“I said nostalgic, not stupid.” Fae offered him a leg-up onto his horse, and Rufus mounted, watching with a quiet appreciation as Fae then crossed to a palomino stallion and hopped onto its back, light as air.
“Breakfast,” Boyd called, from where he’d mounted his own bay. He threw Rufus an apple, which the Magi fumbled to catch. “For you,” the physician added, “not your horse.”
Rufus settled back in the saddle, his eyes narrowed. The mare huffed beneath him, and when Boyd wasn’t looking, Rufus bit a section out of the apple, and leaning forward, fed it to her.
They set off together in single file, and rode for an hour or more down through a deep mountainous pass that cast them into shadow, high stone walls either side.
“Is anybody going to tell me where we’re going?” Rufus eventually asked again. “And Malak, so help me, Boyd,” he warned as the physician made to speak, “if you say ‘south’, I’ll set your quarters on fire.”
“We’re currently headed east, actually,” Boyd said smartly.
“Fine,” Rufus snipped. “If you wish to be secretive with me, so be it.”
“Oh, he doesn’t savour the taste of his own character, does he?” Boyd jibed, and Rufus glared.
“Will you, at least, tell me why I was ripped from my bed and Joshua from his training?”
“My father is hosting some guests for the day,” Fae said, her eyes ahead. “The Mac Gearailt clan—Reilly’s family. I thought it prudent to remove you both, lest someone hear the word Magi and lost their composure.”
Rufus had suspected something of the sort. Again the group lapsed into silence, continuing on their journey. Joshua pushed on ahead so that he and Fae rode side-by-side. The pair fell into easy conversation, exchanging jokes and stories. Boyd would occasionally throw in his contribution, and Rufus let his horse fall back, disinclined to join their merriment. His mind wandered, his eyes scaling the mountains either side of him. As Joshua giggled and talked, Rufus listened to him with a foreboding sense of detachment. At least he could now be certain Fae would care of the boy. That was all Rufus could have ever asked.
“Rufus, would you hurry up?” Joshua called back to him.
Rufus’s thoughts had seeped into his body, and his horse, sensing his lethargy, had slowed her step to a lazy plod.
“Yes, yes,” Rufus muttered, kicking the mare on.
“Rufus,” Fae said, her voice sharp, “come and join me here.”
Rufus, surprised by the request, complied, riding between Boyd and Joshua. He drew up to her side, noticing that the others had slowed, allowing some distance.
“Am I being berated?” Rufus half-joked, and then grew small under Fae’s knowing eyes.
“You need to stop,” she said plainly. “You’re worrying Joshua, and you’re worrying Boyd.”
Rufus looked away. “I won’t force a smile.”
“Tell her,” a voice instructed, and Rufus jumped and looked around. Jionat was sat up on an alcove in the cliff above them. He kicked his legs as they rode by. “Tell her, Rufus.”
“I can’t,” Rufus muttered.
“I am not asking you to, Rufus,” Fae sighed. “Please don’t be so dramatic.”
“Tell her,” Jionat insisted. “You can trust her.”
Rufus shook his head, trying to cast Jionat away. “This gathering—Reilly’s family, you said—will they not expect you to be there?”
“It’s not a gathering, only a passing visit. They happen fairly frequently, so it’s of no consequence. Besides, I am not very popular in the Neve at the moment, so this trip is as much an escape for me as you.”
Rufus straightened with concern. “Why are you out of favour?”
“Well,” Fae smiled, “I brought one of the Cat Sidhes’ most hated enemies into my home, and then called him my friend, Rufus. Or did you think there would be no consequence?”
“I’m sorry,” Rufus coughed. “I…I should have realised how my being here would affect you. That was selfish of me.”
“It’s nothing to worry about. My brothers may not be speaking with me, but they will recover from this apparent betrayal. Korrick’s agreeing to train Joshua certainly eased some of the tension, and over time they will come to accept you…And forgive me, I hope.”
Rufus turned his eyes to the road. “You really put yourself at risk when you brought us here, didn’t you?”
“You would have done the same for me—that’s the nature of friendship.” Fae gave a mischievous smile. “We’re almost there.”
“Almost where?”
She ignored him. “Can you gallop?”
Rufus raised an eyebrow. “I’ve spent the last twelve years on the run, what do you think?”
Fae blinked prettily, and in the next instant, she was gone as, with an effortless nudge, her horse bolted forward through the pass. Rufus whistled after her, the breath torn from his lungs, and then he dug his heels into the mare’s side and coaxed her after Fae.
Up ahead he saw flashes of the palomino bounding through the pathway, its white tail flying after it, like a flickering wil-o’-the-wisp guiding Rufus forward. He shouted joyfully, encouraging the mare on. Fae looked back at him, her hair whipping in the wind. He caught the sound of her laughter, free as air, and he wanted to reach it.
They raced after each other, Fae maintaining the lead by a few strides. The horse galloped so effortlessly below him, it was like flight, and for first time in so long, Rufus felt the weight lift from his body.
And then Fae was drawing to halt all too soon, and Rufus, breathless, joined her as the mountain pass opened up to the glorious sight beyond. Rufus, his head light from the ride, dropped his jaw and stared.
He’d seen it from a distance, spotted it on the road or from a hilltop a handful of times, but never before had he gotten close enough to smell the air and hear the crashing of the waves. The sea was infinitely vast and colourful—blues, white and green sparkling like a million jewels, shifting in endless motion. Rufus had only ever imagined such a sight, and it surpassed all of his expectations.
“I never tire of seeing your amazement—it’s a source of constant delight,” Fae said, and Rufus climbed down from the saddle and stood, staring out.
“Fae,” he choked with wonder, “this is…this is…” He gestured dumbly.
“You mentioned in Sarrin one night that you’d never seen the sea for yourself. Joshua confirmed that remained the case, so I thought it was time to introduce you.” Fae’s expression softened as Rufus drew in a ragged breath, looking back over the water.
Fae had brought him to a rocky edge that jutted out twenty strides above the sea. A narrow, sandy path led down to a wide, spotless beach that looked so undisturbed it was like something from another world. And yet, the pale sand was familiar to Rufus, like he’d walked it before.
What was the significance of the beach? He’d asked himself that during one of his encounters with his subconscious. They’d met in such a place, and Rufus hadn’t recalled or understood why it was so important.
It came to him now, like a wonderful childhood memory. Suddenly, Rufus was flooded with excitement.
As a boy, he’d always had an insatiable adoration for the adventurous tales of seafarers and explorers. He’d poured over the books with an imagination so vivid it felt like he was walking with the characters, touching the sand beneath their feet, savouring the cooling lick of the waves, and breathing the salty air. It had inspired his desire to travel, and Rufus had drawn map after map of his neighbouring countries, planning daring expeditions. The idea of the sea had always instilled a renewed sense of life, possibility and adventure. It held a promise that nothing was ever over, or predestined or impossible—that for those who strove against the tide, life could offer something new and astonishing in return.
Rufus didn’t know when he’d lost that sense of curiosity and wonder, but somehow, in an instant, Fae had gifted it back to him, and he was speechless. It had been so long since he’d tasted hopefulness, in
any form.
“The tenth day of Prospan.” Joshua and Boyd appeared behind Fae, the Prince gleeful. “Or did you think I had forgotten your birthday?”
Rufus only stared, the words slow to process. “For me…” he eventually forced out, dumb still from awe. “All this…for me?”
“Of course.” Boyd looked equally pleased with himself.
“It wasn’t all a lie—several of Reilly’s clan are visiting today,” Fae said innocently. “But they wouldn’t have dared touch you.” Fae’s smile elongated and Rufus fought back the sudden, great urge to burst into tears.
“Papa?” Joshua asked, his brow furrowed in concern. “Are you upset?”
Rufus couldn’t speak, so instead he crossed to his brother and pulled him from the horse, into a tight embrace. He rocked the boy from side to side, holding him as close as he could before gently letting him go. And then, feeling as if he were hovering a foot about the ground, Rufus kicked off his shoes and took off toward the edge of the jagged rock.
“Rufus? Rufus!” Fae called urgently after him, but he couldn’t be stopped. All at once he was a boy of ten again, sprinting along the cliff, his body in a constant state of pre-tumble as he drove his weight forward.
The edge came at him fast, the water crashing below. He could hear Boyd shouting after him now too, but there were no fear in Rufus’s heart. He whooped and shouted, his hands in the air like a madman, until there was no ground beneath him and he leapt and dove into the churning water beneath
Even as he fell, he could feel the magic pulsing through him, and even without his command, the water rose up to greet and catch him, pulling him down into the depths. He sank like a stone, plunging, and then scrabbled with his arms and legs, pushing up to the surface. The current heaved around him, sending him tumbling, helpless against the force of the waves. He thrashed, and broke the surface for a quick breath, before another wave drove him down again, spinning him like driftwood. Rufus was powerless, but it exhilarated him, relieving him of all responsibility. As the sea took hold of his body, a hundred hands pulling him in all directions, he felt a relief he hadn’t experienced in years. The water seemed to wash away everything, and this time, when he fought his way to the surface and broke through, Rufus was laughing. The salt stung his eyes, making the day a blur of blue and white. He could just see Fae, Joshua and Boyd all peering down at him.
“Are you out of your mind?” Boyd screamed, and Rufus laughed, harder than he had in years, the waves crashing against him. “Wait, Fae—FAE!”
Rufus heard a splash close by, and then Fae was swimming in his direction, flicking her wet hair from where it clung to her face.
“Lowly lord.” She pushed through the weight of the water toward him. “Take my hand—I think you may be drowning.”
Rufus, who could barely keep himself above the water for the force of his laughter, managed to peek his stinging eyes open once more and beam at her, tears streaming down his face. “Yes Fae,” he reached for her as she came to his side, “I think I am.”
The Knights’ ambush of the alchemists had been a success, but after the battle, Brexiam, undiscovered as it was, had fallen into silent chaos. The proximity of the alchemists to their homes had warned them that, though they’d prevented it once, it wouldn’t be long before the Kathraks finished licking their wounds and came back again. A bitter acceptance had fallen among the townspeople. They’d taken a few days to pack away their things and bury their dead.
“We could have used the Faucon,” Luca murmured absentmindedly, as she packed away was what was left in the kitchen.
“The Faucon? Hah, they’re too busy guzzling themselves dizzy these days. Always were unreliable,” Ivar grunted, his arms crossed as Luca rolled her eyes. At the table, Nora Merle sat, her face drawn and eyes unseeing. She’d been like that most of the day, but for when she’d fed the children, where she’d forced a weary smile, as false as it was well-meaning. Luca crossed to her aunt, one hand on her hip, the other holding a ladle.
“If my mother could see you now, Aunty Nora, she’d be hysterical. You’ve not eaten a thing all day—you’ll waste away. Please, take something, even a wee bit of stew, for my sake. The journey to Sarrin isn’t long, but you’ll need your strength.”
“Leave her to it, Luca—she won’t budge,” Ivar yawned.
“Oh, I could just beat you!” Luca turned on him, her expression furious. “Get out. Get out and go be useful! You’ve stood there all morning, watching me work. Go—your wounds aren’t so bad. I can’t imagine the children have finished packing, go and help them.”
“But I—” Ivar began, but Luca cut him off with a furious swipe of the ladle. “Ow!”
“Go, you useless man!” she ordered, and he fled the room, darting past Torin as he appeared in the doorway. Luca scowled after her lover and then slipped into a chair beside Nora, pouting dramatically. “And to think, you pulled him into this world. You should have left him in his mother’s womb a little longer—he might have grown some balls.”
Nora cracked her first smile, and Torin joined his wife, putting his arm around her. He kissed her on the temple.
“Nora, talk to me, please.”
“I dreamt about Rufus this morning,” Nora said softly, her voice small. “And when I woke, I’d forgotten…just for a moment I’d forgotten.” She paused, and her eyes filled with tears, her arms tight around her stomach. “A mother’s supposed to feel when her baby’s gone, she’s supposed to feel it inside. But I don’t feel anything. Maybe if I was his real mother, maybe…maybe…”
Torin seized her at these words and she buried her face into his chest. “Don’t you say that, my love,” he scolded gently. “Never even think it. You were Rufus’s mother as I was his father, and he never thought otherwise. He loved you. Never doubt that.”
Nora sobbed and Torin kissed the top of her head, his own eyes watering. Luca stood, brushing her fingers over Torin’s shoulder in condolence as she left the room.
At the doorway of the house, she removed her apron, throwing it over the banister and taking up her sword instead. She called up to the children to stay indoors and then left the house.
She walked to the stable, all but empty now with many of the Knights already gone. In the corner of the room, a set of guards stood vigilant. Behind them a figure shifted. His arms were chained behind his back, his legs bound together with rope. A gag had been forced across in his mouth. As Luca approached he looked up at her with tired, red-rimmed eyes. Luca felt no pity. He was an alchemist. They’d taken him prisoner for interrogation, but now his usefulness had run dry.
She dismissed the guards with a flick of her hand. The alchemist’s eyes widened ever so lightly as the guards both silently left the stable. From behind, Luca heard footsteps, and Ivar appeared in the doorway, breathless from running after her.
He caught her arm. “What are you doing?”
“Cleaning up,” she responded, and she saw the alchemist draw himself up rigid, his breathing uneven.
Ivar hesitated and then released her arm. He didn’t have the strength to calm her rage, and Luca almost resented him when he turned away, and left her to her business.
Entering the Kathrak’s makeshift cell, Luca did him the courtesy of ungagging him before drawing her sword.
The Kathrak spat the taste of leather from his mouth and sneered at her. “So the Betheanian whores clean up all their men’s mess, do they?”
Luca ignored him, crouching down so that their eyes were level. She knew the smell of death well now, and for all the prisoner’s sneers, by the sheen of sweat on his brow and the trembling of his body she could see he was afraid. “For a man so scared of death, you’re foolishly inviting it.”
“Does the bitch expect me to beg? Kill me first, heretic.”
“I’m not a heretic.”
“Delphi Knights, faerie scum—you’re all the same, and soon we’ll wipe you out.”
“Says the man on the losing side of the battle…” Luca l
ooked down over the edge of her sword, judging it. She’d sharpened it dutifully after the battle, and it was ready to use again. It looked odd in her small hands, the claymore, but she’d learnt to wield it well.
“We caught the traitor Rufus Merle. We’ll catch you too, soon enough.”
Luca blinked slowly, turning the sword in her hands.
The Kathrak strained against his bonds. “Tell me, how did it feel? When you heard of his death—your leader? The rebellion’s figurehead.”
“Rufus wasn’t our leader.”
“No?” The Kathrak smiled, but his voice shook dangerously as Luca continued to judge her sword. “It won’t hurt you then, to hear what we did to his corpse? That we cut it into pieces and put his head on the main gate for display? That we danced and pissed on his body, then strung it up around the city for the scavengers and birds.” The Kathrak tittered. “By now, they’ll have burnt down his house, and sent everything he ever touched up in flames. Harmatia will forever use the name Merle as an insult and a slur. But no, why would that concern you? He wasn’t your leader.”
“No.” Luca’s voice quivered. “He wasn’t our leader. He was my first love.”
The Kathrak froze.
“He was my friend.” Luca’s hands tightened around the hilt, and the alchemist drew back as far as he could. “He was my family,” Luca seethed, her cheeks flaring red, “and you bastards killed him!”
The alchemist screamed in the last second as she swung her sword, and with a thud, it passed through his thick neck as easily as a wire through clay. Her blade hit the wall behind him with a crash. The alchemist’s head rolled from his shoulders and Luca stood, heaving with anger. She pulled the sword free and stared down at her victim, her face contorted with tears. “I piss on you,” she spat, and then turned and left, her dress sprayed with blood.
“Good evening,” Rufus said.
Fae looked up from her book. Beside her, the candle flickered. The evening had drawn in quickly during their time at the beach, and so at last they’d returned to the Neve. Fae had washed and changed, then gone to the library, placing herself in Rufus’s usual spot beneath the domed glass roof. It wasn’t long before Rufus came to join her.
Blood of the Delphi (The Harmatia Cycle Book 2) Page 32
