by H. L. Burke
He flinched. “Arynne, please!”
“No! I’ve lost t ... too much! I won’t l ... lose you!” She trudged away from him. “We keep walking.”
He grabbed her arm. “No, the wind is too strong. Visibility too poor. We might lose the road. If we don’t travel, we need to dig in until it blows over.”
He led her through the blinding storm. Stinging flakes blasted her face, and she could no longer feel her nose. She held onto Kay’s hand for dear life, her other hand grasping the tiny starshard. Kay knelt in front of a great drift of snow and began frantically digging, shoveling snow with both hands. In minutes he’d disappeared up to his waist, then knees. She hunkered down, trying to hold the starshard aloft enough to illuminate what he was doing. Finally he emerged and drew her closer.
“It’ll be tight, but we’ll be out of the wind.”
After removing her snowshoes, Arynne got on her hands and knees and crawled into the dark space. The starshard’s light reflected off the walls of packed snow, up a short tunnel into a rounded chamber, just large enough to lie down in. Kay slid in beside her, pulling his pack behind him. He lay next to her, fitting her back to the curve of his body. Even with the layers of clothes between them, his closeness sent a rush of heat through her. The walls of snow about them muffled the blizzard’s howl, and between the warmth of Kay and the protection from the wind, she stopped shivering.
“If you get too warm, tell me,” he breathed into her ear. “You can’t risk sweating. If you feel sleepy, tell me. It can mean we’re running out of air.”
“All right.” Her voice no longer quavered, and her jaw muscles relaxed as they no longer had to brace against the chattering. She nestled into him. “How far are we from the Starspire?”
He sighed. “I wish I knew. I know the landmarks along the road well enough, but with the snow so heavy, we could’ve passed several without knowing it. It’s also hard to judge how much headway you’re making against a strong wind.” His fingers brushed up and down her arm. “Are you feeling any warmer yet?”
“I’m fine,” she assured him. “What’s your best guess, though? About how close we are to our destination?”
He shrugged, the movement of his muscles rippling through her. Her heart fluttered. If he wasn’t Prince Olyn like she suspected she was in a lot of trouble. “We’re within at least a half moonnotch walk of it, but I’d hope only a short hike. We were making good time before the weather turned for the worst.” His arm slipped around her waist. “If I could be sure it was a short jump, I’d travel us out of here in a heartbeat. Even doubting it, it’s tempting.”
She gripped his hand. “But you won’t because you recognize your importance to me and know that I’d never forgive you if you got yourself killed trying to save me.”
He snorted. “I would never dare to risk your wrath in such a manner.”
“You’d better not,” she mumbled, closing her eyes.
He laughed then paused. “Hey.” He nudged her. “You remember what I said about telling me if you were feeling drowsy?”
She grunted. “I’ve spent the last three moonnotches tramping all over the frozen wastes. My court upbringing didn’t prepare me for that sort of effort. You’re lucky I’m not constantly falling asleep on my feet.”
“I guess you’re right.” He brushed her hood from her face. “Get some rest. I’ll stay up. Don’t worry, princess. Your journey is almost over. You’ll be in your prince’s arms, living the palace life you were born to live soon enough.” For a moment, Arynne thought she caught a hint of pain in his voice, enough that she wondered what it meant for her theory that he was, in fact, Olyn. However, before she could contemplate the meaning of this, or if she had heard it at all, darkness overtook her, and she drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Sixteen
The same magic prickled about her simultaneously familiar but with a sense of the other, as if she belonged with it, but not to it. It mingled with her own magic, the fire within her, ever present but somehow more alive when dancing with the light, fierce power. A smile flitted across her lips.
“Arynne, wake up.” Kay’s voice nudged her out of her pleasant dream.
She opened her eyes. Kay’s blue eyes sparkled in the diffused light from the starshard.
“It’s starting to die down,” he said.
She listened. In the distance she could hear the muffled swoosh and whistle of wind, but Kay was right. It was nowhere near the ferocity of the blizzard they’d hidden from.
He passed her a water flask. “Here, drink.”
She awkwardly propped herself up on one elbow, trying to elevate her head to an angle where she could tip back the flask and get the liquid into her mouth, not over her chin and cheeks. She managed—just. The water was freezing cold, still containing crystals of ice.
“What now?” she asked.
“I’ll pop out in a moment and try to get an idea of where we are. We’ll plan from there.” He passed her a square of hardtack. “Eat what you can.”
She gnawed on the hard, flavorless chunk. “I think it takes more energy to chew it than I could ever hope to gain by ingesting it.” She grimaced.
Kay chuckled. “Just keep in mind that in a little while you’ll be safe in front of a fire at the Frorian palace, probably with a slab of roasted moss-elk on your platter and a goblet of sweet honey wine in your hand.
“Sounds perfect.” She shivered.
Kay’s face grew grave, and her stomach twisted.
With the cramped space, looking anywhere other than at each other was nearly impossible. Unless Arynne rolled over and put her back to him or purposefully stared past his ear, his face was right before her. She tried to at least avoid his eyes. Somehow gazing directly into those blue gemstones was too much for her.
“Arynne—” He cleared his throat. Her gaze shot to his. “When we get to the end of our journey, things will be a little different. It ... I can’t really explain what I mean without breaking a vow, and maybe why doesn’t matter, but—I think you might know what I mean, a little?” He tilted his head.
“Maybe I do.” She swallowed. At least she suspected. Unease rippled through her. If she were right, then his unexplainable secret was his title of prince and how things would change would be that they would be married—but if so, why did he look sad?
“I just hope ... No matter what happens at the end of this journey, I don’t want to lose you as a friend. Do you remember how I spoke about Ivak and Elfrida? About people who see you for you?” He sighed. “You’re one of those people, and I would hate to lose that because of how things will change when you join the royal family. I want to still be your friend even after other things ... change.”
She considered him. “I can’t imagine any change that would make me forsake your friendship, Kay. You’ve been my oasis, my place of safety and comfort in the midst of fear and despair. I will never forget that.”
Relief washed across his face, loosening the tightness between his eyes, though he still didn’t smile. “I just hope you still feel that way when—well, we’ll climb that mountain when we come to it.” He pushed his pack out of the way. “I’m going to scope out the conditions. Wait here.”
Though part of her balked at him taking the risk while she huddled in a hole like a desert fox kit cowering in its den, her own muddled thoughts kept her from protesting. He wormed his way down the narrow tunnel and out of sight.
Her insides trembled. What did he mean about things changing? If he meant that she’d be a princess and he just the “glorified soldier” he’d originally presented himself as and therefore they’d be expected to travel in different circles—well, it made sense, but it didn’t account for the many other things she’d observed about him. He had used starcasting magic. Only the royal line could do that. He’d told her about the royal line purposefully restricting themselves to a single male heir to keep their magic “exclusive” ... therefore if he used starcasting, he had to be the heir. What else could he be? Who e
lse could he be?
But if so, what did he mean about things changing? Could he be afraid she’d be mad at him for the prolonged deception? He’d hinted that was due to an oath, probably to his father, the king, the man he’d described as stubborn, temperamental, and perpetually disappointed in Kay. The relationship was obviously complex and painful for him.
Maybe she should tell him that she suspected. It would take a burden off his shoulders, and she was sick of living a lie.
“The weather’s cleared. You can come out!” Kay called into their snow shelter.
After tucking the starshard into a pocket of her coat, she crawled out then accepted his hand when he offered to help her stand. Clear sky spangled with stars stretched above them, obscured by only a few wisps of clouds. He put his pack back on.
“I think I know where we are.” He grinned.
She reached for his hand. “Kay, there’s something I need to ask you.”
A blood-chilling howl pierced the quiet landscape. Arynne whirled, fire sparking unbidden to her fingertips.
A group of shadows broke the horizon, racing across the moonlit snow, fast as diving sandhawks. Five, ten, twenty—no more. The grimwolves poured over the hill’s crest, dashing towards them.
Gritting her teeth, Arynne pulled more magic into her hands.
“No!” Kay grabbed her shoulders. “There are too many. We can’t fight. We need to run.” He dropped his pack to the ground, his eyes hardening. “Look, I think this is within my limit, but if it proves too much—tell my family I did my best, and I’m sorry, all right? And I’m sorry to you, too.”
Arynne’s tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Realizing what he planned and not wanting him to try it, she tried to pull away, but before she could, Kay’s magic crackled around her, and the landscape flickered about them. The moonlit silver snow, the cold black sky filled with stars, the swift, deadly grimwolves—it all whisked away to be replaced with a blinding golden light.
Chapter Seventeen
Kay gasped and collapsed, knocking Arynne to the ground as he fell.
“Kay!” Arynne wailed. Dots danced before her eyes, but she managed to wriggle out from under the crush of Kay’s body and kneel over him. His chest rose and fell and in great gulping breaths, and when she touched his face, her hand came away slick with sweat, but he was alive. “You idiot!” she growled through clenched teeth. “What did you do?”
“I told you I recognized where we were.” He laughed wearily. “I knew the jump would be at the edge of my capabilities, but I thought there was a chance we could make it, and I was right. Arynne, look.” He raised a trembling hand and pointed behind her. Arynne’s head snapped to look. Her jaw dropped. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she found they sat in a green field, surrounded by grazing sheep who didn’t seem to care that two people had magically popped into being mere feet from where they chomped on the greenery. Below her, a great sloping valley stretched, filled with narrow streets and stone houses. Flowering trees lined the roads leading up to a great castle and beside the castle towered a spire of twisting arches—another starshard but this one far larger than the previous one they’d camped beneath.
“The Starspire?” she whispered.
He propped himself up on his side and grinned at her. “Yeah. We’re there. We’re safe. We’re home.”
Relief and delight flooded her, and she tackled him in a fierce hug. Laughing he returned her embrace. Arynne’s whole body shook, overwhelmed by fleeing terror and the sudden influx of joy. They were safe. They’d made it. Against all odds, they’d made it. Together.
She found herself giggling madly. His hold on her tightened.
“We made it,” she gasped. “We made it. I can’t believe we made it.” She looked up and found her face an inch from his. He froze. Their gazes locked. His lower lip slackened, and his beard brushed against her cheek. Allowing her eyes to fall shut, she leaned into it, anticipating his touch.
He jerked away. “What ... I’m sorry, Arynne.”
Her eyes snapped open.
His cheeks reddened, and he shuddered. “Forgive me. I got swept up in the moment. I didn’t mean to.” He stood, leaving Arynne sitting, befuddled in the grass. What had just happened? Had he been about to kiss her? And had she wanted him to? At least to the last question, she knew the answer. She had wanted him to, very much, and disappointment now filled her chest that he hadn’t.
She stood. “Kay?”
He wiped his hand across his eyes. “It’s just ... this whole time, traveling with you, being close to you ...”
“Kay!” she repeated, louder this time.
His gaze shot to hers, though he still gaped at her in what she could only describe as bewilderment. A laugh threatened to escape her, and she smiled at him.
“You aren’t mad?” His brow furrowed.
“No, Kay. I know your secret.” She stepped closer.
He drew back. “You ... you do?”
She nodded, confidence growing within her. “There were a lot of little hints. How the others treated you, little things Ivak let slip, your closeness to the royal family—but what clinched it for me was when I saw you starcast.”
His mouth opened and closed for a moment. “You did?”
“I was right, then?” She tilted her head. “You can starcast.”
“Yes, but I tried not to do it around you, or allow the others to let on. My father made me swear to keep my identity secret. I had to vow on my mother’s grave or he wouldn’t consent for me to make the journey. It’s been eating me up inside, but you knew? You’ve known for a while?”
“Yes.” She came to stand right in front of him, less than an inch between them. He stiffened. “I almost confronted you a few times, but I figured you were hiding it for a reason, Kay.” She tilted her face towards his, imagining his lips against hers and how satisfying that would be. “Or should I say Olyn?”
Kay’s eyes widened, and he staggered back a step. She swallowed, that hadn’t been the reaction she’d expected or hoped for.
“Oh, Arynne ... oh, Arynne, no.” His face pinched in pain.
A knot formed in her chest. Was she wrong? But how could she be wrong? Still, from his reaction, she was wrong. Her head swam. “You aren’t the prince?”
“I’m a prince.” He winced. “I’m not ... Arynne, my name is Kajik. I never lied about that, and yes, I am the son of King Evyd, but I’m not the prince. I’m not your prince. Prince Olyn is my brother.”
“Your brother?” The words hit her like a slap to the face. Suddenly feeling way too hot, Arynne desperately shrugged off the heavy winter cloak. It didn’t help. “But that’s ... you said the kings of Frorheim only have one male heir, so they can keep their magic restricted to their bloodline. You said they have magic to stop—”
“They do, but ... I was an accident, a mistake.” His gaze dropped to his boots. “My parents wanted another child, but they knew to preserve the bloodline it would have to be a girl. They employed every magic available to them to conceive a princess and ... and somehow they still got me. No one could tell them why. I wasn’t supposed to exist, but being a disappointment—I was kind of born into it.” He shook his head. “I somehow never thought you’d put together that I was a prince, and I didn’t think the deception mattered—I didn’t think ...” He trailed off.
Tears smarted in Arynne’s eyes. She clenched and unclenched her hands, wanting to be angry at how he’d deceived her, but in truth, she’d deceived herself, latching onto clues, seeing what she wanted to see, giving herself an excuse to feel—whatever this was.
“Father wouldn’t let Olyn leave Frorheim. Said it was too dangerous a journey for him to risk his heir,” Kay continued, still focused on his toes instead of her. “But me?” A wry smile quirked his lips, though agony wrinkled his eyes. “I’m expendable. Always have been. Olyn begged me to go on his behalf, to be certain that the princess the emissary chose would be a good match for him, to make sure she reached Frorheim unharmed. I
promised him because my brother is everything to me, Arynne. When I befriended you—it was because I wanted to see you as his future bride, my sister. Not ... not anything else.”
“Sister.” The word tasted sour on her tongue. Could she have misread him so badly? Was that really how he saw her? She bit her bottom lip, conscious of the rise and fall of his chest, the pain in his eyes. She tried to make eye contact, but he shied away like an injured animal.
No. She hadn’t been mistaken. Not completely.
“Kay, look me in the eyes and tell me that you feel nothing for me beyond duty to your brother.”
“We’re friends, Arynne.” His tone hardened, but he ignored her request to meet her eyes. “I said that.”
“Just friends?” Growing bolder, she placed her hand on his chest. “Is that really all you feel for me?”
“That’s all I can feel for you.” His shoulders slumped. “I was sent to bring you as a bride—”
“For your brother, but Kay, what we went through together, doesn’t it mean anything?” She eased her hand up his chest onto his neck. He shuddered beneath her touch. She could feel his magic, crackling under the surface, calling to her own, to mingle, to join in a song of passion and power. Brother to her betrothed or not, this was meant to be. “I say again, look me in the eyes and tell me that what you feel is towards a sister or even a friend and not—” Her voice cracked. What was she even trying to do? What did she even want from him?
Him.
She wanted him.
She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life, more than she’d wanted freedom from Vanya’s court, or a chance to use her magic. No, she couldn’t give him up, not without a fight, not when every instinct screamed at her that he felt the same.
“We could run away,” she whispered.
“I can’t,” he breathed. “My family ...”
“They don’t even know we’ve arrived. We could’ve perished in that avalanche along with everyone else, and they never would’ve known. Kay, you say your father doesn’t care if you live or die, so why return? We could find a place to hide. Maybe at the other starshard? Or we could return to Solea? Even the Gloaming ... there’s so much world, and we could see it together.”