“Take this,” he said, throwing the rains in Ampelio’s face.
“What… ow!”
Evandro crouched and moved a tuft to the side. His heart skipped a beat.
The slipper was covered in mud, its sole flapping from the heel. Still, it was silk, with a silver thread painting the slender shape of many butterflies on the toes.
Not a peasant shoe, and still on the open enough to be a recent track. He crushed it in his fist; the gasp by his shoulder startled him.
“What’s that?” Ampelio asked, crouching behind him.
“A clue,” Evandro answered, taking back his horse. “One I didn’t expect to find.”
“Oh? So we’re after someone!”
Evandro turned and poked him in the chest.
“I am after the cause of this mess, burned villages, dead people, and all the tragedies I’ve witnessed. You are just a busybody who happened to stand in my way.”
“The Asares princess!” Ampelio whispered, his hazel eyes round and shining. “That’s your quest!”
“I wouldn’t call it a quest,” he grumbled. The beaten track wound up the hill, fresh enough to be clearly visible. No horses, and no more than three people. If the princess was not among them, they surely had to know something about her.
He tucked the shoe in his satchel and ignored Ampelio's excited buzzing, eyes on the path.
For the whole afternoon, Evandro battled a sense of hurry that spurred him to jump on his horse and just follow the lead. Somehow, though, he kept on foot, scanning the woods for any piece of proof that suggested his prey had walked that same path.
Not a very cautious prey, he thought, taking a broken twig from a bush.
They might as well have left signs and arrows to point into their direction, he thought. A jay chortled from a chestnut tree deeper up the slope--a warning, and the sign nobody was near enough to alert the birds before the two of them.
Despite everything, Evandro had to admit Ampelio had heeded his threat: not a single mention of the Laskaris during his endless tales and stories. Maybe he really thought Evandro would’ve killed him otherwise.
It was dark when they stopped. Ampelio let out a relieved sigh and stretched his back.
“I was about to ask for some rest, you know? We’ve been hiking for hours, and my back hurts, so…”
Evandro slapped his hand on his mouth and pulled him behind a tree.
“Shut up,” he hissed. He peeked from the tree and squinted. There, under a rocky ledge at the top of the hill, was the faint red glow of a dying fire.
Ampelio groaned, and Evandro pressed his palm harder on his mouth. He shoved him against the tree and put his lips to his ear.
“Now I’m letting you go, but you must be still, quiet and--did I mention still?”
“Mmph!”
“No, listen to me: I need to check on that camp, and I don’t want you in the way when I find out if I’m right. Nod if you get me.”
Ampelio gulped and nodded once. Evandro removed his hand and pointed at the horse.
“Keep him here. I’ll be back soon.”
He crouched in the bushes and took a first, silent step. The sword was heavy and encumbered his movements; he kept the scabbard close to his side and slithered on.
The campsite was just minutes from his position, but he took his time. Slow and steady, placing his boots on every patch of dry dirt and avoiding the leaves whenever it was possible.
Halfway up the path, he stopped and kept his eyes closed for a moment. When he opened them again, he could see two shapes slumped by the fire, quiet into sleep. Another step, and then one more. The figures gained definition.
They were small, and in the dim light of the fire they seemed very young. He caught a glimpse of scruffy reddish hair and dark skin, and knew that one wasn’t his target. A glide to the left, he ducked under a low branch and prayed his heart didn’t sound so loud outside of his head.
Two girls. The second one, wrapped in a faded blue dress, was on her side, snoring softly. A pale, heart-shaped face, dark hair coming loose from the braid on her forehead.
The deep black circle on her freckled skin had him hesitate--a mage, and a powerful one. He needed to be careful. But when he bowed to check again, another detailed hit him.
From the frayed bodice, a silver pendant peeked among the blue folds. A slender chain, and what looked a lot like the wing of a butterfly.
His heart jumped in his throat.
He didn’t need the detailed description the Asares soldiers had exchanged, or even to trust his own sixth sense. A dark haired teen girl, with enough magic to wipe away a whole country and with the Asares’ symbol hanging from her neck. His hands were chilled, his palms sweaty.
The princess was asleep at his feet, as harmless as a pup. How could that girl be responsible for all the devastation he’d witnessed, both when he was a fiery tempered boy of twenty trying to defend his king and now, a pathetic failure in a land set ablaze by its tyrant?
I can end this madness, once and for all.
He slowly bared his blade, inch by inch, as quietly as possible. The sharp edges made little sound against the well-oiled leather, and the two girls didn’t move.
When he stood up at the princess’ side, he bit the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted blood.
It was so all too easy. A whole platoon of trained soldiers had failed to find this little thing, peacefully at his mercy. All he had to do was lower his sword right there, burying it in the soft dimple at the base of her throat. A fast and merciful death, and she’d barely wake up to feel any fear at all.
Do it. Blood calls for blood, and the Asares have spilled enough to drown the whole world already.
He swallowed, but his throat was clenched.
Why am I hesitating?
The princess smacked her lips and opened her mouth, her breathing still slow and deep.
Evandro bared his teeth. Her innocent look was a farce, and he knew it. Hadn’t it been for her, Eliodoro would’ve still be alive, and with him.
The picture of his beloved prince, with his bright eyes and loud laughter, hardened his resolve. He curled his fingers around the hilt and held his breath. Eyes to the starry sky, he sent out a prayer to the Mother, for the girl’s soul and his own, and lifted his arms.
A brutal grip on his elbow stopped his movement. He stumbled back, rustling the leaves and falling against Ampelio.
“No! What are you doing?”
“The right thing. Let me…”
“You can’t kill a sleeping girl!” he hissed, trying to drag Evandro from the camp.
“Step aside, Ampelio, or I’ll kill you too,” he snarled. He punched Ampelio in the stomach and turned around.
Only to find his precious element of surprise was blown.
The two girls were awake; the brown skinned one on her feet, her huge black eyes staring at Evandro as she stood in front of the princess, who was awake but still confused.
Ampelio was on his knees, groaning, and Evandro rose his blade.
“Move aside, and no harm will come to you. I’m here for her.” he said out loud in a flat voice.
“Who are you?” the princess whimpered, crawling back from the fire.
“No one,” he repeated again. Then he looked at the stranger girl again, flicking his wrist and blade. “Move. You’re in my way.”
“Like hell,” she replied, clenching her fists. She looked fit and strong, but was clearly no warrior, just a stubborn child in the wrong place. “Don’t… hurt them, it’s not like you,” Ampelio moaned. Evandro ignored him and took one step forward. The girl didn’t back away.
“Do as I say, little one, or…”
A kick, an arch of sparkles and embers. It caught Evandro on his legs, inoffensive enough.
A distraction.
“Gaiane, run!” the girl yelled, throwing herself against Evandro.
Her weight unbalanced him, and he opened his guard not to run his sword through her.
&nbs
p; The princess jumped to her feet and shoot through the night.
Evandro cursed.
All too easy? He’d been wrong.
He grabbed the girl’s arm, stopping her attempts at punching him--well, one attempt was successful, and his lip split and bled. A sharp twist that made her squeal, and he shoved her away. He didn’t even stop to see where she landed and followed the princess.
That, at least, was the plan, because Gaiane didn’t go very far. Evandro saw her leap behind the fireplace and point straight downhill, only to shriek and fall a few yards later.
“Evandro!” Ampelio yelled from the camp. “Stop!”
His words, hurried and terrified, didn’t pierce the veil of Evandro's fury. He reached the princess in a few long strides and prepared to kill her. Now he really had no other choice--he needed to stop her before she could cast a spell.
Gaiane was curled up in the leaves, holding her ankle. Evandro felt a sting of regret at her disheveled state, her braids loose on her shoulders. Even in the darkness, she looked so painfully young…
“I’m sorry, but it’s the only way,” he said, unsure if he was talking to her at all.
Gaiane lifted her face, and her eyes were only two glimmering pools of tears.
“I don’t want to die,” she whined.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, lifting his sword.
The hit in the small of his back made him snort and almost drop his sword. He had no time to turn around, because that other girl was on his back, her arms around his neck and his heels kicking him in the thighs.
“I told you to run!” she cried out. Evandro let go of his sword and grabbed the strong forearms choking him.
“I can’t run, Leo! I fell and twisted my ankle!” the princess sobbed.
“Well do… something! Anything magick-y!”
“You know I can’t!”
Evandro grunted and abandoned his attempts at unfurling this Leo’s arms. He shot his arms backwards and grabbed her by her shoulders, pulling her hard toward him.
In a second, the pressure on his neck shifted. He threw the girl over his back and on the ground, dropping her unceremoniously in front of the princess.
“I… don’t want to kill you, Leo. It’s Leo, isn’t it?” he panted, reaching for his sword again.
“And I won’t let some Asares son of a bitch take her!” Small as she was, this girl was resilient. In a second she was back on her feet and ready to charge again. Evandro pushed her away with his shoulder, but not before Leo could scratch him across the face.
“He’s not an Asares!” said a panicked voice above them.
Evandro got his sword, and turned toward Gaiane. She was still crying, and it made it all even worse than it was. Leo rolled somewhere in the bushes, muttering profanities and apparently stopping by a tree with a grunt.
Ampelio cleared his throat and tried again, but his tone sounded as loud and nervous.
“He’s Evandro, the Dawn Star! And he’s not dead… is he?” He hurried toward Evandro, his voice broken. Fear, disillusion… hope?
Evandro panted and lowered his sword. His cheek burned, and Leo returned once more, a scruffy shape in the shadows.
“No, he’s not! The Dawn Star was a hero, and this one is just a coward who attacks a sleeping girl!”
“I swear he is! Please, Evandro, I beg you--don’t do it. You’re better than this, I know it!”
“You know nothing!” he screamed. Too many voices, too many people. Like in Nikaia, during the siege--people he needed to fight or to protect, people he’d failed, his duty heavy upon his heart. He closed his eyes and let the sword fall from his hand, grabbing his head and groaning.
Better than this. Was he? Eliodoro would’ve said the same.
His breath shattered in heaves, his fingers tingled. When he came back to his senses enough to open his eyes again, he realized he was doubled over, shaking. Leo was at the princess’ side, helping her up and supporting her over her shoulder.
“I won’t let you take her.” she said. So low and serious, with all the hidden fire of her youth.
Ampelio appeared at Evandro's side, his voice still a bit wheezy.
“I know what you want to do, but this is not the way.” he said. His hand lingered close, and Evandro swatted it from his shoulder.
“I could’ve stopped the Asares,” he growled.
“And damn Epidalio to a slow and painful death.” Ampelio ignored his protests and patted his back, walking toward the two girls. “My ladies, I’m devastated you needed to… what’s wrong with my voice I swear I have no idea. Anyway, my friend, here, was shocked, and…”
“Shocked my ass!” Leo said. “Come any closer and I’ll kick your butt, too!”
“Please, leave my butt be. Would it help if I said I’m with the rebellion, and I can…”
“No.” Evandro stepped in, taking his sword and putting it back at his side. “Not like that.”
“Just like that, instead,” Ampelio pressed on. “Come to Nikaia, and I know we’ll find a way.”
“Nikaia?” Gaiane whined. Wasn’t she done crying yet? “B-But it doesn’t exist anymore!”
“It does,” Ampelio said, but now it was Evandro he was speaking to. “You want to help your home? I can show you how. But you need to trust me.”
Evandro stared at him without seeing him.
Gaiane was still there, and she wasn’t going anywhere, not with a twisted ankle. But the outburst of blind violence was gone, and in its place he found only disgust for himself. Ampelio was serious, intense even without a glimmer of magic to his tone.
Leo broke the stasis.
“First, I don’t trust you, so I’m not coming with you! And neither is Gaiane… right?” She turned to the princess with a questioning stare.
“No, I’m…” Gaiane hopped on one foot and sniffed.
She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and looked up to Evandro. Her pale face was covered in freckles, her eyes puffy, and when she twisted her frail hands in her lap she looked even younger. A frightened child taking one tentative step forward a big, scary dog—and Evandro didn’t feel like he was anything but a snarling hound, at the moment. The girl gulped and clenched her teeth; moving forward was clearly costing her every drop of her determination, and it showed. She extended her hand, and brusquely retracted it when Evandro glared at her.
She should’ve fled. Turn her back on him and ran in disgust.
She didn’t.
After that first hesitation, she breathed through her nose and squared her shoulders, reaching out for him again.
Evandro almost recoiled at her touch, a cool hand brushing his wrist. “You are him. The Dawn Star—the hero. Even I know of him… are you?”
“I said the Dawn Star is dead,” he muttered, but Gaiane shook her head.
“I don’t believe you. I may be inexperienced, but you are a bad liar. I can see it in your eyes, there’s more to you than violence.” She sighed, and her long pale throat trembled. “I wish the same could be said of me…”
“Don’t be ridiculous, girl. Anyway, what do you want from me? I tried to kill you, you should be… running? Screaming? Whatever, but stop preaching, I…”
* * *
“I want to atone for what I’ve done to this land, and now, perhaps, I’m starting to see how. I… I’ve never seen the entirety of the damage I’ve caused during the Slaughter, and I need to know. To witness the tragedy.” She nodded, still pale and shaky, but with a new glimmer of determination in her blue eyes. “I want to go to Nikaia. I need to see--to atone.”
Leo burst into a rough laughter.
“Absolutely not! It’s a pile of rubbish, and-”
“Leo. Please. If I really want to make up for my role in the conquest of Epidalio, awareness is the first step. Nikaia must be where this all begins.”
Evandro pinched the bridge of his nose. Killing the princess would’ve saved him a lot of headaches, but leaving Ampelio to the Asares would have had the same
effect.
Hearing those words spoken in the princess’ shaky voice—atonement, awareness, the signs of a new hope—hurt even more than the realization that he’d been really close to hurting someone little older than a child. It had seemed to right at the time, when blood was rushing to his head and steel was heavy in his hand, but now…
A new path, starting from Nikaia. The burying site of my past self. I should go and check if I’m still alive, after all.
Being a beast in the wild had been easy. A comfort in the bleary years of his exile. Now, somehow, that identity was starting to feel wrong on him, like the skin of a lizard right before it molts. Something else, old and almost forgotten, but still burning with life, was starting to resurface. Evandro wished it had stood dormant: he had learned to accept that he wasn’t a knight anymore. And he hated being wrong.
Now that Gaiane had planted the seed of Nikaia in his mind, though, he couldn’t shake it off.
A new path, he’d said to himself. One he had to take to find himself, maybe.
Might as well set off.
“Ampelio,” he snapped. “Get my horse, if you were smart enough not to let him wander off. If it’s Nikaia you all want, I’m taking you there.”
And then we’ll see.
Chapter 13
“You could’ve ran,” Leo said quietly. She glared at the wide back of the man walking in front of them, his calloused hand wrapped tightly around the reins of his horse.
Gaiane couldn’t hear her. Riding sidesaddle with her head low and her hair half undone, the princess had spent half of their two days of march complaining about how her back hurt, how she wouldn’t eat the rabbits Evandro caught for them, and how long would it take to get to Nikaia? True, it was a little better than her past whimpering, but after a while, even Ampelio had given up and stopped trying to comfort her.
Resentment churned her stomach. She had come to accept Gaiane, and her tale of imprisonment and brainwashing cast a brand new light on her prejudices on the princess. The blooming affection for the girl clashed with the resentment for the situation she’d put Leo in. Going to Nikaia wasn’t at the top of Leo’s priority list, especially when in company of two strangers—one dangerous, the other nosy. Hadn’t Gaiane been so clumsy she could’ve escaped, and Leo with her. But no, she had wailed about her twisted ankle, and it wasn’t even swollen or bruised!
The Other Side of Magic Page 18