by Devri Walls
Tybolt pulled his cloak off the saddle and dismounted. He stepped loudly enough to make sure he didn’t frighten her and knelt down, gently wrapping the cloak around her.
Auriella grabbed the fabric and pulled it tight around her neck. “How did you find me?”
“It wasn’t easy, but you left a piece of your dress on a tree.” He sat down and looked out at the small cabin across the lake. “Where are we?”
“It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t be here.”
“Why not?”
Auriella took a deep breath. “I…I want to trust you, but…” She turned to look at him, and the sight of her face made Tybolt’s heart constrict. Her eye was black and swollen, and there was a red lump on her temple. She was splattered with blood, and Tybolt wasn’t sure if it was hers or not.
“What happened?” He wanted to take her face between his hands but knew better.
“Tybolt, I’m so confused.”
“Trust me, talk to me,” he pleaded.
“I don’t know if I can.”
“Then…” He hesitated. “Trust yourself and follow what your heart tells you.”
She was silent for a while, staring at the house in the clearing. “What does my heart tell me?”
She’d murmured the question to herself, that much was obvious, but he answered anyway. “I was hoping it said I was worth trusting.”
Auriella closed her eyes and pulled the cloak tighter. “I swore I would keep him safe. I never come here, never. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to leave a trail for you to follow. I shouldn’t have come. I just…I didn’t know where else…I haven’t been here in so many years. I miss him.”
Tybolt understood. “Your father?”
“Yes.”
“You told me your father lived just outside the wall.”
“I lied.” She jerked to her feet like she’d been bitten. “I shouldn’t be here.”
Tybolt looked up at her. “Where are you going?”
Her face went slack as she turned back to look at the darkened windows of the cabin. She looked so lost, her face half lit in the moonlight. “I don’t know.”
“Then—” Tybolt pushed to his feet and held out his hand. “Come with me.”
Auriella slowly put her hand in his. “Where?”
“Maybe it’s time I trust you too, Auriella Doshire.”
The King sat on his throne, waiting. Terric finally jerked the door open and walked in.
“Did you take a nap before you answered my summons?”
“I didn’t think you’d want me dripping blood on your royal rugs.” Terric turned his head and motioned to his cheek.
The servant had stitched it up as well as could be expected, but it still looked dreadful. It would scar, and horribly. That was certain.
“Auriella dealt with your dark intentions quite thoroughly, I see.”
“I don’t know what you’re—”
“Don’t bother with your pathetic denials, Terric, you weren’t exactly subtle. There were several witnesses. One of which felt obligated to inform me that my future bride was being assaulted in an alleyway. ”
Terric had the decency to drop into a bow. “My apologies, Your Highness.”
“My bride seems to have left the city as a result of your actions. I need you to bring her back.”
“My king.” Terric looked up, startled. “Auriella knows the woods better than anyone.”
“So I’m told.” Rowan leaned back in his throne. “Before we continue, I’m sure that it goes without saying that she’s not to be harmed. If you were to decide that retribution was in order, there will be consequences.”
“Auriella attacked me on—”
“Let me make myself exceptionally clear—I don’t care.”
Anger flared in Terric’s eyes, replaced quickly by suspicion. “Why me?”
“You mean, why would I trust you after your recent trespasses?” Rowan smiled. “I’m in need of a bride, Terric. Although I’d hoped specifics would be unnecessary, I’ll remind you that your sister is of age if Auriella were to be presented in an unsuitable manner.
Terric’s jaw clenched and his nostrils flared.
“Despite all that I give them, my queens fail so quickly.” Rowan tskd in mock sorrow. “It is a curse.” He leaned forward. Tenting his fingers, he peered over them. “All things considered, I believe I can trust you to keep your hands, and anything else you might consider extending, to yourself.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Perhaps bringing the object of your desire home to hand over to your king will begin to pay your recompense.”
“How am I supposed to find her, Your Majesty?”
Rowan laughed. “You honestly believe she can’t be found? You’re that incapable?”
Terric was silent. His jaw worked as if trying to mash together an acceptable answer.
"Really.” Rowan pursed his lips and tapped his finger against the arm of the throne. “Well then, another route. Something will need to be done to encourage our little bird back to the nest. This encouragement will not be gentle, and frankly, Terric, I think you’ll enjoy it.”
“Your Highness?”
“Auriella hid her father in the thieves’ forest in an attempt to keep me from learning of his existence. Unfortunately, the foolish old man wandered into the village a few years back, trying to convince one of my best Hunters to leave. I had him followed but allowed him to stay hidden, just in case I was ever in need of a little persuasion.”
A smile stretched across Terric’s stitched face, pulling at the skin and making him look even more maniacal than usual.
“I need him brought to me. Can you do it?
“Oh, I can do it.”
“I need him alive.”
Auriella was silent as Tybolt led them through the thieves’ forest and towards the coast. He glanced back repeatedly, concerned at how she slouched in the saddle, clutching her cloak around her. Widow Maker snorted loudly, and Tybolt smelled the salt in the air. They were close.
The horses stepped through the last of the trees, and Tybolt’s conflicting emotions bubbled up. He hadn’t been here since that day—the day the sea swallowed everything he loved. The ground had healed, hiding the fractures that had almost swallowed him with dry brown grass. Out past the cliff, the world seemed to go on forever in an expanse of black. The gentle lapping of the water brought back a rush of memories, and Tybolt could almost smell the fish stew that so frequently had graced their dinner table.
He pulled Widow Maker to a stop and dismounted, letting the reins hang loose so the horse could graze.
“What are we doing here?” Auriella asked.
“I wanted to show you something.” Tybolt reached up and gently pulled her from the horse. He slid his hand through hers and led her towards the edge of the cliff. “Look.”
Auriella looked out to sea and squinted. “What is that?”
It was hard to distinguish in the moonlight, but the rounded skeleton of a lighthouse jutted up from the ocean. “That was my home.”
Tybolt sat and patted the ground next to him. “This cliff used to extend much further out into the bay, and our lighthouse sat right at the edge. Sometimes I still wake in the middle of the night, hearing the crack as the cliff peeled away.” He paused. “I see it too, in my dreams…the lighthouse disappearing from view, my sister still standing in the door. I lost everything that day—my mother, my sister, my home—swallowed by the angriest sea I’ve ever seen.”
“You lived out here until the Fracture.” Auriella’s mouth twisted in a rueful smile. “I never understood how you could be one of us yet not understand so many things. But you were here the whole time, sheltered from everything.” She looked over at him, her face a play in light and shadows beneath the moon. “Tell me about your childhood,” she whispered.
“I’ll make you a deal—my childhood for yours.”
She shuddered. “You don’t want to hear about mine.”
“I do.” He gently touched her cheek. She flinch
ed away.
Tybolt lay back and looked up at the night sky speckled with brilliant dots of white and silver. The stars winked at him, just as they had when he was child. “We ran the lighthouse. My mother and my older sister made sure the light was always burning. I carried the wood to keep the fire going. When I wasn’t doing that, I was usually on the beach, running in the waves and playing with the crabs.”
Auriella laughed. “Playing with the crabs?”
Tybolt grinned. “Oh, I loved it, it was like a hunt. They hide beneath the wet sand so you can’t see them. If you wait until the tide goes out, you’ll see tiny bubbles appear above where they’re buried. My sister and I would shove our hands in the wet sand as fast as we could and yank them out. Myla would drop them as soon as she found them, worried one would pinch her. But I would hold my palm out flat with that little crab on it to torture our dog. It would dance around me, barking and snarling, and the crab would hold up its claws and snap them at the dog.” He smiled. “I’d laugh until my sister would make me release the poor thing.”
“You had a dog?”
“We did. Dumb thing. It always escaped and ran down the beach, then I would have to go after him.” Tybolt went silent and his smile faded. “That’s where I was the night of the Fracture.”
Auriella looked down at her clasped fingers. “Your childhood sounds wonderful.”
“It was, mostly. My mother was a great cook, but I always complained about her fish stew. We had it so often. What I wouldn’t give for a bowl now.”
“Who caught the fish?”
“My sister or me.”
“What about your father?”
“Never knew him.”
“Your sister and mother, how often did they go into the village?”
“They didn’t.”
She looked over at him. “Never?”
“No, we had to stay at the lighthouse to make sure the fire didn’t go out.”
“But how did you get things you needed, like flour?”
Tybolt opened his mouth, then shut it again. “I…I don’t know.” He hadn’t ever thought about things like that as a child. Food and clothes and anything else they needed were always just…there.
Auriella wrapped her arms around her knees and stared out at the ocean. “Your family was blessed to be able to stay here. The village wasn’t safe for a female Hunter.”
“But that’s where you were.”
Auriella’s expression closed and she turned away.
Tybolt sat up, wanting to turn her around. “Auriella, please. You can’t keep shutting me out like this. I like you. You must see that, but you won’t let me in.”
She snorted. “You don’t like me, Tybolt. It’s called lust.”
Tybolt didn’t know if it was what she said, or the disgust in her voice as she said it, but it sliced through him with a fury. “Don’t tell me what I feel,” he said.
“It’s what everyone feels for me. They feel something because of the way I look. They don’t know me at all.”
“You won’t let anyone know you. Do you want the truth? When I first met you, I thought you were cold, aloof, and every bit the wench everyone said you were.”
She finally turned, her face awash in shock. “You never thought that I was…was—”
“Beautiful? Of course I did. I’m not blind. But the first time the king paired us for a hunt, I wasn’t happy. I had no desire to spend three days with the “Ice Queen”. Once we were away from the castle, I started to see who you were. I would watch you when you didn’t think I was, and I gained a little respect for you. Every hunt after that I liked you more. You, Auriella. Not your eyes, not your body, you. I would’ve fallen in love with you a long time ago if you would just give me something to hold onto.” As he said the word love, something within him lurched. “Wizard’s spawn,” he swore, “I would move mountains for you, Auriella.”
She looked at him with wonder, her eyes searching his. “What do you want to know?”
Tybolt sagged with relief. “Anything, everything.” He moved to his knees and took her hands in his. “I want to see you,” he whispered.
Tears glistened in the moonlight, pooling in the corners of her eyes. “It’s not pretty.”
“You think I don’t know that?” He cautiously touched the underside of her jaw. Her skin was so soft, like velvet beneath his fingers. “I can see the pain—I’ve always seen it. Help me understand it.”
Auriella didn’t want to dive into the pain, not when she was feeling more than she’d felt in years. But the need in Tybolt’s eyes was something she couldn’t deny.
“You don’t understand what happens when people desire someone they detest. It turns into cruelty so base…” She shuddered. “When I was growing up, it didn’t matter where I went—I was shouted at, grabbed, groped, spat on. They hated the Hunters for our immunity to wizards’ power, but they hated us more because our beauty stirred something in them they didn’t want to feel.”
Tybolt’s eyes had turned to flint, but she forced herself to continue. “We lived outside the walls, and my father went to town for us, to keep us safe from the men in the village, but many came looking for us. Shortly before the Fracture, my father was gone and a wizard came to the door. My mother—” Her voice cracked and she stopped.
Tybolt scooted closer and held out his arm, offering to hold her. “May I?”
Auriella’s whole body trembled. She wanted to, but…“I haven’t let a man touch me since he came, since he walked into—” She clamped her mouth shut.
The next thing she knew, Tybolt’s arms were around her. She stiffened, her heart pounding in her chest. He was so close she could smell him.
But then his lips were at her ear, whispering that it would be all right. His voice was soft and gentle, his breath tickling down her neck, and for the first time the intimacy didn’t make her nauseous.
And the words he whispered, she believed them. She had no reason to—nothing had ever been all right, not from the moment she came blinking into this cold, cruel world. But here with him, she could almost feel it, that thing she’d longed for without understanding it—happiness, and here with him it was beautiful. Her heart opened like a cracking and dusty door that had forgotten long ago how to open. She wanted to fill it up with something warm and wonderful, with Tybolt. She slowly stopped shaking and relaxed into him.
“Tell me about the wizard,” he said.
She leaned her head against his shoulder and inhaled deeply. He smelled of woods and leather with a hint of soap. He smelled of sunshine and fresh air and hope. She closed her eyes. “He came to pick up a bridle my father had been repairing in the blacksmith’s shop. My mother should’ve known better than to go out there, but the wizard wouldn’t stop shouting. I followed her. The wizard told her the bridle wasn’t done to satisfaction, and he wanted a refund.
“He didn’t want a refund. I could see it in his eyes. I was only ten, but I’d seen that look in more men’s eyes than I could count. He shoved my mother to the ground and crawled over her. Watching my mother there on the ground while he—” She gritted her teeth and grabbed a fistful of Tybolt’s shirt. “I was so angry. I found a poker in the fire and crept up behind him. My mother saw me. Our eyes met and I knew. I took that poker and I shoved it through his back. I was small, but I had my Hunter strength. My mother pushed the wizard backwards as I rammed the poker forward. It passed clean through his back and out his chest.”
“You killed him?”
“He stumbled out and headed towards the woods. Someone saw him leaving and alerted the king’s men. They followed the trail of blood, but the wizard’s body was never found.”
“But if you killed a wizard—”
“My mother took the blame. They hung her two days later.”
There was silence, and Auriella could feel Tybolt trembling. She could tell by the tension in his arms that it was not from cold.
“Thank you,” she said.
“For what?”
&nb
sp; “For caring.” A deep weariness blanketed her. “I’m so tired.”
Tybolt pulled her closer. “Sleep then.” His voice cracked. “I’ll watch over you.”
“I don’t want to marry the king, Tybolt. I just want to live in peace.”
“Hush now.” He said it so gently she wondered for a moment if she was dreaming. Auriella breathed in deeply again, using his scent to chase away everything but sleep.
Tybolt spent the night listening to the ocean and feeling the rise and fall of Auriella’s breathing. In front of him, the sun warned of its arrival, coloring the sky ever so subtly. Tybolt cursed it and willed it back down—he wasn’t ready to lose this night. The light ignored him and broke the horizon. Rays of gold rushed across the water. The yellow tendrils enveloped the pieces of broken glass in the lantern frame of the lighthouse. For a moment it shone as it once had.
Auriella stirred and he looked down at her, desperate to take in how her eyelashes brushed her cheeks and the way her dark hair fell across his chest. She uncurled from him and stretched, yawning. He watched every movement—the way her fingers splayed out, how she rolled her head to one side. It was the sweetest sight he’d ever seen, and he was seized with a determination to see it every morning. There was only one way to make that happen.
“I have an idea,” Tybolt said.
Auriella pushed her hair out of her face and over her shoulders. “About what?”
“How to keep you from marrying the King. I think I can find Alistair.”
“Tybolt, I know you want to help, but we’ve all looked for years—”
“Would you agree that my source is reliable?”
“Yeeees,” she drug out. “But he’s never—”
“Last night he told me he knows where Alistair is.”
Auriella’s eyes grew wide. “Tybolt, that’s…that’s amazing! Is he sure?”
“He sounded sure, and if he’s right, the payment is forty pieces of gold. Enough to get you off this island.”
Auriella’s eyes gleamed for a second, but then she shook her head. “No. If the king learns what you did, he’ll come after you, he’ll—”
