The Wilds (Reign and Ruin 1)

by Jules Hedger

  The awkwardness in question was the little pow wow we made, sat together around a dry fire pit a few miles off of where we met Cassandra. She had pushed the body of the scout into the bushes and made a passing comment that ants were likely to do away with the evidence quicker than burning. Which made me feel a bit sick.

  No one said a word as we trekked to her outpost. I was sure Lucan and Cassandra had plenty to talk about – there were more than a few significant looks – but they refused to explain anything and placed me smack in the middle of the line. This meant that I had to keep up the pace. Luckily, four days of walking and climbing and occasionally running for my life resulted in me feeling a lot fitter. But hiking in the forest still led to a lot of wet patches and itchy skin. The air was packed with moisture and the warmth made it hard to breathe after a few minutes. The water in my pack ran out after an hour and by the time the sun was highest in the sky, I was gasping.

  I watched Cassandra's back ahead of me as she moved gracefully and lithely through the trees like a tigress. She knew her way around the forest - it was practically her Main Street - and walked forwards with a confidence to match. It still irked me that Lucan refused to be open about his other plan, but the fact that this woman was in on it too annoyed me even further. They were all part of something bigger than I knew and I was stuck on the outside. I wasn't part of their secret club, the Riders, which was the stupidest name of a resistance I had ever heard. Or maybe I was just bitter.

  And now as we sat in awkward silence, I sensed Cassandra watching me. One quick glance told me she wasn't smiling and the look of reverence she had displayed before with the dreamcatcher had long taken flight. She was back to her hard self.

  "So, how did you and Lucan team up?" she asked, leaning back on a log and letting her long, brown hair fall down from its twist. It shook out as smoothly as spun silk and I felt my stomach clench in envy. She was so unlike me.

  "He was in the Wilds when we met," I started to say.

  "Emerged like a stallion out of the dust, did he?" Cassandra asked with a smirk.

  "She saved my life," Lucan interjected loudly. He was binding his hand in strips of cotton. "No doubt you heard Cirrus had tied me up on that pole. I was close to dying."

  Cassandra looked steadily back at Lucan, but the smile didn't fade.

  "Yeah, I heard you messed things up with that. Not the best timing, I hope you know. You left us high and dry." She sighed and cocked her head to the side. "We had no word for days. It all went dark."

  "Sorry, but now might be a good time to catch me up," I interrupted. They both stopped talking quickly. Lucan shifted uncomfortably on his seat and Cassandra started to braid her hair back. I groaned in frustration. "I'm going through this blind!"

  "How about a quick recap?" Cassandra said. I glared at her.

  "Fine." I braced my feet against the ground and faced them both. "Tonight will be the end of the fifth day, after which I will have only one more day to find Cirrus and steal his symbol. If I don't and he gets my necklace, he gets the throne – and me, thank you very much. If I do get it by some act of holy mercy, I will be the queen of some other dimension I didn't even know existed. And if we both fail the symbols burn through our skin and eat our souls." It sounded crazy coming from my angry mouth, but they were both looking at me as if I were explaining a simple math equation. "And the only support I've come up with is you guys!"

  Cassandra chuckled and my face twisted up in irritation. "Don't you dare laugh. I half expected to wake up halfway through this ridiculous nightmare, but here I am."

  "I thought you didn't dream," Lucan asked softly. Cassandra shot him a confused look and we all waited. I looked from one to another in expectation, but Lucan was now studiously inspecting the leaves on the ground.

  "We can't tell you much, as I'm sure Lucan already explained." Cassandra frowned in his direction. "That is, if he was doing his job right. But the Riders have been aware of you for years."

  "You mean the secret rebel forces gathering speed to sweep me onto the throne?"

  Cassandra was not amused.

  "A special group of people in Palet who don't believe this country can flourish under the rule of Cirrus. We've been mounting an attack for ages now, waiting for you." She paused. "So yes, we're on your side."

  "You're hoping I win, you mean?" I asked. She grimaced and shook her head.

  "Honestly, all we care about is if Cirrus loses. And if you're the way to kick him headfirst off the throne, then we're behind you. But if you lose –" Lucan's shoulder twitched but Cassandra ignored him, "we have a contingent plan. And Cirrus knows enough to be aware we're out there. But not how many and not how close. And definitely not what we're up to. If Cirrus takes you as his partner, we cannot have him privy to that secret."

  "So you are the rebellion," I clarified, the words coming out a little more sarcastically than I intended.

  "We're fighting for a free country and the end of tyranny," Cassandra said, her voice flaring up with passion. She reached out and grabbed my hand. "You are the key. And we're going to help you get to wherever you need to be as quickly as you need to get there," Cassandra said. I started to stand up but she gripped my hand tighter. "We move best undercover and in darkness. So we'll have to wait for tonight."

  As I lowered myself down back to the log, I could see Lucan was still looking anywhere but my face. I needed to get him alone. We needed to talk. And we had at least five hours until the sun set. Cassandra let go of my hand and moved off into her tent.

  "Keep an eye out, Lucan," she said over her shoulder. It sounded suspiciously like ‘Make sure she doesn't do anything stupid, Lucan.' But maybe I misheard.

  If I expected him to make a running jump for my arms the moment she moved out of sight, I was sorely wrong. But I definitely expected something. The last day or so had seen him take the time to defend my honor, comfort my sadness and show genuine tenderness. And then yes, that turned quickly to sudden animal lust. But it felt for a moment that I was breaking through something and seeing a real person instead of a slab of angry concrete. Now he was back to the man I found in the desert. And if I was only going to live for another day or so, I didn't want to see him turn back to stone.

  "So," I said, jerking my head towards the dark opening of Cassandra's tent. "That explains . . . a lot." He stared straight ahead. "Does Cirrus know his brother's thrown his lot in with the Rebel Alliance?"

  "No. Painter, I don't know." He stretched his neck and straightened his back to stand up, but as he rose I jumped to my feet and stepped in front of him. I planted myself firmly in the dirt and waited. He shut his eyes, as if he knew it was coming, and lowered himself back down again. He regarded me with tired expectation.

  "What, Maggie?" he sighed.

  "Marius knew, too. And one of your friends sent someone into Lucky Creek." He stayed silent. "They told me then, I remember it now. The Riders are coming." I thought of the coal man, his warnings and the secret whisperings in Marius's lighthouse. "The entire time I was being followed."

  "We were with you every step of the way," Lucan murmured. I looked at him in disbelief.

  "So now that it's out in the open, why do I suddenly feel like you've let us all go?" I suddenly spat. "I felt like you and I were a team. But now it's you and her and a surprise band of brothers! I'm back to being baggage." I went down on my knees and forced him to look into my eyes. "Does that mean you're back to being a jack-ass?" A slight smile flickered across his face.

  "Sweetheart, I will always be a jack-ass. I hope I didn't give you an impression otherwise."

  "Well, yeah you did." I sat back on my ankles and shrugged. "I can't figure you out, Lucan."

  "Maggie, you are the Painter's niece." He leaned forward and put his good hand on my necklace. His hand was so large his fingers spread over my collar bone. Under his touch, my skin burned hotter than the gold beneath and I felt my heart twist. If he noticed he made no sign. "Seeing Cassandra has reminded me of that."

>   His eyes were conflicted, but his answer was clear enough. It didn't stop me from wanting to close the gap between us and claim his lips with mine again. My fingers could so easily run through his thick, uneven brown hair and down his shoulders. And I could feel he wanted to meet me in the middle because as the air between us grew thick he leaned back suddenly and released a shaky breath.

  "Maggie, I –" He paused before continuing. "I took advantage of you. Distress can make anyone emotional. Don't think you wouldn't be feeling the same if it was someone else in my place."

  My fist lashed out and hit him soundly on the arm. It couldn't have hurt but that didn't stop the small surge of anger from momentarily darkening his eyes. I leaned forward and hit him again, just because I knew it would piss him off, and this time he caught my wrist mid-strike. I tried to yank it back, but he held it fast.

  "Lucan, I just need you to stop pussy-footing around, because if I don't get to know what the plan is beyond tomorrow, I at least want to understand what's happening right now." The tension was palpable and I knew this was either going to end the conversation or send me crawling up his chiseled chest. "I am feeling everything, and not just for you. This symbol, this walk . . . and the connection with your brother; I don't even know what it means anymore." Lucan watched me sadly. "So please . . . help me put some of the pieces together. I know you're brave. So stop pretending to be a fucking coward."

  I pulled my wrist sharply and he jerked it back, pitching me forward. He leaned down to meet me, his eyes turning from blue to stormy gray, and the sweet smell of the sweat from his neck mingled with the damp dirt. It was instantaneous, the sudden lightening that burned away any coherent words or stuttering of excuses into something heavy and thick as syrup, so that all we could think about – all I could think about – was how gently I could touch my lips to his. His eyes closed as my mouth brushed his skin, and I sighed into him, luxuriating in the softness. This kiss had a different feeling, one that knew it wasn't out to prove anything. But just being.

  It was only a brief moment before Lucan gasped and pulled back, bringing his head away sharply. And just as quickly as it had disappeared, the anger and indignation returned. I glared up at his apologetic face. My entire body felt strained, as if it could suddenly combust, and the harder I pushed against him the closer I was to splitting . . .

  "My duty is to make sure that you get your throne and finish the Reign Walk. Or in the worst case scenario, that Cirrus doesn't sit long at the top. If there is anything beyond that that you can't figure out, than I haven't done my job right." He let go of my wrist and leaned back on the log. "You're the Daughter of Palet. I'm just a solider."

  "Fuck you, Lucan," I whispered, getting up and grabbing my jacket. He might have looked hurt, but I really didn't care. I walked away from the fire pit, past the shelter – in which I was sure Cassandra was laughing her gorgeous head off – and into the trees. There was more air in the clearing but I needed some space. Some real space.

  I pushed through the leaves and the ferns, rubbing my wrist angrily, until flopping myself down on a wet log. Shit, why did this suck so much? I kicked the ground and snarled in frustration. The necklace throbbed back in response. My fingers clenched around the chain and I had to dig my nails into my skin to keep from yanking it off of my neck. A small sob escaped from my throat and tears momentarily blurred my vision.

  God, this felt so unfair. All I wanted was an answer to something. To feel like I was a bigger part of anything, instead of just a lost girl in the woods.

  The leaves rustled and I wiped my face quickly, half expecting Lucan to appear, but my heart dropped sharply when Cassandra stepped soundlessly from the brush. I went back to kicking the dirt and tried not to think about how she must have heard everything.

  "What do you want?" I asked.

  "To make sure you aren't off putting yourself in danger," she replied smoothly. She stayed on her feet but leaned against a tree, looking down at me thoughtfully.

  "Well, I'm fine. And I'll come back in a bit; I just need a few minutes to myself." Cassandra nodded.

  "It really won't help to take your anger out on Lucan, you know that? He's only doing his job," she said.

  Oh, hell, I wanted to punch her. Was she really giving me a lecture about Lucan? Have things grown that petty now? Turning my body so I was facing her, I smiled bitterly and held my hands open in submission.

  "I'm genuinely sorry if I stepped on your turf. I didn't know he was yours." Cassandra started to laugh and I stared at her confusingly. She sucked her lower lip and seemed to consider the best words to respond.

  "Maggie, Lucan is nobody's." She smiled and sighed. "He has never been mine, and will never be yours, because he will never allow himself to belong to a woman whose strength exceeds his own."

  "What is that supposed to mean?" I snapped.

  "It means Lucan is tied heart and soul to his independence. He hates losing control, even for a second. His job is to protect." She looked at me sideways. "You've probably been quite a challenge."

  "Have you ever . . . " I started. Cassandra nodded immediately and I hated her all over again.

  "But I already told you that he doesn't like a fight." She smiled and flexed her arms over her head. "Or at least, he always likes to win. You and I would never be able to let him."

  "No offense, Cassandra, but you don't know anything about me."

  "Maggie, time ticks differently in your world and ours. You have already lived years and years more than both Lucan and I. And yet you are young. You have the blood right to our throne, and yet you are a stranger to Palet. You pull the strings of men crossing deserts and dreams for your favor, and yet you cannot control even your own heart." She pushed herself from the tree and considered me seriously. "You are a woman with a disc of gold between your breasts. And even with your supreme ignorance and vulnerabilities, it's still not clear to any one of us if you really need our help. No, I cannot pretend to understand what you are. And neither can Lucan. He is finding himself redundant. And admit it: you don't want him around for protection anymore, either."

  My silence must have been enough of an answer for her, because she started to move back between the trees. But she paused and turned quickly around into a deep bow. I was taken aback as her face rose up to meet mine with admiration. "There is so much fire in you, Maggie. Anyone can see how hot you glow. It's in your eyes and your tongue. And any man should want to be consumed, to burn away and follow you as ash in the wind. And if he doesn't, he's not worthy of the Daughter of Palet."

  At some point, she blended into the leaves and trees so well that I wasn't sure if she was still there or had moved away out of sight. It left me feeling creeped out and slightly empty. Camaraderie over Lucan was never something I thought we would share. But maybe she was right.

  Was Lucan afraid of me? Was he angry because I wasn't helpless? Hell, I had shot a man for him. I asked questions where perhaps I shouldn't. I had definitely given as good as he gave in other matters, but was it my fault that all I wanted to do when we kissed was climb on top? Push back as hard as he? His strength was a turn-on and it filled me with a confidence I hadn't felt since . . . well, ever.

  I groaned and put my face in my hands. The only time I felt like I was made of fire was when we kissed. When he touched me I glowed. But in the end, I had only known him for a few days. And we'd killed together, run together and almost fucked together. But does that make this anything to take home? Or was I just addicted to the strength he gave? In actuality, wasn't I just a woman who dropped from the sky?

  And wasn't Cirrus just a man who gave me a necklace?

  It was another fifteen minutes before I went back to camp. I had left to sort things out in my own head and even though she only wanted to help, Cassandra had just made it worse. Still, she had stayed me with me the entire time. I could hear her move behind me back through the leaves. She could have been silent but I think she deliberately made noise so I would know I was not alone. I still d
idn't like her much, but I was thankful because when I emerged back at the camp Lucan wasn't there. And I felt suddenly incredibly lonely.

  ***

  Drip.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  Marty sat staring at the state of his feet. They were filthy. And wet. His shoes must have slipped off when he was thrown down the stairs. He sighed and flexed his toes against the concrete floor. There must be a leak somewhere, ground water or a hole in the pipes. Whatever it was, it had been dripping mysteriously in the corner for hours and was really getting on his nerves.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  Marty looked at the sound darkly. Hell, everywhere was dark in this cold basement. And if he could move from these chains he might find some window or door or even a blessed crack in the wall to try and let in some natural light. No matter what people say, one does not get accustomed to the dark. Not in this basement, with Cirrus's nightmares stalking around the grounds and the tinny smell of blood lingering in the damp air.

  One of Cirrus's men had left Marty with a desk lamp and a deck of cards. Generous, really, but what he really needed was a hit. Of anything, just to make him forget.

  Fuck, forget it all. Forget he was stuck down here and Maggie was out there. Forget that he always promised her uncle he would protect her. Most of all, forget that it was his fault she was here in the first place. Fuck the resistance to hell, nothing could be worth what Cirrus wanted from her. And I will never help him with that, he thought, slapping down a jack of hearts. Never.

  The creak of the basement door sounded from above and a shaft of light appeared. Marty craned his neck but recoiled with a gasp as the harsh overhead lights were switched on. They flashed across his vision like a whip, bringing bruised spots to his eyes, and it took him a few moments to adjust. But he tried to keep his mind focused, even as he blinked against the glare, because the footsteps coming down were too quick to mean good news.