He stood staring at the flap as it flew about in the breeze, bringing with it cold and dark that he knew would penetrate to the core without her inside with him.
Tarquin tied the flaps back down, with little to do but wait till morning. He retook his place on the mat, hugged his blankets to himself, and began to simmer over all that was denied both Luminary and Tartarean.
Chapter 7.
The sun cast a warm glow on the snow-capped mountains around her. Merrin inhaled deeply, filling her lungs, ignoring the frost crunching underfoot, coating her clothing and hair.
Her tears had frozen on her face as she’d sought sleep overnight. She found little but questions that refused to be answered. Try as she might, no matter which way she looked at it, being Luminary was a lonely life. One she’d not fully understood three years ago when she’d so blindly accepted her role at her ceremony.
Merrin stomped across the grass towards the tent she’d abandoned. Towards the person she’d abandoned out of fear.
Out of fear she’d break the oath she’d sworn before she’d understood the enormity of the promise.
Bearer of truth. Bearer of light. First, last and always to the Glory of Onom. Until my dying day. This I pledge. To serve Thee and Thee alone.
Anger bubbled inside her. Her eyes flashing dangerously as she covered the distance. Why had no one told her? Told her what it would feel like to find someone, to feel something, only to know that there was no hope of anything more?
Would she have agreed if she’d known how it felt to have her emotions overruled and disregarded?
The thought caused her to come to a halt, her breath misting in the air as she stared at the sun above her.
She blinked rapidly, the light above her only a speck of what Onom had shown her was possible.
Was there meaning in this life He’d granted? This freedom of remembering? Or was it cruel to show Luminary the light and make them choose a life apart from the one they’d grown to care for?
Her gaze dropped to the white tipped grass beneath her feet. “Why did you send me to him?”
Merrin lifted her head and scanned the area surrounding her. Tents were still closed. The communal tent was likely empty of drinkers and gamblers. A pen with donkeys wearing blankets lay to her right. In a few minutes, they would take one and begin the journey towards finding more of Tarquin’s memories.
With another sigh, Merrin picked up her feet and stalked towards the green tent, preparing herself to spend another day trying not to think about what she was missing out on.
The Sherpa was waiting outside, his forehead creased as he eyed her crumpled form. “You late.”
Merrin nodded, grateful at least for the distraction his arrival brought. Maybe it was for the best he was accompanying them?
Her heart and head were too muddled to allow her complete control of herself. Maybe Skylar had been right after all? Maybe Tarquin was meddling with her emotions?
Merrin huffed a breath out and stepped past the Sherpa’s scowl and untied the tent flaps.
Tarquin was still sleeping as she entered, a mound unmoving on the mat. She pulled her shoulders back and crossed the tent, dropping to her knees to gently wake him.
“Tarquin. It’s time to go.”
He groaned and pulled back the blankets, peering at her. “You can really survive outside?”
Merrin nodded and shifted back so he could stand up.
His hair was tangled as he yawned and stretched out his back. “Nonetheless, I didn’t sleep a wink thinking about how crazy that is.”
She chuckled low, pleased he could find humour in the early light of day. “It is crazy. But it works to our advantage.”
He nodded vaguely. “This Zolten. He can help me understand how this all works?”
Merrin nodded, hoping her doubt stayed hidden. Everything was riding on Zolten providing answers and helping Tarquin find more of who he really was. If Zolten couldn’t see inside Tarquin, she’d have no choice but to take him to the council in Evanswood.
A knot solidified in her throat at the thought of returning with him, memories still absent. His bond to Tartarean not yet broken.
She’d have failed. Again.
There was no option. No choice. Inside Tarquin, a war was being waged, and the side that would prevail was the side with the greatest strength.
There was no way she was allowing him to fall to the dark. Not while she still breathed.
She would find a way. If Zolten didn’t have the answers, then she’d find them herself. If she had to, she’d scour all over Lathrea searching so Tarquin would know the truth.
Even if it meant losing him to the Luminary oath of service. It was a sacrifice she’d make.
Anything to save him from the abyss that waited should he return to Tartarean without his memories.
***
His entire body aching, Tarquin forced himself to stay on the saddle of the beast beneath him. The donkey might be sure-footed on the mountain trail of the snow-covered ground, but the motion was jarring, and he almost wished he could walk.
The Sherpa riding easily beside him sent him a glower which he ignored, too tired from a sleepless night trying to work through the enormity of what was happening to him.
He huffed a breath and grasped the reins of the small animal a little tighter. Merrin’s hair fell brilliant over the coat she’d worn for the Sherpa’s sake as she rode slightly ahead of him, every so often twisting on her saddle to check.
His pride stung at the look of concern on her face, as though he were a small child in danger of stumbling.
The sun was high in the sky when the Sherpa called Merrin’s attention and motioned them to where a narrow path spilt from the main pass.
Merrin eased off her donkey and flashed him an encouraging smile. “We’re making good time. It’s only noon.”
She yanked off her gloves and gestured to him to follow. “Fensig, we’ll be right back.”
The Sherpa shrugged. “I eat. Then we go on.”
Tarquin frowned, ready to say he was sick of the attitude when Merrin pulled his arm. “He means no offence. It’s the way of the Sherpas here.”
His frown dissolved as she smiled. Yet her eyes were shadowed, her posture stiffer than her usual relaxed gait. Whether she admitted it or not, sleeping outside wasn’t ideal even if she had the ability to withstand freezing temperatures.
Something he still couldn’t fathom. A thought crossed his mind as Merrin stripped off her backpack and her coat. “Isn’t it dangerous to do things like sleep outside? What if someone noticed you weren’t cold?”
Merrin’s eyebrows rose as she folded the coat over her arm. “I was careful. By the time Fensig saw me, I was wrapped in a coat.”
He huffed a breath at the irritation laced on her face. “But still. You said Tartarean are looking for Luminary? You would have stuck out like a sore thumb.”
Her eyes narrowed, and she looked ready to protest before her expression softened. “You’re right. I’m not thinking clearly right now.”
A jolt of alarm shot through him. “But I’m not influencing you. I swear it.”
Her lips tugged into a sad smile as she sat down on a boulder. “I know.”
Tarquin nestled in beside her and forced himself to say the words he’d rehearsed all night when sleep had eluded him. “I’m sorry I’m causing you so much grief. I appreciate what you’re doing for me. I really do.”
Her smile was so warm, so inviting, he struggled not to repeat the mistake he’d made last night. His eyes lingered a little too long on her lips before he pulled his gaze away. Heat brushed his cheeks as he stared at the Sherpa. “How do you know about the mountain folk?”
Merrin leaned forward and placed her hands on her thighs as she followed his gaze. “Skylar brought me up here once when he was training me.”
Tarquin’s neck swivelled abruptly, a jarring anger building in his gut. “Skylar? The one who wrecked your door?”
“Yes.”
A rumble escaped from his throat. “He knows Zolten is up here then?”
She stared at him for a while, flashes of light in her eyes letting him know she was irritated at the question. “Yes, so what?”
His voice was rough as he ground the words out. “Why didn’t Skylar suggest you bring me here?”
Her mouth opened in a silent ‘O’ before her lips pressed tightly together. She scowled at the snow-covered rocks at their feet and shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe he didn’t think of it.”
Tarquin reined in his temper, not fully understanding why even the mention of Skylar’s name caused his ire to rise. “Sure. He didn’t strike me as the thinking type.”
Merrin huffed and folded her arms, a faint smile on her lips as she chastised him. “You don’t even know him.”
He shrugged. “I don’t want to know him.”
Merrin hopped to her feet and tugged her coat back on, a grimace on her face. “I’ll be glad to not have to wear this. I feel like I’m overheating.”
Tarquin’s grin was crooked as he stared at her. “This happens a lot, does it? You overheating?”
She chuckled. “No. I was exaggerating. But it will be nice to not have to hide anymore.”
Tarquin scratched his chin, noting the stubble that had appeared. Do I shave?
He ran a hand over his face as yet another memory floated away. His thoughts slid back to Merrin. “Is that why you hide in the forest?”
She glowered at him though it was lost as she appeared more vexed than anything. “What makes you think I’m hiding? I’m protecting the forest. But, yes, it’s easier to be comfortable when I’m at home, and I don’t need to cover my light.”
Tarquin glanced sidelong as she handed him a piece of dried fruit from her pack. “Who told you to protect the forest?”
Merrin chewed on the dried apricot and swallowed before answering. “The council assigns a Luminary a place to guard and a place to live when we’re not on duty in Evanswood.”
Tarquin stopped chewing the sticky fruit, ready with a question that had been bothering him. “They sent you to live out there all alone? Even though it’s close to Tartarean stronghold?”
Close to where you found me.
Merrin pulled a flask from her pack and took a long swallow. Her voice was tight as she replied. “When you pass a series of tests, you get assigned an area to protect.”
Interest rose inside him, trickling through his veins. “Why?”
Her face contorted as she stared at him. “They wouldn’t have sent me if I wasn’t up to it.”
He scoffed. “That’s not what I was asking. I asked why they felt it was fine to send a young girl out to the edge of nowhere to live all by herself? Is that normal?”
The look on her face and the way she sucked in a sharp breath told him it wasn’t. Whatever the reason Merrin was hidden away in the forest in a run-down shack, living like a pauper, the council was to blame.
The words dislodged before he considered them. “Are they punishing you?”
Her eyes flashed brilliance before her chin dropped to shove the flask inside her bag. “We should get moving.”
Tarquin reached for her arm only to have her back away from him, a pained expression on her face. “I can’t talk about it now. You’ll give us both away.”
She gestured to the Sherpa and with a reluctance brought of necessity, Tarquin trampled down his curiosity.
One way or another, he’d find out what it was she was hiding.
He cared too much not to.
***
All the doubt and all the anxiety caught together in a lump in Merrin’s throat as she pushed aside her feelings. She couldn’t show her emotions while the Sherpa was close. Even if she allowed herself to feel, even with him ahead of her as they carried on riding, it was too much of a risk.
One slip, one burst of light, and he’d know. There was no telling what one of the superstitious mountain folk would do, and there was no way she could navigate all the way to Zolten without his assistance.
Luminary, she may be. Mountaineer, she was not.
So, with a lump in her throat, Merrin quashed the hurt, the sorrow and the building sense of loss growing.
He wanted to know why. And that wasn’t something she was willing to share with him. He trusted her. After all he’d been through, despite the mistakes she’d made, she accomplished at least that much.
To tell him why she’d been sent for the farthest outpost, away from the halls of Evanswood, was more than she could bear. If she lost his trust, he would never get back what had been stolen.
Merrin sucked in a breath of crisp air and tried to seek solace in the fact they would soon reach their destination. Soon, Tarquin would be whole again, and if she was successful, she could start to repair the battered reputation she’d earned.
She chanced a look back at Tarquin, and despite her worry, she smothered a smile at how uncomfortable he looked. Rigid in the saddle, his forehead bunched in a frown, he looked utterly awkward.
His eyes snagged on hers, and he narrowed them in a playful manner. “Watch where you’re going.”
Merrin nodded and swung back around. Fensig muttered something under his breath and sent her a scowl. “I no take past Devil’s rock. We camp. You go on by self in morning.”
She gave him a clipped nod in return. His reluctance wasn’t anything she’d not anticipated; if anything, it worked in her favour he’d stay with the donkeys. Where Zolten had secreted himself away wasn’t passable even for the sure-footed donkeys. She and Tarquin would have to travel the last few kilometres by foot.
She swallowed as she contemplated the amount of questions she’d likely have to deflect while they travelled. His curiosity about her background and her reasons for choosing the Luminary life were growing.
Perhaps because he couldn’t find his own memories, he was becoming too eager to pull hers out and examine them?
At the crest of the hill, Merrin followed Fensig until the pathway widened enough for them to ride abreast. The sun beat down, though the temperate was still freezing. Any additional light caused her to swelter in her coat and gloves.
The minute they were alone, she’d strip back to her linen and regain a level of comfort that travelling with others who disbelieved in her kind failed to provide.
When she’d first been illuminated, one of the many questions she’d asked was why they didn’t tell people who they were.
Skylar, then the Chief and then every single Luminary she met all said the same thing.
Lathrea does not want to believe in the Light anymore.
Merrin’s jaw clenched. Not so long ago she’d been among the lost. Her life a comfortable if not pointless routine of labour, food and sleep, with little room for questions. When they did emerge in the murky fog, pain accompanied them.
So, she, like all under the Tartarean’s control, had learned to forget the questions that begged to be answered. And when the pain became too much, Merrin, as everyone around her did, sought relief from seeking the truth in distractions.
Busyness. More work. Books. Flirtation with the lads who chatted about their work in the fields she’d no desire to see. Anything to stop the pain that tore at her insides and dragged away the desire to question her existence and purpose.
Purpose she’d found among her kin. Purpose she’d long been denied. And now after finding the truth, a deep burning inside her wanted so much more than what being Luminary meant.
Her eyes turned skyward, as though Onom might shine light on the impossible questions that she couldn’t find answers to. She stared at the greying clouds, fixing on one that sparked a memory she didn’t wish to recall.
Perhaps sometimes it was better to forget? To not know what had been, what had been stolen, what could never be again.
Before she’d been taken, before Tartarean had controlled her, Merrin had been just a girl. And Tarquin would have been just a boy.
Her eyes stung; her throat
constricted as a torrent of emotion flooded her body and threatened to give her away.
The light began to build within her. Growing with an intensity that she’d not felt before. She was angry. And with each moment Tarquin was at her side, her disillusionment increased.
A tear rolled down her cheek, her mind tangled as she drew her gaze away from the sky.
There would be no choice for her to make. She’d already made it, before she knew what she’d be giving up. Now, the best she could hope for was saving others.
Saving Tarquin. That would have to be enough, because it was all she’d ever have of him.
Merrin clung to the thought, grasping it close, using it to fuel her onwards.
She would lead him to the one person who would tell Tarquin who she was and what she’d done.
Then he would never trust her again.
Chapter 8.
Merrin was quiet as they made camp. The stars twinkled above them in the inky sky. The night grew colder as the snow deepened and he assisted Merrin in fixing a canvas tent to the frozen ground. The Sherpa hadn’t seemed bothered by the sleeping arrangements, drawing away from them as he secured and tended the donkeys.
Tarquin kept his voice low as he swung the mallet into the ground. “He’s a strange little man.”
Merrin laughed softly and tugged the tent side to make sure it was secure. “Maybe. But he’s gotten us here safely.”
She stretched her back and pointed to where a small crack in the mountain appeared. “We need to go that way tomorrow morning. We’ll go on foot. It’s too narrow for the donkeys, and we need to climb.”
Her forehead knotted with concern as she looked him over, her voice strained as she spoke. “I wanted to say something before we get to Zolten. Warn you, really. He says what’s on his mind and doesn’t care the effect his words have on the people he shines the light on. It’s one of the reasons he doesn’t agree with the council.”
Tarquin eyed her. A trickle of alarm spread at the worry lacing her words. “What did he say to you?”
Surprise lit her face before she shook it off. “Oh. Well. That’s not important. I just wanted to warn you. He can be hurtful. Some of what he might say will be hard to hear.”
Illuminate: Upper YA Paranormal Romance Page 8
