By the time they’d packed up, Merrin had half convinced herself that the consequences would be worth it. At Tarquin’s smile, warmth settled in her chest, overriding the nagging feeling that her overconfidence might very well lead them both into danger.
Chapter 6.
The wind whipped Merrin’s hair about, cold biting into Tarquin’s already frozen body. Tarquin’s body rebelled against the desire to push on.
For two days they’d travelled, every step closer a step towards retrieving his memories.
He pulled his coat tighter and adjusted his calfskin gloves so his wrists weren’t exposed. Merrin, still dressed in the clothing they’d left the forest in, unbelievably said she no longer felt the cold currently seeping into his bones. As if the light she carried in her eyes provided so much warmth the elements hardly seemed to bother her.
Still, her cheeks and nose were red when she turned to look at him. “A few more k’s and we can camp at the base of the mountain.”
His frown grew. His head ached from the tangled memories floating near the surface. As though they were a carrot being dangled, he could never quite grasp that what was right in front of him, so he plodded on.
Like the fool I am.
He pushed on against the wind, his breath stolen as his boots crunched on the snow underfoot. He focussed on the base of the mountain and ignored the thoughts battering his head. How had he lived without knowing his past? How had he gotten up each day with so little to go on? Anger rose in his chest as he considered just what had been taken from him.
He almost tripped as he fought the fury surging through him. Like a blank spot on his mind, try as he might, he couldn’t find a pleasant memory to cling to.
How long had he been under Tartarean control? Blinded, bound and doing another’s bidding?
He scowled at the base and directed all his anger at pushing his already burning legs to move forwards.
At least he might soon have something resembling an answer. If Merrin was correct, and the old hermit could shine light on him and reveal more of his memories, then maybe there was a chance to take back a little of what was lost?
The thought spurred him on, Merrin keeping pace with his as heat flooded through his muscles.
The base camp was little more than a scattering of colourful tents. No fires were lit, and with the darkening skies threatening rain, he increased his pace to match Merrin’s. At the entrance to a large tent, she gripped his arm and sniffed. “Wait here. I’ll go and find a tent and a Sherpa. We’ll need a guide.”
Tarquin nodded though his mind was elsewhere. A sensation crept along his spine as he scanned the barren valley. Little grew here, snow covered the rocky floor, and mountain peaks towered around him.
A shiver ran down his back. The tingling crept along his skin, running the length of his body as though eyes were on him.
He squinted, eyes roaming the area for who might be watching him as he waited. Nothing stirred, nothing moved, just the ever-constant wind biting into his cheeks.
But still, something was watching. Something all too familiar. Something he’d learned to fear.
Awareness crashed over him, causing him to suck in a breath of icy air. His throat constricted as though hands were gripping him; cold trickled through his veins as he doubled over. Fear rippled down him as he realised what was happening. He choked on the bile as it rose to his stomach. A memory flashed before his eyes.
You cannot run from me. You are tethered to me, Tarquin. No matter where you go, I will find you, and you will serve me.
Or you will die.
Tarquin dropped to the frozen ground, pain screaming in his head, reminding him of why he’d never dared contemplate leaving the caves.
He needed to leave, needed to go back, or the pain would render him incapable of thought let alone reclaiming his memories.
Merrin. I need Merrin’s light.
Tarquin clawed his way to standing, his stomach churning as he staggered in the direction of the tent.
With everything inside him raging to go to her, Tarquin tore towards the only person who might soothe the pain away and end the agony writhing in his tortured skull.
***
From inside the multicoloured tent, people jammed in tight, her body pressed into the canvas wall, Merrin shook her head at the Sherpa currently trying to barter.
“Fifty is the going rate. I’m not paying a single Dockre more than that.”
The little man’s chestnut skin furrowed at his brow. “Seventy-five, girl. Take it or leave it.”
Merrin huffed out a breath and scanned the tent, looking for someone who might be more willing to help. What met her was a collection of assorted troublemakers, not all local, but all here in the outer limits of Lathrea, all likely hiding from the Tartarean’s men.
Some innocent, most not.
The Sherpa prodded her arm to gain her attention. “Girl on own, pay extra.”
She smiled sweetly at the glaring Sherpa wrapped in furs right down to his toes; at a foot shorter than her frame, he looked comical, though she knew not to misjudge him.
Like all Sherpas, he was skilled with a knife. If she was too insistent, she might just find herself at the pointy end of one of his. “I’m with a friend. And we can take care of ourselves. It’s a simple guide job. Fifty is a fair price.”
He stared, blank faced, before he rolled his eyes. “You make camp; green tent empty. I take you first light. Meet you here.”
Without another word, he turned on his heel and stalked towards the barrels serving as a makeshift bar. He picked up his drink and settled down crossed legged on the floor.
Merrin chuckled softly. If she hadn’t known what to expect, she’d have been confused and insulted.
A gust of wind drew her attention away from considering his behaviour. A chill spread over her skin, running through her, stealing her thoughts and directing them to the trouble brewing…inside her charge.
Before she could run to his aid, Tarquin stumbled inside the tent, a layer of sweat covering his pale face. His eyes searched the room, desperation written on his face. Every eye turned towards him as he waited at the tent opening, his breath coming in rapidly.
Merrin hurried to him, ignoring the inquiring looks from the crowd inside. “What is it?”
He grasped her shoulders with an intensity of a man drowning, his voice was a ragged whisper as he spoke. “The dark is following me.”
Her heart rate sped at the reminder he wasn’t yet free. She wedged her shoulder under his armpit and, drawing on the strength Onom provided all Luminary, she dragged him out of the tent and away from prying eyes.
The last thing she needed was to draw attention. Tartarean had spies everywhere, and if he were seeking Tarquin, he needed to be out of sight.
Outside in the howling wind, Merrin searched for the green tent. Her pulse thrummed as she supported Tarquin, his face contorted in pain, his eyes squeezed shut against what she knew was horrendous pain.
She leaned into him as she fumbled with the tent flaps. He made it inside before he dropped to the ground.
Her chest tight, she re-laced the flap and hurried to help him to one of the two mats. Sheepskin rugs covered the floor of the tent while the wind made the fabric ripple around them.
Tarquin groaned, his face flushed, eyes still shut. She brushed her fingertips over his forehead and grimaced at how chilled his skin was. After a quick check the tent was secure, Merrin yanked his gloves off and placed her fingers on his.
She closed her eyes and whispered a prayer for strength and courage to face the dark spreading through Tarquin. Heat flowed from her body to his frozen one. She held fast, trying to hold to the prayer and not lose herself in the rising panic. Her confidence dwindled as a tremor rippled through him, strong enough to send a wave of ice through her fingers.
She nearly yanked her hands from his in shock. How was the cold penetrating her? It shouldn’t be possible.
None of this is possible.
How could she do that? It would take days to reach Zolten. What if she wasn’t enough? What if she couldn’t get him there before the darkness stole him away?
It was too much to contemplate he’d make it so far then be snatched away from the light he so desperately needed.
His eyes flickered open, his voice weak as his fingers curled into hers. “Make it stop.”
Merrin’s throat grew thick with the yearning in his voice and the desire to help him. Her eyes grew moist as he shuddered with cold. “Hold on.”
She stared into his eyes and leaned closer. An inexplicable need to be close to him overtook her senses. A faint light began to grow in his eyes, giving her hope he was drawing closer to what would save him.
She shifted closer. Hovering over him, making sure they were connected, making sure he could see her own inner light, she allowed the warmth to fill him, nourish him and flow into him.
His shudders began to decrease, his hands still locked in hers, his eyes focussed on her. Tarquin pulled himself to sitting so they were a breath apart. The wind became a harsh quiet against the pounding of her heart.
Tarquin’s eyes flashed, bolts of colours travelling through the iris as he tugged a hand from hers and ran a warm finger down her cheek. “I knew you’d be able to help me.”
Merrin’s mouth opened, her tongue caught as she forced the words past her lips. “I’m sorry.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “Sorry for what? I thought I was going to die.”
Her veins thrummed with urgency she couldn’t give into. She faked a smile and pulled her hands from his.
His face fell. The light began to dissipate as she eased across the floor to her own mat. “I’m glad you feel better.”
Tarquin stared at her. A faint smile appeared before he lay back down. “Right. You’re just my tracker. You’re obliged to help me.”
Merrin dipped her chin as she began rummaging through her pack, more to hide the tears stinging her eyes. “That’s right. That’s how it works.”
A slow burning pain grew in her chest. For the first time since her Illumination, Merrin, child of Onom, bearer of truth and light, wished she had not pledged her life to service.
She wished with all her heart that it didn’t work that way, because there was no room for anything else.
Her eyes locked on Tarquin as he stared back at her. “You should get some rest. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
The pain in his gaze was so intense she dropped her head again and waited for him to take the hint.
Nonetheless, her heart still squeezed in her chest when he turned his back to her and pulled the bedding over his clothes.
***
Tarquin was angry, frustrated and more confused than he’d ever thought possible. But he wasn’t cold any longer. And the pain that had been screaming inside him had dissipated the moment Merrin had reached out to him.
His entire body responded to her touch, as though she were a missing piece of him that he needed to function.
He scoffed at himself as he watched the tent side flap shudder from the wind outside. His body was warm now, though he knew it wasn’t the coat Merrin had given him or the blankets now covering him.
She had warmed him: broken through the ice that crept into his heart, cut through the black that had kept him compliant for so long.
A thousand questions rammed inside his brain, and he longed to ask her the answers. But with every wary glance, his chest seemed to constrict, and it was growing harder to push aside his emotion.
She gave him something he couldn’t have on his own.
She gave him hope.
With a scowl and a huff of exasperation, he flipped over on his back and chanced a sly look in Merrin’s direction.
She’d stretched out on her mat and, were it not for the slight shake to her shoulders, she could have passed for sleeping.
A lull in the wind coincided with a strangled sob coming from her direction. He flinched at the sound, his body moving towards her without thought.
He crawled over the sheepskins covering the floor and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Merrin? Are you alright?”
Her voice was thick with emotion as she sniffed. “I’m fine. I’m just tired. We should get some rest.”
He pulled his hand away from her, ready to return to his own mat when a slight sob escaped again before she hastened to quash it.
With a frown, he gently placed his hand on her coat sleeve and tugged her arm. “It’s me, isn’t it? It’s my fault you’re upset.”
Merrin’s body twisted so fast she nearly knocked him backwards. Her face was shining with tears when she shook her head. “It’s not you. I just don’t understand why it was me sent to track you.”
Tarquin crawled back a little so she could sit cross-legged on her mat. She wiped her nose and frowned at him. “I was so sure I could help you. But what if I’m letting my feelings get in the way?”
Her eyes widened, her cheeks scarlet as she hurried to correct herself. “I mean. I have a responsibility to you. But what if I make a mistake?”
Tarquin stared at her a moment, still reeling as he feigned indifference. She has feelings?
He cleared his throat and stumbled over finding the right words that might take away the doubt she felt. “Please don’t cry. Not over me.”
Her face contorted as she struggled to control herself. “I’m just tired. Really.” She swiped her hand over her eyes and mustered a smile he didn’t believe for a second.
If only there was some way to convince her that he trusted her. To let her know he was placing his life in her hands for a reason. He just needed to make her see he didn’t doubt her. Then maybe she’d feel better and stop crying?
But I can make her feel better.
Heat rushed to his cheeks as he found the truth in the thought. He’d done it before when he wanted to return home. Fused his desire to her to make her agreeable.
He could make her feel better. But should he?
The solitary tear that escaped was enough to convince him of the validity. He just needed to control it. Only use whatever it was he had inside to help. Not to harm.
Especially not Merrin. She gave him a watery-eyed smile, her lips trembling. “I wish things were different—”
Tarquin kissed her softly. As her surprise rescinded and she responded, warmth saturated him, rolling over, through and around him. Light swirled in his head so bright he couldn’t bear it for a moment.
He revelled in it until another force tickled at his senses. His skin tingled from the base of his spine and spread. Chills ran the length of him as he pulled her closer. A murky grey edged in his thoughts, sucking out the light and the warmth, threatening to destroy the bliss he found himself in.
He pushed it away, too consumed by the light Merrin gave him and the overriding need to bring comfort to her.
Then an awareness. Of the light. Of the dark.
Of Merrin.
Of control.
He pulled away. Breathless, his heart thrashed in his chest. Merrin’s eyes opened slowly, and she raised an eyebrow. “Oh. Well. I, ah…”
His lips tugged in a lazy grin as she chewed on her lip. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to help.”
Her head cocked, and her eyes flashed before they narrowed. “What do you mean, help?”
Tarquin swallowed. His mouth suddenly dry. “You were upset.”
She rocked back on her heels, her eyes flashing her anger. “You kissed me because you felt sorry for me?”
His jaw slackened, head muddled as she shook her head.
“You kissed me out of pity? To control how I was feeling?”
A flare of anger sparked in his own chest as she pulled herself to standing, making him stare
up at her seething face. “I didn’t do it out of pity.”
She turned on her heel and made her way to the entrance of the tent. A surge of panic flowed through him as she fumbled with the tent flap.
She can’t leave. Not now.
He sprang to his feet and approached her, keeping his voice soft. “Merrin. Please listen to me. I controlled it. I felt the dark, and I fought it.”
She whirled to face him, her eyes still burning. “You controlled it? Or were you controlling me?”
He flinched as she turned away from him again. Frustration flooded his body, and he grabbed her and forced her to face him. “Would you just listen to me? I wanted to make you understand I trust you, that’s all.”
Her features softened. “You trust me?”
He nodded and removed his hand from her arm. “I’m not sorry I kissed you, Merrin. I was trying to make you see, that’s all.”
As Merrin held his gaze, her temper seemed to drain away. “That’s what you were thinking while you were kissing me? You wanted to let me know you trusted me?”
Tarquin’s heart sped as he nodded. Merrin’s frown returned as she folded her arms over her bulky coat. “In future, you could try telling me. Rather than trying to influence me.” Her lips twitched into a sad smile. “Whatever it was you were trying to accomplish, it failed. Not only am I still worried about you, now I’m worried I gave you the wrong idea about us.”
Her eyes lost their light as tears dripped down her cheeks. “I can’t be anything more to you any more than you can be to me. It’s forbidden. Luminary aren’t allowed a normal life.”
His jaw worked, his fists bunching at his sides at the injustice. The words were quick to fall from his mouth. “Then what is the point of following the rules?”
Merrin was silent. Then she closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. Her arms dropped to her sides. “Zolten can explain better when we see him. In the meantime, it’s probably better I sleep elsewhere. I’ll be warm no matter where I am. Stay here, and I’ll come get you first thing. If you need me, I’ll know.”
Without a backwards glance, Merrin unlatched the tent flaps and disappeared into the howling night.
Illuminate: Upper YA Paranormal Romance Page 7
