Imber

by Tyffany Hackett

  “This isn’t your fault you know,” Jyn said softly. His pace matched mine and he nudged my shoulder lightly. “None of us could have known someone would beat us here.”

  “There were rumors all over town. People coming from all over Araenna. One of us probably met this person, and we have no idea who, of all the hundreds of people in the world, has that scepter. I failed. I failed us, I failed you three, I failed Thrais. I went off with a crazy, ill-considered plan that could have ended with all of us killed and we have nothing to show for any of this. Nothing.”

  “You can’t think like that. Now we know that the scepter is free and a real threat.”

  “If those shadow creatures escape, if they slaughter my people? If the Titan is unleashed and she does the same? That’s on me. The blood of hundreds is at stake and they could all be gone in less than a cycle of the moon. Because those creatures will destroy Thrais before we can even respond. How do you want me to think of that Jyn? Because from where I stand, I agree with my people. I’m not fit to sit on the throne.”

  I glared at him, but tears ran down my cheeks, glittering in the fading sunlight. He reached for my arm, but I slipped away and stormed ahead on the path. I didn’t deserve the sympathy. For now, I wanted to wallow in self-pity.

  We made a hasty camp in the shade of a cluster of trees. I curled up to sleep without a word, passing up the food Meryn offered. My body ached with the need for rest, and my head pounded from exhaustion. I assumed the wound had been torn open, but we still had days before we’d see water.

  When I came to the light was fading. I was appalled that they’d let me sleep the entire day but none of them mentioned the delay, simply offered me some of the cooked meat that one of the men had hunted while I slept. After dark we started to move again. Jyn slipped back into his habit of disappearing between the trees when he heard something none of the rest of us could, or wanted to, deal with. No one spoke as we walked, and I hated the distance between us—no one would touch me, or come near me. I trailed behind them on the path, alone.

  Well, good riddance then. I saw the pity in their eyes. I didn’t need their sympathy.

  I regretted the thought immediately. I was the one who had slept the day off and who had snapped at Jyn when he tried to help. He was off killing Nahara knew what to keep us safe, and here I was, feeling sorry for myself. But, if I was honest . . .

  I was scared.

  For the first time, in such a long time, I was scared of what was happening in the world around me. The safe, secure world I’d been raised in was gone and everything was unknown. In this lifetime, I was small. Even with everything—my title, my money, my power—I had never felt so utterly insignificant.

  I didn’t notice Camion drop back beside me until he took my hand. He didn’t speak when I sniffled quietly, trying in vain to cover up that I cried at all. Instead, he tightened his grip and walked. Let me have my misery.

  ***

  Finding the clearing with the stream was an incredible relief. I nearly sobbed at the caress of the cool water on my skin and the dirt that rolled off of me in waves. The bite marks on my arm were mostly scabbed over. I washed them and left the linen off so they could breathe.

  Camion crashed through the trees right around the time I scrubbed at my face with a bar of soap. I appreciated that he made enough noise that I could have left if I wanted to, but I didn’t want to. Camion was the only one who didn’t look at me like I was going to shatter. He was patient, far too patient, but I didn’t mind that so much anymore either.

  I glanced up at him. He struggled with the bandages on his side and I silently offered help. The cuts were healing well enough considering everything we’d been through, and they only wept clear fluid now. A good sign. I tied the old bandages in the stream to wash while I wrapped new linen around him. When I finished I turned for the water again but he grabbed my hand, tugging me closer to him.

  “Let me help you.” He nodded toward the bandage around my head. I had re-bandaged the wound as well as I could but cleaning the spot had been nearly impossible. I hesitated. “Tyli, it’s your head. Don’t be ridiculous.”

  The bandage clung slightly to the wound. I still bled a bit—from what I’d been able to tell on my own that beast had definitely ripped the wound open again. Camion’s touch was impressively delicate as he rinsed the hair around the wound and gently parted the strands so he could clean off the dried blood. The area was tender, and I tried to hide my small winces of pain.

  Camion pulled a wrapped poultice from the pouch his bandages had been in. I grew suspicious that he’d acted alone. I didn’t really mind. When he pressed the cool compress against the wound I almost sobbed in relief. The hot, red skin was soothed almost immediately, and the splitting pain shrank to a low throb. He wrapped my head in linen and tucked the spare into his pouch.

  “Better?” I nodded. He leaned closer. “You can talk to me, you know? There's nothing you could say that I would judge you for.” Camion winked, but I turned my eyes to the grass. “Not even the semblance of a smile?”

  “Thank you,” I said softly. After a moment he stood.

  I thought he was going to press the matter but he left, squeezing my shoulder as he passed. I still didn’t know what to say, to anyone. In response, I tried being extra polite, tried to remind them as subtly as I could that I was grateful for them all. But the words weren’t there.

  How do you explain that you feel like a failure because you hurt the people you love the most and don’t know how to apologize? Jyn, Meryn, and Camion only ever wanted to help me, but their consolations made me feel worse. This was on me. They didn’t owe me anything.

  I owed them the world and, if I could find a way, the world they would have.

  Chapter 37

  My mind wouldn’t rest. Exhaustion pulled me down. Even while I slept, the nightmares tore at my mind, so much worse now. The gruesome scene of Mother’s murder, with the screaming man on the wall behind her. Scaling black shadow creatures that tore everything and everyone I love to small bits with giant claws. But I was always left, always alive to suffer the loss of everything. I woke sobbing as violently as I’d been sick thereafter, and I didn’t know what to do with that.

  Tonight dragged on. The air was clear and between the branches above me, stars glittered in the dark sky. The others talked quietly tonight, Camion steadily at my side as he’d been the past two nights. I appreciated the company, even if I was still stuck inside my own mind.

  I stared at the leaves on the ground around us and started counting pebbles to occupy my mind. The glances the others shot in my direction weren’t lost to me, even distracted. I wanted home, my bed. To cry until my insides were drained, to yell, and scream. To cower at the terror that roiled inside me over the missing scepter.

  We found the cave from our first night before daybreak and made camp. Meryn’s runes were mostly still intact so she only needed to touch them up before she curled in for sleep. She assured the men that no watch was necessary. Enhanced runes, she’d said. No one wanted to ask what that actually meant.

  I couldn’t sleep today. My mind offered me no peace. Jyn snored softly next to me, Meryn and Camion on his other side. Meryn slept like a stone, unmovable and ignorant to any sound around her. Camion tossed restlessly and, shortly before dawn, he bolted upright and rubbed his face before he wandered from the cave. I debated following him, but part of my mind kept shifting. I couldn’t settle on a point. Why follow, what possible good could I bring to him? Why get up at all, really, to go back to the palace and face a kingdom who already loathed me? Who would ask for my head when they found out what I’d potentially released on us all?

  Around midday I got tired of my failed attempts at sleep. I wandered from the cave and wondered vaguely where Camion had gone to. Maybe for a run, maybe for a swim. A small part of me felt guilty when I hoped against the latter—I remembered where the pond was, and I wanted to bathe before the others woke. I didn't mind his company. I simply didn�
�t feel like talking. My stomach churned painfully every time I thought about the Imber scepter and whose hands that power might now rest in. When I debated talking to the others, apologizing . . . there weren’t any words in all of the Common Tongue that could measure their value to me, or express the sorrow in my heart.

  I broke through the trees and stripped to my underthings and cotton shirt. I was desperate to soak, potential company be damned. The cold water was a shock on my skin, but I relished the chill. I swam to the waterfall and climbed onto a rock, letting the cascade fall over me while I scrubbed and scrubbed with a bar of soap. The sky was gloomy today, gray and miserable, and I wasn’t surprised when the rain started to fall gently around me. Rain was peaceful though. I loved the rain. The soft patter of the droplets as they broke the surface of the pond cleared my mind, settled my thoughts. I closed my eyes and savored the quiet, the pause in the continuous stream of panic and worse-case scenarios. After a few moments, I slid into the pool. When I surfaced, I heard a soft, “hey.” Camion sat in the grass nearby. His hair dripped with rain.

  “Hi,” I said quietly.

  He patted the grass beside him. I climbed out of the water and sat down, accepting the cloak he offered. “How are you feeling? Really?” His eyes searched my face and I shrugged. “Talk to me Tyli, please? Don’t shut me out.”

  I met his eyes. “I don’t know what words to use. How to apologize. What to say.”

  “I understand.”

  I looked down at the hands I wrung together on my lap. “How do I fix this?”

  “Not alone. We’ll figure this out. Somehow.” Camion reached up and brushed a wet lock of hair off my cheek. “I’m sorry about this, by the way.”

  I shook my hair. The strands only barely reached my shoulders.

  “I don’t blame you. There wasn’t another way.”

  “Still. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” I paused and added, “All of this, every wound, every failure. It’s all my fault. I don’t deserve any of you.”

  I froze when he tucked a piece behind my ear. A whisper of a caress followed his fingertips up my cheek. His gaze was steady with mine, and I found myself hyper-aware of the fact that we seemed so close together. Again. He ran a finger down my jaw and tilted my chin up as he said softly, “You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

  Camion held my stare for a moment before I shrugged and looked away.

  “Your eyes are so sad. I wish I could fix this for you. I wish I could make you smile.” His thumb ran a light circle over my cheek. “I want—"

  I took a breath and met his eyes when he hesitated. Before I asked, I knew what he would say. I had to know. "What do you want?"

  Camion slipped his hand behind my neck and ever so gently pulled me toward him. He pressed his lips against mine softly. Sweetly. An inquiry, not a demand. I moved a hand to his chest. His heart pounded a frantic rhythm under my palm. He withdrew and lowered his hand to rest on mine.

  “I know that—” He fumbled for the words. “I know that you aren’t sure what you want right now. But I . . .”

  Camion’s words trailed off when I lifted a hand to his cheek. I traced my thumb across the soft stubble that ran to his cheekbones. I shifted to my knees, turned to face him fully. His eyes were wary, cautious, as I followed the line of his jaw and brushed my thumb over his lips.

  I wanted to answer his unspoken question. To try to make this work with him. Because at the end of the day, he was the only one who lit that spark inside of me, who I didn’t seem to see enough of. Who was there, always, even when I didn’t know how much I needed him. And I did. I needed him. I tried so hard to deny how I felt but the truth was, when I really thought about us, I wanted him too. I cupped his cheeks between my palms to pull him closer before I timidly pressed my lips to his.

  The world dropped away. I lost all sensation that wasn’t the sweet brush of his lips or the gentle tickle of rain that trailed down my cheeks. Camion looped his arm around my waist, pulling me against him. He ran slow strokes over the back of my neck, and I leaned into him, into the warmth that soothed the goosebumps that had fluttered to life across my skin. When I shivered, he chuckled against my lips and leaned back to rub heat into my arms.

  “You’re completely soaked. Get your things and we’ll go back to the cave and the fire.”

  I didn’t want to. I had found a moment of joy, of peace, and I didn’t want to let that go. I wanted to savor the calm that lingered in the wake of that kiss, to explore this newly opened door. My eyes followed his lips, the sweet flavor of berries lingering on my own.

  But I stood—reluctantly—and turned to walk away. Camion jumped to his feet and grabbed my hand, tugged me back into him. “I want to kiss you again.”

  “You don't have to ask,” I said breathily.

  He brushed a soft kiss across my lips and offered me a smile when he released his hold again. Before I could move, he pulled off his shirt and ran past me to jump into the water. I understood the significance of the motion, what he offered. He probably struggled with the same pool of emotions I did, but there he was, handing me his heart, because he wanted to try.

  I couldn’t deny that if he looked at me forever the way he had only moments ago, I would try to take on all of those black nightmares for him.

  Darkness tried to push that bright spot from my mind, but I wouldn’t let the light go. I would cling to this moment, to him, for dear life. I would find a way to be worthy of what he offered.

  I still fought with my belt when he climbed out of the water. My wet fingers fumbled over the leather. Camion slipped his shirt on and reached out, shoving the buckle together for me. When he finished, he met my eyes. “How do you feel?”

  “My mind is a mess.”

  He draped an arm around my shoulders and pressed a kiss to my forehead. The stubble on his chin tickled my skin and I shivered.

  “Jyn will kill me if you get sick. And honestly, I’m confident in that being a literal statement.”

  I nodded and met his eyes before I stretched to my toes to kiss him cautiously. “You know you mean a lot to me. I don’t want to ruin that. I want this to work.”

  “I know.” He hesitated. “I have poor timing.”

  “No, but this is the easy part. You confirmed a feeling that I’ve been wrestling with and honestly . . . as strange as this sounds, today, us—we’re the only thing that’s made sense to me in days.” The cheesy smile on his face made me flush. “But, I need to warn you that I may be very preoccupied when we return. There’s going to be a lot of fallout when we get back to the palace. I left so hastily and with such poor planning . . . I don’t want you to think I’m avoiding you, if I’m absent a lot. And there’s the matter of Lucian—I don’t want the Council trying to tear us apart before we have a chance to be together.”

  “Where’s the fun if it’s easy?” His mouth curved into that half smile. “I’ve come this far. I’m not letting you go that easily. Your Council doesn’t scare me. Nor the prince.”

  “And Camion?” He looked down. “I want you to be sure. I want you to be fully aware of what being with me will mean for you. There’s so much risk . . . I would understand if you needed to reconsider. With my people in unrest, the attempt on my life at the coronation, and then, well, Mother . . .”

  “I’ll be fine, Tyli. I’m more worried about you.” Camion tightened his hold on my shoulders. “Besides. You’re worth the risk.”

  I wrapped my arms around his stomach, cautious of his bandages, and nestled my cheek into his chest. “Thank you. For understanding. For things I don’t even have words to express.”

  He kissed my forehead again before steering me toward the trees. “Come on, spitfire.”

  ***

  Jyn’s smirk was almost intolerable when we returned, Camion’s arm still draped over my shoulders. Both men turned so I could change into dry clothing though. Meryn built a fire close to the cave entrance so we didn’t smoke ourselves out.

  I i
gnored the smug look Jyn gave me later on too, when I curled into Camion’s side while we waited out the rain. None of us were too eager to return to the palace. I wanted to delay our return to reality, to enjoy the last moments of calm before the incoming storm. To savor the soft run of Camion’s fingers as he trailed them in absent minded patterns over my arm. But every day that we were away was another that the scepter likely moved further from us. Despite everything, despite the joy I’d found in embracing my emotions, the scepter still consumed most of my thoughts.

  Camion was right though. I couldn't face all of this alone, and I certainly didn't want to relinquish my throne. My family had held Thrais for years. I wasn't going to be the first to fail them. I would make my father proud.

  I drifted in and out of sleep, the soft patter of rain a lullaby to my tumultuous mind. The thoughts that wouldn’t let me rest earlier were soothed, for now, and the warmth and security of Camion’s arm wrapped around my back was comfort enough that I could finally relax. When I woke the third or fourth time, the rain had let up enough that we could move on. I stretched slowly before I stood, attempting to loosen the tense muscles that still ached from the days in the catacombs. I would be most grateful to sleep in my bed again, to have soft pillows and blankets and a feather mattress underneath. Camion watched me silently, a small smile gracing his lips. I held my hand out to him before offering to repack his bag. I could bend far easier. The offer earned me a quick peck on the cheek. Even that made me flush, and I turned quickly to my task before Jyn noticed. I would never hear the end of it.

  “So what’s our story?” Jyn asked quietly, minutes later. “The guards are going to ask. I’m sure Lucian told Devlyn. They’re both going to be furious.”

  “They don’t need to know the truth,” I said. “We can give them some small, nonspecific details. That should satiate them.”