No.
Now I am just a frightened, soured girl who longs for the soft touch of her mother, and I’ve never despised myself more. A week ago, she was a person who didn’t exist. A haunting image that followed me along in each and every reflection, but at least then I understood I couldn’t touch her. See her. Love her. She was nothing but a star within the skies, and for eighteen long years, I’d come accustomed to her living there. But now, it’s different, for not only is she real, but she also reaches for my heart. And I’m deathly afraid of what will happen if I let her take it.
My fingers ache as I squeeze the worn leather beneath their tips, the flesh under my nails becoming white with pressure. A slow, burning flame begins to build within my chest. Without a doubt, I know it’s magic brewing. Testing its master with a teasing flare. I don’t know what makes me angrier. The fact Aras has carried my mother’s journal around with him this entire time, not daring to even hint of its existence, or that he waited to give it to me when he knew he wouldn’t be around.
When he wouldn’t be there to comfort.
A slow tingle forms along my fingertips, and my eyes dart down to the journal clutched within my palms. A quiet smoke begins to curl from my fingers, nearly innocent, but not enough. Startled, I reach for my pack, shoving the hurtful book within its confines and locking it away for safekeeping.
And then, without another thought, I’m in the water, for once not afraid it will try to take me whole. For how can it, when there’s nothing left to take? Breaking to the surface, I let out a strangled breath, trying to keep pace with the waters that threaten to pull me away. Reeve treads water beside me, a look of unease across his normally confident face.
“I take it you got too hot, then.”
I eye him like a rabid fox, green eyes gleaming across the cool waters. Then, without a word, I’m dunked back under the rapids, pushing with my legs, arms, and entire being toward the falls as they crash into a wonderfully dangerous heap. The roar gets louder as I approach, making my heart race in a wild frenzy. It’s as close to death as my very first meeting with The Lost, and for some terrible, scary reason, I’m not the least bit frightened at all.
Hesitantly, I close my eyes.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three—a heavy hand pounds through the waters above, yanking my snarled hair above the racing waters. I sputter, clean air gasping in my lungs. My eyes tilt to the blue sky above, a feathery cloud consuming my vision in the clearest of pictures.
A father. A child within his lap.
All at once, shame floods my cowardly heart, and I beg the skies to forgive me. I only wanted to feel something other than hurt, but I let that pursuit take my hope.
I’m sorry, Papa.
“What in the star’s name were you thinking?” Reeve snarls, pulling me by my tunic’s collar and holding me tight to his face. His normally cruel eyes have taken on a frantic tint, laced with both fear and worry. A crazed giggle bubbles in my throat, causing a stinging pain as the last remaining remnants of water force their way out of my chest. Perhaps he thinks Aras would kill him if he let me drown within his paradise.
“I mean it!” he yells, tugging me backward and under the falls as fresh water crashes upon my pale cheeks. My eyes jump as I take in our new surroundings, surprised to find a secret cove of rocks hidden behind the falls. Yanking me onto the cold ledge, he pulls himself out of the water, his angry eyes not more than an inch from my own.
“Tell me!” he says, and this time, I flinch as his words bounce off the rocks that surround us.
Somehow, my shaky hands find his shoulders, and I push him back, begging for space that I know he’s not yet willing to give. I was right, he isn’t. Batting my hands away, he squares up before me, fair chest tense and rigid. Assured that he’s not going to let this go, I sigh heavily, causing another painful burn to form within my chest.
“I was just upset,” I whisper, hoping he can hear me over the sound of the water pounding on the rocks. “I know it was silly. I wasn’t trying to hurt myself, honest. I just—I just let it get away with me is all. I would have been fine, really.”
“You didn’t look fine,” he growls, finally breaking the agonizing trance he holds on my eyes. “You looked weak, and as someone from Orien, you should know better than that. You should know what true pain is, and you should never let it take over. Ever.”
I nod, refusing to look him in the eye. For once, I understand what he says. He’s right that no amount of pain should make me feel as though I’m no longer in control, but he’s wrong in why he says it. He thinks he just witnessed me give up. That I was ready to give my life away to the consuming waters, but I wasn’t. Not even close. I just needed to feel something. Anything. For it’s the nothingness that’s the true danger.
It hungers for my spirit.
Silence takes over our hovering cavern, and I feel myself relax as the water soothes me, sadly content to let this boy continue to believe that he’s just witnessed my undoing. I’m about to stand and dive back out into the waters when he grabs my shoulder, pinning me to the wet rocks beneath my feet.
“Was it the journal?” he asks, a look of acknowledgement on his face, as if he’s just discovered a secret. My eyes crinkle at his words, but they don’t surprise me in the least. I’m not a fool to believe he didn’t see me reading along the bank, and I’m also not above acknowledging that his sharp eyes may have seen Aras with it. He believes it belongs to Aras, just as I unknowingly did, and now he thinks it is our friend who has carved this gash within my heart.
A true lover’s quarrel… and I’m left broken with a journal whose secrets reach new depths.
“Yes,” I answer, biting my tongue at the new round of weakness it brings and begging myself not to remember the real reason why I was upset to begin with.
He sighs, squeezing my shoulder in a reassurance that only sets me on edge. “She’ll be the death of him, that girl,” he says before diving into the wall of water and leaving me alone.
For a moment, I’m frozen. Nothing moves but the steady pulse of water at my feet, while his words play over in my mind. It’s not the thought that he could be talking about my mother that scares me.
It’s the understanding that he’s not.
Twenty-Eight
Water sloshes in my soaked boots with each messy step, and I curse myself for not thinking to take them off before I took my dive of madness. Up ahead, Reeve’s silent feet tear up the hill like a skilled assassin, and I wonder when it was in my life I became the lumbering fool. Who are these boys, why are they so quiet, and why must they always put me to shame? At least in Ashen, I was on somewhat level ground, though now I’m beginning to understand my point of view may have been a little more than skewed.
Ahead of us, a sound breaks through the trees, and Reeve’s careful feet come to a stop. His shoulders tense and he looks back, one finger pressed to his lips. I nod, freezing in place, while Reeve tiptoes up the hill, eyes roaming every inch of the darkening woods before us. Slowly, he disappears behind a tree, and then another, and I’m left with nothing to do but squat down against a trunk and carefully rest my damp back. Strands of wet hair snag and pull along the bark, reminding me of the tangled mess it’ll be once it fully dries. Darcy would pop me with a brush if she saw me like this, and I can’t even pretend I don’t deserve it.
At this point, however, I’m not sure why I should care.
Reeve’s sticky words have oozed their way through my mind since the very second he unknowingly spewed yet another secret into the air. One that has nothing to do with me this time, but everything to do with Aras. Aras, the sneaky guard from Orien who apparently has more than a few allies hiding in these woods, and from the sound of it, female ones, too. Complete with smooth, olive skin and tamed hair no doubt. I’m beginning to wonder if the fool is even meeting with someone who believes he can conquer magic, unless that he is actually a she who can conjure up a whole new kind of magic on her own.<
br />
My fingertips tingle with a spark of heat, and I curl them to my palms in an attempt to hold the pressure. Mustn’t burn down the woods, dear Brave, at least not yet.
My head pops up at the sound of Reeve’s careful approach as he comes to a stop before me, just out of reach. “It was nothing.” He shrugs, but by the tone of his voice, I can tell he’s not quite willing to believe it himself.
I rise to shaky feet, motioning ahead for him to lead the way. He turns without another word, and just like that, we’re back to our silent walk that seems to drone on forever. When we finally top the hill and start to level out on even ground, a dark blur teases my eyes through the trees, and my body tingles with the eerie sensation that I’m being watched. Slowing my steps, but not enough for Reeve to take notice, I carefully scan the trees before me, tall and curving in their monstrous ways. It only takes a moment to find the twitching tail, a curling black line that still stands out against the darkest of dark. His head pokes forward, a look of concern in his knowing eyes.
“I knew you were real,” I whisper as the panther darts through the trees and walks along my side.
His tail pushes back and forth with each step, and I can feel his nerves as if they were my very own. Hesitantly, I reach out to still the curling black tail within my palm, half afraid that he’ll reach back and claw me to bits. To my surprise, he stops, plopping down at my wet boots and looking up at me as if he already knows what I have to say.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. And I truly am. I stayed here when he clearly warned me to flee, and now I’ve found myself in a mess that may very well lead to my end. I should have listened to my heart. I should have listened to him.
His blue eyes blink in silent acknowledgement before he turns and slinks off into the trees, nothing but a spirit in the dark. And I turn my back, hurrying to catch Reeve’s lead.
ↄ
We arrive at camp to find it just as empty as when we left, and I couldn’t be more pleased. I know Reeve will sell my soul to Aras as soon as he arrives, but I’m at least thankful to have a few moments to myself before the inevitable fussing begins. Besides, I have more than a few things to say to Aras, and I need to rehearse my words before they tumble out in an ugly, jumbled mess.
As I settle in by the dwindling fire, I’m only vaguely aware of Reeve’s prods for me to change into dry clothes. I still wear my green tunic, which I’m pleased to find maintains its brilliant edge, though it’s been dunked through despair more than once. To take it off now would be like an insult to Crisp and all things Ashen. I won’t do it, even if it makes me miserable and cold. When his words continue to meet deaf ears, he gives up, mumbling something about him needing a break and me needing an attitude adjustment. At this, I nod, because I couldn’t agree more.
It’s almost dusk by the time Aras strolls into camp, and my mostly dry self has settled down along my favorite hollow log, content to stare out into the woods while I debate my anxious words. I feel his careful gaze along my back, probably checking for the angry steam that should be rising from my being, but I refuse to look his way, mysteriously at ease with Reeve and the stories that are about to unfold. I hear Aras ask Reeve if I’m all right and laugh under a strained breath.
I’m quite positive Reeve will fill him in.
It doesn’t take long before the two settle into a low discussion, although I don’t know why they feel the need to hide their words from me. I’m the one who inspired them after all. The fact that Aras still hovers back like a wounded puppy tells me he already knew he was handing me a carefully timed package when he left, complete with a side of mental breakdown.
I can’t help but wonder if he laughed about it with his secret friend while he was gone. I’d like to say I could laugh about it, too, but I’ve dealt with too many lies for one day. In fact, I’m so deep in hurt that I don’t even notice his careful steps as he makes his way to my perch, and it’s not until he speaks that the fog dissipates, and he’s left standing in its place.
“I’d ask you to let me sit, but I’m afraid you may make good on your promise to swipe me with that dagger.”
His words are soft, a soothing balm to my blistering skin, and already I feel the fire within me flicker and fight for life. I look up to see his face, the flamed torches bouncing off the prickled patches of hair that have seemed to sprout up over the day, giving him an older, yet appallingly wiser appearance. His warming eyes settle onto mine. He looks awfully sorry, and that’s good, because he awfully should be.
“I take it from the unsinged hairs left clinging to your chin that your search for magic didn’t go quite as well as you had planned,” I say, darting my eyes back to the comforting trees.
In one quick swoop, he startles me. One minute, he stands before me in a worried mess, and the next, he slides along beside me on the log, his strong arms encompassing my weary frame and pulling me to his chest. My face is lodged against his throat, and my lashes brush along warmed skin as the rumble of his soft voice finds its way to my ear.
“She’s always called you Little Bird. Do you know how many times I’ve caught myself wanting to do the same?”
His words send a hiccup through my chest, and I reach my arms around him, latching onto his shoulders and pulling him into an even tighter embrace. For a moment, all is still, except for our heavy lungs as they breathe together in silent harmony, and the racing, cluttered thoughts that hover above our heads like a weeping cloud, ready to let loose.
“I’m sorry, Bravest. Truly, I am.” His words whisper along my neck, puffing up wild snarls of hair, and I shiver, pulling him tighter still.
“For being a liar or for being a coward?” I mumble into his chest.
At my words, he pulls back, his perfectly straight nose brushing my practically crooked one. “For both. I should have given you the journal long ago, but I thought you needed time. And when you finally read it, I thought you needed space. Clearly, I was wrong on both fronts, but it doesn’t mean that I didn’t have your best interests in mind. You must believe me when I said I wouldn’t hurt you. Never did I—”
His words come to an abrupt halt as I place a tentative finger along his lips. “You were right. I did need time, but I also needed your support. Instead, you left me with Reeve,” I huff, “and now he believes to have witnessed the saddest love story of his life.”
Aras’ brows rise in confusion, and his quick hand reaches out to snatch my own from his lips. “Love story?” he questions, sneaking a peek over his shoulder in Reeve’s direction.
For the first time since our reunion, I feel a sense of unease. I thought Aras’ affection was all a part of the act.
“Yes,” I drawl. “Isn’t that what he spoke to you about when you first arrived?”
“No, he just said that you were upset. Very upset, to be specific. He didn’t say that he knew why.”
My heart pounds as beads of sweat begin to build along my brow, and suddenly, I’ve forgotten all about a mother’s secret words or the girl who will bring my friend to his death. None of it matters now, not when I understand that our lives are in a greater danger. Not when Reeve is playing a careful game of his own. There’s no reason for him not to call Aras out on the journal, unless he knows it really wasn’t his to begin with.
“We’re not safe here,” I whisper, pulling Aras’ collar until his ear touches my lips. The panther’s warning now screams through my veins. “We have to leave.”
Aras’ arms tense around my own, and slowly, he pushes me back to meet my gaze. “We leave tonight,” he promises.
And for not the first time, I hope we’re not too late.
Twenty-Nine
Evening feels even darker than usual, the torched flames and light of the fire casting rich shadows of fear as they dance along the surrounding trunks. We haven’t told Reeve that we plan to leave, and I am perfectly content to keep it that way. For now, Aras plans for us to sneak off in the morning’s dawning light. Although at first I resisted his plan to stay throu
gh the night, it does make sense that it’s the least likely approach Reeve would expect us to take. According to Aras, he’ll be up half the night waiting for us to make our move, but when we don’t, he may give way to sleep. It’s our only bet, and unfortunately for us, it’s not a very good one.
Reeve breaks our heated silence, stretching to his feet with an exaggerated groan. “I think I’ve had enough for one day,” he says, pinning his arms behind his neck and watching me with interest. “I trust you’ll sleep well, Brave.”
I smirk at his careful words. “I always do.”
He pulls his lips back in a tight smile, and once again, we’re the cat chasing the mouse. He moves to clap Aras on the shoulder before turning to his shack. “We’ll talk more in the morning, Aras,” he says, disappearing behind his locked door.
As soon as he leaves, I can feel the release of tension as if it’s been cut with a knife, and my shoulders sink into my weary chest, still not settled with our plan to wait until dawn. Aras must sense my displeasure because he rises to his feet, a beckoning hand within reach.
“Come on,” he says, loud enough for Reeve’s benefit. “Let’s get some rest.”
I reach out and grip his hand as if it’s the only thing that can keep me in this camp for a second more, and when he returns my squeeze with just as much force, I know that it is. Rising to my feet, we drop hands and make our way to our little tent, the flaps still folded down in a comforting cocoon. Once safely tucked away inside, we check and recheck our belongings to make sure we have everything we need, including some extra bread and dried meat that Aras squirreled away within the folds of his tunic. According to Aras, we’re within a day and a half’s reach of Orien’s border, and if we’re fast, maybe a day. It’s the maybe that scares me the most. Although Aras hasn’t been subject to The Lost’s prying eyes in the past, he will be as soon as he leaves this camp on anything other than good terms.
Look to the Stars (The Orien Trilogy Book 1) Page 20
