His tone startles me, not because it’s rude or condescending, but because it isn’t. It’s actually somewhat normal and dare I say… friendly. He must be even more concerned than I thought.
“What of you?” I ask between messy bites of rabbit. “And before you try to tell me otherwise, I know that you haven’t rested well either. If you think it’s necessary, let me take first watch and you get some rest. Trust me; it wouldn’t hurt to have some coherent moments to myself to think things through.”
Aras shrugs as if rest is a waste of time to someone as superior as he. “And what if I enjoy watching you sleep?”
I laugh, showing what I’m sure is a yummy mouthful of meat. “Is this your way of saying I should sleep with my dagger clutched in my grip?”
As he gazes intently through the fire, his teeth flash a brilliant white. I have the horrible urge to douse the flames between us, just to be nearer to this dangerous creature who pulls at me in the worst of ways.
“Maybe,” he whispers with a twitch of his lip.
And just like that, I’m upon my feet with a thin blanket and makeshift pack pillow in hand. Rounding the fire, I almost collide with his outstretched feet before stumbling to a stop. “Sleep, Aras. As your Orien princess, I command it.”
Tossing my supplies at his face and spinning on my toes, I don’t even spare him a glance to see if he’s following my decree. Instead, I pound back over to my place by the fire and turn my eyes upon the woods before us.
As night trickles on and our fire burns at a steady pace, I finally risk a glance in his direction. Surprisingly, he lies still, mouth slightly parted with his perfect features settled into a comfortable ease. The sight of him there, drifting off into a peaceful sleep, teases my nerves with a heavy spark. Once again, I find my eyes darting away, my skin uncomfortable with the more-than-friendly knowledge of this boy and how he sleeps.
I’m so embarrassed to have caught myself gazing at Aras’ sleeping form that it takes a second for another thought to register among my senses. What exactly do I look like when I’m asleep, and for the love of all things Ashen, what does Aras think? It’s in that moment that I make a secret vow to myself. One that I will tell no one and no one alone.
I’m never going to sleep again.
Twenty-One
Morning breaks with a soft shove against my shoulders, and I open my eyes to find the dying smoke of the fire as it dwindles and curls its way up into the dawning sky above. I’m not the least bit surprised to find that just as with most foolhardy promises I try to make for myself, I have once again failed to follow through.
I never have cared much for looks anyway.
Carefully, I push up on my arms, raising my chest from the ground while trying to look self-assured as my wavy hair threatens to strangle me in place. With a quick hand, I grab hold of the mess, once again forgoing the neat side braid and pulling it back into a lumpy bun. Sadly, I don’t need to look at him to know he’s fighting a laugh.
“Darcy had eighteen long years, and yet she still failed to properly teach you how to bind that nest?”
“Hey,” I shout, pretending to be more output by his degrading of Darcy rather than of myself. “That’s my fake aunt you’re talking about. Watch it!”
His chin tilts to the dew-dusted ground, arms crossed against his chest as he scolds me like a rebellious puppy. “I’m only teasing, Bravest. Must you take everything with such a great sense of wrath?”
“Maybe I’m just sensitive about my hair,” I say, pouting.
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t be.”
My eyes shoot up to meet his own, but he’s already turned his back, busying himself with his pack. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say there’s a faint, reddish hue crawling up the side of his olive-skinned neck. But of course, I do know better, and Aras doesn’t give honest compliments. Or blush.
Awkward tension all but smothers our camp, and I stand, determined to find any form of relief. Stretching my limbs, I’m surprised to find them loose for the first time in days. The tight binding of my muscles that I’ve become so accustomed to has all but vanished, leaving me somewhat refreshed for a girl who has been tromping through forbidden woods.
“You know,” I call to his back, as if we weren’t studiously trying to avoid each other, “they say that wild hair is a sign of good sleep. At least that’s what Sara always told me anyway.”
He turns, finally looking me in the eye before exploring my sleep-rumpled form. “Now that you mention it, you do look better.”
I furrow my brows.
“I just mean that you look like you’ve actually slept and not tossed about all night with fitful dreams. You didn’t call out like you did before, so I’m taking this as a sign that your sanity is slowly returning.” Finally satisfied that his pack is bound and ready, he tosses it to the side before mumbling under his breath. “And not a moment too soon, I might add.”
I squeeze my lips into a tight line, refusing to give him the lashing he so clearly deserves, not because I’m feeling particularly nice, but because his words send my thoughts into a spiraling mess. I did sleep well last night, didn’t I? In fact, I haven’t slept that soundly in weeks. And there’s only one difference.
I didn’t dream.
Not one single thought comes back to me from the night, and it’s as if I closed my eyes for a mere second, only to open them again upon morning light. The panther didn’t come to me, not since I last left him in my escape. Tiny chills climb up my arms, and I hastily drag my hands down my sleeves to wipe them away. I’m not completely sure this is a good thing. Oblivious to my dilemma, Aras shoves the last of our rabbit into my hands.
“Eat. We leave as soon as you’re ready.”
This time, even the kindest of my personalities couldn’t save him. “You best tread lightly, Aras. I’m feeling better, which means I must be getting over these difficulties I’ve been experiencing. What makes you think I won’t suddenly snap and burn you to a crisp?”
Aras, of all things, responds with an annoying roll of his eyes. “I said that you have magic in your blood, Bravest, not that you know how to use it. You couldn’t light a campfire to save your life, much less send me into a blazing ball of flames.”
“Is that so?” I ask, clenching my fists. Though I do feel a subtle difference humming through my bones, I know his words carry truth. I don’t know the first thing about fire. Or magic. Or anything remotely evil, apparently. Although my dream panther has given me reassurance that I won’t end up becoming anything other than myself, it’s still interesting to know actual fire can somehow shoot from my being. At least, it’s nice to know I can always threaten Aras with it.
Before I can think better of it and call rational, nonviolent thoughts to mind, I rush to his side, not halting until we’re standing toe to toe. “Well then, we’ll just be waiting until the day I learn, now, won’t we? Watch your back, Aras. I’d hate for you to get burned.”
His eyes widen, and a slow smile starts to spread across his lips. “And that’s the Bravest I was looking for. No more of this running off into the woods and crying business just because you’ve found out that you’ve been blessed with a power that may be strong enough to turn the tides. If you’re ever going to amount to anything, you have to embrace it. Use it. Now when the time comes, you just might be ready.”
I shove away, my head begging for space. “Do you always speak in riddles, Aras? Turning the tides and using magic when I’m ready. You know I understand nothing of your land or your people. I’m not some magical saving grace come to solve all of Orien’s problems.”
“Ahhh, now there’s where you’re wrong, Bravest, and when you’re ready, I’ll tell you why. But until then,” he says, grabbing his things and heading toward the woods, “we’ve got a friend to meet.”
“Then I guess I’ll just chew on the way,” I all but growl, ripping off a hunk of the meat with my teeth and snatching my pack before tromping after him.
ↄ
Save for one scattering of birds, high above in the twisted limbs, the woods continue to hold to their vow of eerie silence. Then again, so does Aras, but his silence isn’t eerie so much as it is a welcome reprieve. I think we’ve both come to the common understanding that the less we talk, the better, so as to preserve the comforting beat of our hearts.
Although the quiet is nice, it doesn’t necessarily bring about a sense of peace. When I’m not on edge, worried the whispers will hound my ears once again, I’m thinking of Papa. Of what he must have felt. Walking through these woods. Alone. At least I have the aggravatingly confident steps of Aras to keep me company. I can’t imagine doing this by myself, even though I know grief has a funny way of outwitting the mind and pushing the soul. It does me now.
It’s almost noon, or what I think should be, when Aras comes to a stop, causing my nose to narrowly miss crashing into his shoulder. I scowl at his back before plastering my face with the most neutral of expressions. Mustn’t let him know my perpetually foul mood has the potential to threaten his well-being all the time.
“We’re coming up close,” he says, expertly hiding a jump when he looks over his shoulder and notices me standing so close. “I only say this now because I want the best for your future, but it’s better if you just follow along and let me do most of the talking.”
I nearly huff, and the halt of it causes a hot burn to ooze within my chest. “And what exactly is my story… in the rare instance I should need to use my brain?”
He runs a shaky hand through his disheveled hair, and my stomach drops at the sight of it. Surely, he hesitates because he’s tired and not because he’s about to unknowingly get me killed.
“Well, maybe you’ll be my recruit of sorts. I haven’t gotten it quite all figured out yet, but one thing is for sure. It’s not the truth, and it won’t ever be while we’re in these woods. The Lost are used to my visits, but not so much the presence of Bates. It’s my understanding that he caused quite a stir with his trip to Ashen, although he was quick to cover his tracks with the story of checking your city’s allegiances, if you know what I mean.”
“No, Aras, I don’t know what you mean,” I say dully, widening my eyes for full effect.
“Oh, come on, Bravest! Everyone knows that Emory left, and Bates was there on cover to make sure the rest of them didn’t follow suit. It’s not that hard to pick up.”
This time, I do huff. Aras is wrong. It is hard when you’ve only just awoken to this new world. “And this friend of yours. What does he think of your adventures through his woods?”
“The same as everyone,” Aras says with an arrogant tinge to his voice. “It’s no secret I work for the queen. It’s also no secret that she and Emory were close. It’s part of why he and his followers were exiled after all, and The Lost can always sympathize with that. I’m their messenger, plain and simple. It’s just The Lost have no idea what my messages were really about. Both Emory and your mother are held with high esteem in these woods, so if there is anyone safe here, it’s me.”
His words, while they comfort me some, do very little for my ill mood or the general liking of my guide. “Well, Aras, I’m glad to hear that I won’t have to witness your brutal capture, but I would like some assurance that I won’t have to experience my own.”
His irritated features soften, and he places what I’m sure is supposed to be a reassuring squeeze upon my shoulder. “I’ll never let anything happen to you, Bravest. As long as you’re with me, we’ll make it to Orien just as planned. I’m just asking that you keep a tight lip. That’s all.”
“But why do we need the help of this friend, and why would he be interested in a new recruit? Is that what people are doing these days? Wandering around in the woods in an attempt to join up with The Lost?”
He pauses then, taking deep breaths through his nose in an attempt to level his temper, as if I could be the frustrating one in this scenario. “You asked me about learning to use your magic, and the more prepared you are when you meet Knox, the better. This friend of mine has an associate who dabbles in it, so to speak, and my plan is to get him to teach me a few things. Then, if you’ll actually listen, perhaps I can teach you. And yes, Bravest, people choose to join The Lost all the time. The Lost can be helpful if you both have the same end game in mind.”
“Dabbles in magic?” I breathe, momentarily stunned by his words. “I thought this was some unique gift, passed down through a tyrant’s reign? Not something you could just wake up one morning and decide you want to do.”
“It isn’t, at least not your kind of magic, but there are still some who have learned a few things, and I think what they have to say might be of importance.”
I shrug, not willing to commit to this insane idea either way. “And this friend, does he know you seek magic for me? Is that what I’m coming to him for?”
His eyes darken. “No, and he won’t know it either. As far as he knows, I’m sticking my nose into trouble for myself and no one else. You, on the other hand, are just along for the adventure.”
He pats himself on the chest, a confident smile plastered across his lips. Clearly, he considers himself to be quite the quest.
“Oh, how I wish,” I muse, twisting a stray stand of hair around my finger. The mention of magic has piqued my interest, but I’m not so sure I like the idea of some rogue magician teaching Aras to pull any more tricks out of his already well-stocked arsenal. I’m also unsure of the thought of Aras trying to teach me anything detrimental to my health. We’re more likely to set us both aflame than accomplish anything productive. So far, his plan seems to hold little promise for my welfare, if any.
Aras must sense my hesitation because his hand drops, leaving an empty warmth along my shoulder. “Just keep your mouth shut and we’ll be fine,” he says tightly, turning back to the invisible path ahead.
Watching him leave, I consider tossing my pack with all of my might and nailing him in the head, but despite my anger, I can’t justifiably admit to being that crazed. With a sigh, I follow his step, understanding that though he may lead me astray, at least he is leading me somewhere. I trust him when he says he won’t intentionally let harm come my way. He apparently owes Papa and my mother that much.
It’s his judgment that I don’t trust.
I’m so deep in my own thoughts of doubt and unease that I don’t notice the darkening of the trees until the smell of waffling smoke assaults my nose. It looks nearly dusk, yet the woods are alive with the bustling of movement. My stomach twists, and all at once, the whispers crash into my ears, so forceful that I can’t make out a single distinct sound from the next. Aras turns, and I think his lips move, but his words are lost in a sea of calls that threaten to pull me under. I’m about to reach for him, a cry forming in my throat, when a flash of black catches the corner of my eye. Wildly, I turn in circles, my eyes searching for what I know isn’t true. I begin to fall before Aras catches me, stilling me in his arms. My chin rests upon his strong shoulder, and I clutch onto him as if he is the only one in this world who could ever hold me up. A curling, black tail darts out, disappearing into the trees, and the whispers die with it. My heart races for what cannot be.
My dreams have come alive.
“Aras,” I ask, my voice muffled by his shirt. “Who exactly is this friend of yours?”
Instinctively or not, his arms tighten around my back. “Why, the newly appointed leader of The Lost, of course.”
Twenty-Two
My heart beats with a steady rhythm, and despite my best efforts to breathe with a deep calm, I can still hear it pounding in my ears. You shouldn’t be here, it says. You should run. But this time, I don’t run. I don’t escape. I just hold tightly to Aras’ arm as he leads me down the winding path, while the heavy smoke dances like ghostly feet above our heads. When we get close enough that I can see the flames clearly through the trees, he stops, placing a warm hand upon my arm that is still entangled with his own. My eyes jump to his face, and I see the apologies written
there before I hear them. Swiftly, and without a word, I pull my arm back.
Clearly, any form of attachment is not a part of my cover.
Aras moves to speak, but I reach out, placing a cool finger to his lips. He startles, but I don’t pull back. The panther’s warning is still warm on my ears. “Just promise me you’ll keep us both safe,” I breathe.
He nods, and my finger slides down his chin, leaving a whisper of heat in its path before resting by my side. Aras stares at me for a moment—a contagious spark in his eye. One that, despite all of our dealings, I’ve yet to see. Although every nerve in my body tells me to flinch and look away, I don’t. I just keep right on staring back into those dastardly blue skies, for the first time wondering what life would have been like had this boy grown up beside me in Ashen. A slight smile tingles on my lips as his head lists to the side, and messy, dark hair slides from his eyes.
Perhaps we did grow up together, but I just didn’t know it.
“Come on, recruit, it’s time to meet your new friend.” He smiles back, but not before a hint of actual shyness flashes across his cheeks.
My own face tingles at the sight and my eyes dart to the ground, leaving him with nothing but a shaky nod. Aras breaks away, continuing down the trail, while I’m left to follow behind and silently curse my awkward tendencies. Ones that were never a problem when all I did was fuss with Darcy and bounce around after Papa. I stifle a groan and settle for a swift rake of a sweaty palm across my face. Why didn’t Sara tell me that I have a propensity for acting foolish at the most inopportune times?
Just when I’m good and deep into my self-loathing, a sharp yell startles my senses, causing my heart to all but jump through my skin. Out of instinct, I reach out to grab hold of Aras, but drop my hand as soon as I realize that the horrible sound comes from him. It’s the same savage hoot that I heard in the woods on that fateful day when we met. A million questions pounce to my lips, but before they can so much as part, another hoot sounds just as loud, effectively piercing my ears. They hum with the anticipation of another assault, but none comes. Instead, a dark figure steps out on the path before us.
Look to the Stars (The Orien Trilogy Book 1) Page 16
