by Lindsey Duga
His cheek was next to my ear, and his hand on my arm seemed bigger than I had imagined it would be. Not that I had done much imagining.
“Getting close?”
Instead of nodding, because the action would make my head ache, I said, “Yes.”
“Why didn’t you feel this bad when the griffin came up on us yesterday? Is it because of my Sense?” There was a twinge of anger in his voice—he really wasn’t going to let that go.
“Part of it. But the nest of a monster is the source of the Darkness that gathered there to create it. It’s stronger and heavier than the beast itself. It’s the origin of the curse that it was born from.” My brows pulled together in confusion as I regarded him. “Why don’t you know? Every Royal knows that.”
Zach shrugged as he pulled a branch away for me, his other hand still grasping my arm. “I didn’t spend my time in a classroom, learning like everyone else. Every waking second I was in battle training. You think I came out of the womb swinging a sword? I practiced, Ivy.”
“Never said you didn’t.” I stepped over a fallen branch to avoid the crunch of breaking wood.
Zach smiled. “Don’t think I’m a natural, then?”
“Never said that, either.”
“Then what do you think?”
“I think you have to be a born natural and have practiced day in and day out to be able to defeat my magic.”
“You think you’re that powerful, do you?”
“You would be, too, if you—”
Zach squeezed my arm and came to a halt, forcing me to stop. “Your face just got about five times paler. We’re almost there.”
He was right. It felt awful, like I needed to cough up whatever dark shadow had passed over my lungs.
Brom unhooked his crossbow from his back, and I followed his example, tugging on my wrist shield before drawing my sword.
Zach drew his sword, scanning the forest canopy. “What are you feeling? Where is it?”
I took a soft but labored breath and raised my arm to the north. “That way… Higher… More shadows.”
“About how long would you say we have before it knows we’re here?”
“I’m sure it already knows we’re close.” I gestured to Zach and then to myself. “It can smell our Royal blood. Neither of us has an advantage.”
Zach smirked. “Good. I like a level playing field.” He glanced back at Brom. “How good are you at climbing trees?”
Brom squared his shoulders. “I can manage.”
I raised an eyebrow at my page, but he just nodded. There weren’t a lot of trees on the castle grounds to practice climbing, but if Brom said he could do it, I trusted him.
“Move from tree to tree, shooting arrows. I want to see if we can get some clue to where the griffin could be,” Zach said, frowning up at the dense canopy. The foliage was so thick only pricks of sunshine sparkled like tiny stars. “Ivy and I will keep moving on the ground, maybe draw it out somehow. We sure as hell won’t be able to attack it in its nest.”
Without another word, already accepting Zach’s leadership, Brom started up the nearest tree. I watched wearily until he was halfway up before I turned to Zach. Just as he started to move northward, I grabbed his arm.
“Zach, we should Ki—”
“I said no. I’ve got a plan.”
I struggled not to raise my voice. To keep it calm, negotiable. “You’re taking unnecessary risks. We could kill this griffin easily, and you know it. This is foolishness.”
Obviously appealing to his logical side hadn’t worked. Maybe I needed to try a different tactic. Maybe appeal to a different side of him. A side where thoughts had nothing to do with it because it was all about contact.
I slid my hand up his arm, onto his shoulder, and leaned in to him.
He stiffened under my touch.
“I don’t want to fail before we destroy the egg. There’re too many people depending on this mission. On us.” At the last word, I pulled closer, my lips brushing his ear. If he turned his head even slightly our mouths would meet.
He jerked away, but not before I felt a shiver run through him.
Son of a witch.
“Zach, please. I need you to stay with me. I’m too—” The word weak caught in my throat. It was something I wasn’t used to admitting.
“Just stay back.” His voice was low, dangerous, and almost as dark as the creature we were about to face.
Then he disappeared into the dense growth.
I stood there for a moment then hurried after him, my voice louder than it should have been. “Zach—at least let me help. We can—”
Pain ripped through my abdomen, forcing me to stumble and catch myself.
I coughed and sucked in a breath. The scent of the forest was gone, replaced with the smell of death and decay. Above, there was a boom like muffled thunder of a distant storm. It held power and heavy, concentrated energy.
I looked up and there it was. The nest was a thick mass of swirling, smoky darkness. Rotting black branches and vines curled together to form a misshapen ball.
There was a shuffling above. Rustling of dried leaves, snapping of rotting bark, flapping of feathers. At that moment, Brom released an arrow. It sliced through tangles of thick foliage and lodged itself into the nest.
The griffin sprang from the nest in a swirl of inky smoke and copper feathers. Blackened branches fell to the forest floor as the beast dive-bombed, rocketing toward me like a shooting star across the leaf-strewn sky. It seemed bigger today, with glistening black-and-copper wings and fur, glowing red eyes, and a bronze beak open wide, shrieking its awful cry.
I barely had time to drop my sword and raise my shield with both arms before the griffin’s talons dug deep into my shield. Wood splinters, feathers, and leaves swirled in a mini-hurricane around me. My arm was sure to be ripped to shreds if the beak didn’t pierce my neck first. All I could do was defensive maneuvers, ducking and dodging away from the beak and daggerlike talons.
Perhaps if the griffin were more like a lion and less like a squawking bird I’d have more of a chance in close quarters. But there was little I could do with its wings beating on either side and its claws tearing at me. And the smell… Its stench was that of a rotting corpse.
The griffin screeched and gave one final squeeze of its talons, breaking my shield. Wood went everywhere, and I struggled to breathe through the panic and darkness in my lungs. I’d been through dozens of nests before, felt the Sense weigh heavily on me, but this time was different—I was alone with no sign of my partner. I didn’t even have the strength or reflexes to launch a counterattack. I could only throw myself backward, against the trunk of a dead oak.
The griffin let loose another squawk and dove, its beak going straight for my chest, and I had no energy to stop it. At the last possible moment, Zach emerged from the foliage, blocking the griffin’s beak with his sword. Bronze and metal clashed, the sound ringing through the forest.
In his haste to get to me, Zach had slid with one knee on the ground and was now struggling under the griffin at an awkward angle. The monster slashed at Zach with its talons and delivered fresh, deep scratches down his arm. Zach let out a roar as the bird jerked its head back, and knocked the sword out of his grip.
The sword skidded over dead leaves. Recovering, I unsheathed a dagger from my thigh and leaped forward, driving it deep into one of the griffin’s red eyes. It screamed in rage and reared up on its hind legs. Too late, I realized its talons were coming right down on my throat.
Before it could tear into my neck, Zach pushed off the ground in a whirl of leaves and feathers and shoved me back into the tree, hard. The talons…the talons found his chest instead.
Bronze claws tore into Zach’s chest, and I screamed.
“NO!”
I sprang upward and drove the dagger into the breast of the bird, catching Zach as he began to fall back. It wouldn’t kill the griffin, but maybe it would buy me a moment or two.
My arms were alread
y slick with blood pouring from Zach’s wounds, and every inch of me screamed in pain and deep, overwhelming despair. His blood was too warm. Too full of life. This couldn’t be happening. Not another one.
Only this time, it wasn’t because of me. It was for me.
His body slumped against mine, and his head fell back over my arm, hazel eyes growing darker by the second.
“No, no, no,” I whispered as I cradled his face, my hand trembling.
Lips coated in blood, Zach tried to open his mouth but couldn’t do so more than a slit. His eyes focused on mine for only a moment before they fluttered closed.
I couldn’t breathe—couldn’t think. “Zach, Zach, Zach.”
As my body moved on its own, bringing him slowly to my lap, the griffin and its nest burst into orbs of golden light. Like a star had exploded in the forest, illuminating the dark crevices and chasing out the shadows.
I yelled and buried my face into Zach’s shoulder at the sudden brilliance.
When I raised my head, the gold glow from the griffin’s body had descended on Zach’s mangled chest and covered it like a liquid gold salve. It shone with the blinding radiance of the sun. I shielded my eyes against the onslaught of light and struggled to blink against the miniature supernova.
Zach shuddered and rolled to the side, on his hands and knees, breathing hard as the golden orbs drifted up into the trees.
I scrambled forward, pressing my hand on his bare chest.
His chest that was completely healed.
He stared at me, pale and gasping for breath—but alive.
Impossibly alive.
What in the name of the Royal Sisters had just happened?
Chapter
Fifteen
Birth of a Heretic
As the gold light dissolved, revealing the normal shadows of a thick forest, we stared at each other in shock. I brought a hand to his face, felt his breath on my palm and the stubble on his jaw, then let my fingers stroke his neck, noting his strong, pounding pulse.
Alive. He was completely alive. Relieved knowing this one truth, I took a shuddering breath then grabbed his tattered shirt in my fists. “What was that? Has that ever happened to you before?”
My movement made Zach fall back on his elbows, bringing me down with him. “No—it’s never—no!”
Halfway on top of him, a million things ran through my mind. It had been magic—but caused by what? There was no mage. No Kiss. I’d never even thought a spell.
“You’ve never seen it before? Merciful Queen, what did you do?”
Zach’s shocked face suddenly hardened. He took my shoulders and moved me off him. “I saved your life.”
“Yes, but—”
“Don’t I deserve a thank-you?” He stood, brushing dead leaves off his pants.
“Hey!” I leaped to my feet. “I wouldn’t have needed saving if you hadn’t left me, or at the very least, included me in your plan, if you even had one. I’m your partner, you can’t—”
Just then, Brom crashed through the branches and bent over, resting his hands on his knees, gasping. “There—you—are—gold—explosion.”
I grabbed Brom’s shoulder. “That was the griffin.” Then I launched into an explanation.
With every word Brom’s eyes grew wider, but as soon as I was done, Zach nudged both of us forward. “C’mon, plenty of time to discuss this later. Let’s get out of this bloody forest.”
Brom shot me a look, and I merely shook my head. If Zach cared so little about the mysterious gold magic, I’d talk to Bromley about it later.
Escaping the shadows of the forest and feeling the sun and wind on my clammy skin felt good. When we retrieved the horses from Lynel and his comrades, the men immediately began asking questions about the mysterious gold light. Apparently it had been so bright, so powerful, that they’d seen it even at the edge of the woods. Instead of admitting we had no idea what had caused it, I ended up telling them it was a rare form of magic that destroyed the griffin, which wasn’t a lie.
The men all bowed, overjoyed, and kissed my hands in gratitude. Zach just nodded and shook their hands.
Once they were gone, Zach pulled a spare tunic from his bags, reminding me that I should change my bloodied shirt as well. I grabbed a clean one out of my pack and stepped behind Lorena to change. As I shed the ruined tunic, I called to Zach, “Are you really all right? The talons…they went deep.”
“See for yourself.”
Peeking over my horse, I watched Zach lift the shredded shirt above his head, revealing his bare chest and defined abs.
It felt like my whole face went up in flames. Luckily his shirt was covering his face, so he didn’t see how badly I blushed. Beyond his muscled torso, I couldn’t help but notice the remnants of dried blood on his chest that hadn’t come off when the magic—whatever it was—healed him. I remembered him standing, intercepting the talons that had been meant for me…
Forgetting I was half dressed, in only a thin chemise, I crossed to him, clutching the clean tunic to my chest as my other hand traced the dried blood on his bare chest. While I’d had princes save me before, they’d always worn my magic, a protective shell. None had ever sacrificed their life for me.
The very idea of it was overwhelming. There were many scars under the dried blood. Scars that could’ve been so easily prevented by Kisses. Yet he chose to endure the long and painful process of natural healing. Why? For what? His belief in something that didn’t exist?
Zach removed his shirt entirely.
I glanced up at him. He was staring at my bare shoulders, then he dropped his gaze to my hand on his chest, the hand that bore his mark.
Realizing how inappropriate this was, I swallowed and started to withdraw my hand.
He caught my fingers and wrapped them in his hand. “Stop.”
Now, even my ears were hot. “Stop what?”
“Thinking what you’re thinking.”
“You don’t know what I’m thinking.”
“Don’t I? I made my choice, and I don’t regret it.”
My gaze shot upward. “Yes, because by some miracle you’re still alive.”
“Then let us be thankful for the miracle.”
“What you did was stupid and reckless,” I muttered, squeezing the hand that wrapped around my own. “But…thank you. For saving my life.”
Zach shook his head with a sad smile. “Don’t worry, it won’t happen again.”
“What won’t?” I asked. “Saving my life?”
“No.” The muscles in his jaw tightened, and his hand gripped a little tighter. “Putting you in a position where I had to do that in the first place.”
I lowered my gaze to his collarbone, finding yet another scar. It was long—nearly six inches. “And what position was that?”
“You. Alone. I won’t do that again.”
A foreign feeling stretched from my stomach into my limbs. It was like a hundred wind wisps were trapped inside me, fluttering and flying about, riding the currents of my bloodstream.
Still holding my hand to his chest, he traced a darkening bruise on my wrist where my shield had broken. “It’s not that I think you’re weak.You’re the strongest princess I’ve ever met. But I’m not used to anyone suffering the consequences of my decisions. I’ve…always fought alone.”
How ironic that I never had. Except for just a few days ago at the breach in the wall. Still, considering my past, I wasn’t the best person to teach him about partnership.
“Um, I hate to interrupt,” Brom said, having finished attaching his crossbow to his saddlebags, “but shouldn’t we get moving?”
I ripped my fingers out of Zach’s hand and retreated behind Lorena. Before I finished dressing, I threw him a rag. “Wipe off the blood. You don’t want another ruined tunic.”
“Gladly,” Zach said, rubbing at his chest. He pulled a new shirt over his head, then vaulted onto his horse and started Vel off at a steady canter.
Brom hung back with me as we mounted and
urged our horses into a trot.
He glanced at me. “You know…”
“Don’t.”
“I’ve never seen you go that red. And men have been bare-chested in front of you before.”
I grimaced. “He surprised me. That’s all.”
Bromley smiled but didn’t say anything else.
He was right not to push, because those thoughts were dangerous. If I admitted to myself I found Zach attractive and had enjoyed the feel of his arms while in the forest, it was admitting that I felt…Lust.
That kind of distraction was inexcusable for a mission as important as this one. Maybe if we didn’t have a Sable Dragon to destroy, and maybe if Zach wasn’t a Romantica who believed feelings of Lust were only a precursor to Love, then…
I shook my head.
It was possible I might’ve tasted the feeling of Lust when Amias had kissed me that night…but the feeling of losing grip, of succumbing to anything, had terrified me.
I certainly wasn’t going to allow myself to feel anything such as that for Zach.
Amias was always so rough, holding me in a way that felt demanding and consuming, while Zach… I could almost feel him tracing the bruise on my wrist from moments before, and again the one on my cheek left by my mother. It had been tender and warm…two things that were even more dangerous.
…
We rode hard all day in an attempt to make up for lost time. It was also a good excuse to avoid Zach and the tension that still sizzled between us.
At dusk, the terrain had changed from rolling hills to thick trees spaced widely apart over flat land. We dismounted to give our horses rest and kept walking, hoping to reach the outskirts of the next forest before we stopped for the night.
As we entered the wood, with its wide, well-traveled paths and large old trees, I marveled at the fading sun shining through the mangled branches. It reminded me of the gold specks that were the final remnants of the griffin.
Brom and I had discussed ideas of what it could have been, but none seemed plausible.
