also your destiny. Then, and only then, will you be able to move into the role that has been secured for you all along. When Knox can no longer rule, he will entrust you with his most valuable possession yet—his magic.”
“And I’ll no longer be his puppet.”
“No,” the man replies, making my skin prickle when his palms light up again, revealing the sneering face of Hammel as he takes Aras in. “You’ll be him.”
“And I won’t regret it,” he replies, his cooled assurance freezing my heart.
“How could you?” Hammel laughs, clasping his shoulder. “It’s not as if you’ll be able to remember who you were.”
The two men make their way toward Aras’ door, as if they’re close friends who have had the nicest of conversations. Nothing of which involves dark magic, dangerous lies, or the maiming of a princess.
“And Knox’s plans for arrival haven’t shifted, given her brazen attempts to undo his promise?” Aras asks as he opens the door.
“Not in the least,” Hammel says, and I can imagine the oily grin now swallowing his face. “Knox will arrive a day ahead of the wedding. Penelope Brave and all of Theron’s court will be dead by sunup.”
Vivi’s shoulders stiffen, and I hug her tighter, if only to remind me that I’m still here, and not ten feet under water, struggling to break the surface of an endless pool of grief.
“But I thought the whole point was to make it seem as though the girl was married to Ian, thereby sealing Orien’s claim to the Theron throne. The city of Theron will never bend to the will of Knox if they think he’s massacred their royal line. The commoners may not hold the same blocking powers as th
eir royalty, but they will put up enough of a fight to give us some trouble. We can’t take them by ourselves… it’s why we needed the girl. We can battle one at a time, while she can send every one of them to their knees at once.”
“Open your eyes, Aras,” Hammel said, pulling him out into the hall. “Knox isn’t going to be performing any massacre. He’ll actually be saving the entire city from the princess who went rogue. It’s too much for one person to carry such a powerful magic within her blood, you know. And that’s why she snapped. It so happens that their new king was there to salvage what he could. By the time Knox has finished his heroic story of the day he saved Theron from a princess bent on their destruction, the whole city will be kneeling at his feet.”
When the door to the hallway finally shuts, Vivi bolts from her place on the floor, yanking us toward our bed. Her movements, while quick, are alarmingly quiet, and it’s this silence that worries me the most.
“Vivi,” I whisper, trying to catch her gaze as she throws back the sheets, flopping onto the bed. She turns away, curling her knees to her chest. “Vivi, please. Say something. I know that wasn’t what we were expecting to hear from Aras and Hammel, or at least, not what we hoped, but now that we know what they have planned, we can stay ahead of them. Knox isn’t going to win, Vivi.” I reach out, rolling her over to face me where I sit by her side. “Aras was right about one thing—I am strong, and I will not go down without a fight.”
Even when it seems as though I’ve already lost…
Vivi’s eyes finally flash to mine, a blurry mist building in their emerald depths. “I’m scared,” she whispers, biting her bottom lip when it threatens to tremble. “I’m so very scared, Brave, and I find it to be one of the foulest feelings in the entire world. It’s ruthless and cruel, sucking the very spirit from my bones like a witch with jagged teeth. I can’t take it, sister, for if we fail, I fear the pain will be too much.”
“Vivi,” I soothe, pulling her into my arms until her head rests snuggly underneath my chin. “We won’t fail, my heart. This news changes our plans for sure, but it’s not like we didn’t know Father had sinister motives all along. We only hoped we’d be able to end him before he could follow through—”
The Darkest Night (The Orien Trilogy Book 2) Page 23
