“I can try.” Joshua heaved with all his might, and his hands slipped on the cold metal. He fell back with a grunt, palms grazed and bleeding.
“See.” Varyn settled in his hunch, his eyes rolling across to where the lake was still just visible to him. “Twice now, you’ve invaded my dreams. Why are you here?”
“I told you—I don’t know.” Joshua rubbed his scuffed hands down the front of his shirt, blowing on them. They stung so badly, he was almost certain he was awake. “Why are you chained down?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Maybe I can help you?”
“Doubt it.” Varyn almost sounded bitter, but there was no depth to the words.
“Where’s the dragon?” Joshua asked cautiously. “Is it gone?”
“No, it’s close. Resting. They do that before they attack. That way they can go for days.” Varyn’s eyes didn’t leave the lake. There was a longing in his expression, as if he were missing something. Joshua peered into his face. Perhaps it was the nature of the dream but he could discern nothing from his usual empathetic skills. It made the boy feel oddly powerless, even though Varyn was chained down.
“You’re not really here, are you? In La’Kalciar.”
“No.”
“But the chains…” Joshua scrutinised them. “They’re real?”
“Some things you don’t escape, even in dreams.”
“What happened?”
Varyn glanced down at himself and gave that soft grumbling chuckle again. He seemed to have nothing left to lose. “I’m dying.”
Joshua’s heart jumped in alarm. “Dying! How?”
“Was cursed…I committed a crime. This is my punishment.”
“What did you do?”
“Killed a man.”
Joshua lowered himself to the floor slowly, sitting cross-legged. “And the dragon?”
“It’s followed me for years. I kept moving, but now…” Varyn gave a half-hearted tug at his chains. “You say we’re connected. Why? I’ll be dead before summer.”
“You don’t know that.”
Varyn tore his eyes from the lake and peered into Joshua’s face. “Do you?”
“Athea, why are adults so morose?” Joshua growled. “It’s like you thrive off it. Is having a little faith, a little hope, so difficult for you all?”
“Joshua.” It was the first time Varyn used his name. Joshua had presumed he’d forgotten it. “The Isny don’t have room to hope. We can’t.”
“Really?” Joshua asked. “In that case, what are you doing here?” He gestured to the beautiful view of the lake.
Varyn’s obsidian eyes widened a fraction and then he made a sudden, very sharp noise, that sounded like a clap. Joshua realised it was a laugh.
“Hah! Smart boy. Harmatian, are you?”
“How did you know?”
“Frail looking. Fair. Pompous accent. Sound like a friend of mine. Maybe you know him?”
“I doubt that.”
“Hm. Yes.” Once again Varyn’s eyes trailed off down toward the lake. “He lives down there. Isaac, does.”
“Who is he?”
“Magi. Good man. The best man.” Varyn might have sounded sad, but he didn’t betray himself. “You should go,” he eventually said, “All your talk…Sounds like someone needs you more than me.”
Joshua hesitated. As strange and frightening as Varyn was, the Prince didn’t want to step out of the dream yet. He felt an overwhelming sense of companionship with the man. “Will I see you again?”
“You step in and out of my dreams. You tell me.”
Joshua nodded slowly. “Don’t die yet.”
“Can’t promise.” Varyn gave him a wry, ugly smile, which seemed more like a grimace. He appeared to be in tremendous pain. “Go, boy, get gone. Air’s changing—won’t be near as nice in a minute.”
Joshua had noticed it too—the temperature had dropped, and there was a stale smell floating through the trees. Everything began to darken and Joshua got the impression that Varyn was waking up. The Hunter wilted, haggard and shaken, his energy drained.
Joshua watched hopelessly. “I’ll come back!” he promised. “Keep fighting. Please, keep fighting.”
Varyn gave one last rattling chuckle and Joshua felt the world slip away from him.
Joshua’s eyes fluttered open to find Rufus lying beside him, arms folded, fully clothed and ready for the day. He’d been calling Joshua’s name very faintly, gently rousing him.
“Were you dreaming?” Rufus asked and Joshua buried his face further into his pillow, nodding sleepily. In the haze of his fatigue he noticed some dark bruising across the top of Rufus’s head. He reached up to poke it carefully.
“Wha’ happn’d?” he asked in a sleepy mumble.
“Nothing to worry about.” Rufus rested his hand in Joshua’s mop of curls, tenderly brushing them out of the boy’s face.
“Rufus?” Joshua pushed himself up, his mind focusing. A dark, tired energy clung around Rufus, stronger than the day before. Joshua drew in a deep breath. “Rufus, what’s wrong?”
“Joshua,” Rufus said softly, “listen to me. I know that you can sense it—that I’m…not quite right. Your ability as an empath is growing stronger every day, but I need you not to worry.”
“But—”
“You have Korrick’s test today, and all being well, you will begin your training after. You must focus all of your energy on that.”
“But—” Joshua tried again.
“I know you’re frightened.” Rufus frowned. “But it’s not your responsibility to take care of me. I’m your brother…your father. I’ve burdened you with enough.” Rufus leant forward and kissed Joshua on the forehead. “Whatever happens, I need you to be well. You’re capable of so much. Don’t let my failings divert your energy. Not my sins or my negativity.” He gazed down at Joshua with a sad fondness. “I’m so proud of you, Joshua.”
Joshua didn’t like the almost unspoken farewell in that statement. He tried to make light of it. “Even though you don’t like the idea of me training?”
“Yes.”
“And that I went behind your back to do it?”
Rufus smiled. “Even so.” He rolled off the bed and stood, brushing himself down in several sharp strokes. “It’s almost time—you’d better get up.”
Joshua obeyed, though he could have gladly slept another hour. He suspected that, should all go to plan, Korrick wouldn’t stand for any late mornings. Joshua would have to get used to the sunrise—a daunting prospect.
He changed hurriedly, debating whether or not to tell Rufus about his strange dream, and the Hunter named Varyn. Stealing a glance at his brother’s bruised face, Joshua decided to keep it to himself. Rufus’s thoughts were like a physical weight on him, and Joshua didn’t want to add to that. His encounter with Varyn would keep for now—besides, Joshua wasn’t sure he could explain it, even if he wanted to.
As he dressed, Rufus strung his new bow for him. Fae had lent it to Joshua on the understanding that he practise with it every day. It was as small as his previous one, but curved around at either end to give each shot more impact. To begin with, Joshua had struggled with the new weight on the drawback, but he was slowly acclimatising to it.
Dressed and armed, Joshua and Rufus departed the room together, and met Fae in the corridor. Boyd loitered nearby, chewing his thumb. It was a wonder he hadn’t worn it down to a knuckle.
Fae took one look at Joshua’s pinched, nervous expression and took his hand. “You will be fine,” she reassured. “I assume you won’t be wanting breakfast?”
“You assume correctly.” Joshua wasn’t sure he could stomach anything more than a glass of water. Fae moved her hand to his shoulder, and kept it there as they moved on, a silent and confident comfort. Boyd trailed after, looking discontent and worried, though he offered Joshua a wan smile when the boy caught his eye.
They found Korrick out in the training grounds, which were dusted white with dew. The sun hadn�
��t risen yet, but there was a pre-dawn greyness in the sky that lit the mountains. The air was still and tepid, promising to flourish into a hot day.
Korrick acknowledged them wordlessly with a solemn bow of his head and, as they got close enough, turned on his heel and began to lead them away. Joshua felt Fae hesitate for a fraction of a second, and it doubled his nerves. Wherever Korrick was taking them, Fae hadn’t expected it.
“It’s warmer today,” Joshua broke the silence. His nerves were getting the better of him. “And it seems the snow’s melting.”
“Spring is returning,” Rufus agreed faintly, nodding toward where a cluster of snowdrops nodded lazily at them in passing, caught in a stray breeze.
“That's the way it is in the Neve,” Fae kept her eyes ahead. “Shrouded in snow one day, and then lounged in green the next. I was down by the coast a few days ago—you would think it was summer there already.”
They went on, a sudden wind blowing up ahead of them as they moved through a collection of tall, bleak trees, which swayed like the masts of ships. The wood groaned ominously, and Joshua tried not to be troubled by it.
“Korrick, where are we going?” Fae finally lost her patience. “There are no training grounds out here, only…”
She drew off as they stepped out from the trees. The group came to a stand-still. Up in front of them, the ground broke away over a sudden, sheer drop. Korrick went to the edge of the ravine, unmindful of the great height, and drawing out his own bow, he nocked an arrow and shot it. It struck a tree on the other side and Korrick replaced his bow. At his side, a rickety old rope bridge was the only crossing over the divide. Even before Korrick had said anything, Joshua knew what he was going to be asked to do. So did Fae.
“Korrick, have you lost your mind?” She stormed ahead. “Nobody has stepped across that thing in decades. It can’t bear the weight of a man.”
“Some of the planks are rotted through, certainly,” Korrick conceded, “but others are steady, if you are nimble enough. The right footing and you should be able to cross safely.” He turned to Joshua. “Are you willing to face the risk, to fetch me that arrow?”
“This isn’t fair!” Fae said. “What do you hope to learn from such a foolish venture?”
“He is a Prince, as you all seem so keen on reminding me. One day, I presume he means to be King, which means he must command. To do so is to put not only his life at risk, but the lives of others too. Every decision he makes will have its consequences.”
Joshua looked back across to the bridge and edged closer toward it. A bout of dizziness came over him and he stepped back, nauseous with vertigo. He closed his eyes, trying to battle through the sudden charge of emotions that filled him. He was angry at Korrick for putting him in such a position, resentful with himself that he wasn’t capable of simply charging over the bridge without hesitation, and fearful. Fearful of what it could mean if he did.
Furiously, he fought back his tears, scrabbling for courage.
“Will you do it?” Korrick asked.
“Obviously he won’t—this is utterly ludicrous!” Rufus spoke for the first time, his voice raised in anger. His brother’s tone bought something up in Joshua, and he was suddenly faced with a new perspective.
Rufus had sacrificed so much in Joshua’s name—his chances of love, safety, comfort, and even a home, all so Joshua might have a brother and a father to raise him. Korrick was right—one day, Joshua would be called on to make similar decisions. He would have to make sacrifices and choices for his people, and each of these would have consequences.
Joshua understood. The bridge was a metaphor for that, and perhaps then it was best he hadn’t simply run over it. Each step had to be considered carefully, each risk calculated. He could walk away from the ravine and decide to forfeit the training, but that would be disregarding the worth of what Korrick could teach.
For the first time, it dawned on Joshua his skills in battle went far beyond him, and Korrick had chosen this test specifically for that reason. He wanted to see what kind of ruler Joshua would be—one who was wise enough to preserve his life at the cost of something great, or one who took risks to achieve something more. “My conditions are clear. He must pass my test to earn my tutorship.”
“You’re stark raving mad!”
Behind him, the squabbling continued and Joshua saw his chance. He stepped up to the edge of the bridge and looked out over it. It rocked dauntingly but Joshua felt his resolve settle.
He studied the planks of wood, looking for rot or signs of damage. A few were cracked, others weather-beaten and frail, but Korrick was right—if Joshua moved carefully, if he was nimble and smart, he would make it across the bridge. He swallowed, licked his thumb and drew a line across his forehead, offering a prayer to Etheus for luck, then Malak for steady-footedness, and then finally Athea, just in case he did fall and no one was able to recover his body.
“—totally unreasonable request!” Rufus was still saying, so preoccupied with his anger he didn’t see his brother step out onto the bridge.
The rope banisters creaked as Joshua took hold of them, bearing his weight. He swallowed dryly and took another step, and then another.
It was Boyd who noticed first and gave a cry of alarm which was quickly echoed by Rufus.
“Joshua!” Rufus shouted in horror but Joshua didn’t dare look back. Turning would tip his balance and he had to concentrate on his every step, or the bridge would kill him.
“I won’t let you conquer me,” Joshua told the wood fiercely, and knew that both Korrick and Fae heard him.
“Joshua, come back!” Rufus pleaded.
Joshua shook his head. “I have this.” His voice juddered. “Believe in me.”
“But—”
“Please,” Joshua begged, almost losing his nerve. He couldn’t cross the bridge without Rufus’s support, and from his silence, Joshua sensed that Rufus knew that too. The bridge rocked a little, trying to deter his courage, but Joshua simply remained where he was until the ropes grew still again. He continued on his way, the wooden planks creaking disconcertingly as he passed over them.
The tension was tangible in the air, and with it came the tightening of his throat as Joshua lost the pace of his breathing. He’d struggled with his lungs all his life, in particular during times of stress and fear. He’d come to learn a method to combat this.
“One step is more than another two back,” he sang, falling back on the old marching rhyme of his childhood. Howell, Rufus’s last lover, had written it for to Joshua. The Prince was young at the time, but he remembered the man vividly. There had never been a shortage of laughter when Howell was around, nor of songs. “Two steps is further yet, courage little sap. Three steps, you’re almost there, your heart is singing strong. Four steps is a milestone, keep your gait so long.” He counted with each step as he took them. “Five steps and rest, you’ve conquered this hill. Six steps and seven you’ve not far to go. Eight steps is close now, the pear upon the tree. Nine steps you’ve come to, final challenge see.”
The end of the bridge was near, but Joshua resisted the temptation to speed up and dart toward it. “Ten steps,” he said breathlessly, a stride away from the end, “your journey’s end, I take my hat off to thee. The song of the rambler commence again at the count of one, two and three.”
He jumped the last plank and landed on the other side of the ravine. Even from the distance, he heard Rufus and Boyd both moan in relief.
The ground seemed to wobble beneath Joshua’s feet, and his ribcage felt like it was trying to suffocate him. Joshua resisted the urge to drop down and hug the ground. He inched unsteadily over to the tree.
Clasping the arrow with both hands, he ripped it free and reached back for his bow, ready to shoot it across. Something made him pause—Korrick’s test was more a mind game than a physical exercise, and simply shooting the arrow back seemed a rather easy end. If the examination was a metaphor for the leader that Joshua would be, then it seemed to show a lac
k of confidence to try and return the arrow before even attempting to return himself.
The purpose of the whole thing had been to earn Joshua his right to train. The arrow had no significance without him.
He loaded it into his holster, among his own arrows, and turned back to the bridge. He considered giving himself another minute to recover but knew his nerves would only sustain him for so long.
He stepped out, darting his gaze quickly up to the group on the other side. Rufus had his arms folded so tightly across his chest, it was clear he wasn’t breathing. Joshua wasn’t sure he was either. He peered down into to the ravine below and regretted it, forcing his eyes up.
“You’re almost there.” Joshua forced himself to walk on, picking his feet over the planks. “You’re almost—” He was cut off by the loud groan of wood behind him. He snapped his head around in time to see the posts that held the rope taut were straining against their supports. Even as Joshua watched, the supports began to crack, and the posts bent forward, the bridge dropped a few strides down with a jolt. Fae gave a short scream, and Rufus bellowed.
“JOSHUA!”
Joshua gripped the rope banisters tightly, the bridge rocking from the sudden motion. He gave a terrified whimper, looking back around to the path ahead.
“Athea, I don’t want to die. Please don’t let me die,” he begged, his legs going weak.
“Joshua!” Rufus was stood at the mouth of the bridge, leaning out to him. “Slow and steady, alright? You’re not going to fall. I won’t let you fall. But you can’t stop now.” Rufus squatted down so they were eye-level. “You’re so close.” He reached out even further. “Come on.”
Joshua didn’t move, tears blurring his vision. “Papa,” he moaned and the bridge slipped further, sagging. Joshua clung on for dear life, his feet slipping on the wood. He planted a foot on a rotted plank and it fell through. Joshua scrabbled upright, gasping and close to sobs.
“Keep moving!” Rufus shouted. “Joshua, please!”
Joshua screwed his eyes closed, took a deep breath and inched forward.
Blood of the Delphi (The Harmatia Cycle Book 2) Page 26
