Dreams of the Fae: Transcendence

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Dreams of the Fae: Transcendence Page 17

by Anna Patrick Paige


  He shrugged.

  “What is there to hide?” I held up my hands, showing him the blood staining my palms. “It’s no secret what you’re doing out there.”

  His eyes darkened. “That’s none of your business.”

  “Maybe it’s not, but do Bromly and Flint know the real number of people who come into this valley that you murder? The amount of innocent lives you take when you are ambling around on your own?”

  Tension stiffened his shoulders. “Do you honestly believe I run about killing every man I see?”

  “No, there are women and children too,” I snidely remarked.

  “You are out of line.” His voice rang with controlled anger.

  I scooted away until I found the end of the bench. “Perhaps I’m not the only one.”

  His expression changed to amusement as he watched me shy away from him. “All right, fine. It’s animal blood. A stag, to be specific. You can go outside and see for yourself. Some animals are easier to hunt at night.”

  “And the wine?”

  “Asking anyway? Call it a gift from a friend. One I was content to share with you until you opened that pretty mouth of yours.”

  I covered my lips at his words. He thinks I’m pretty. My cheeks flushed. I quickly composed my thoughts before they ran me into senseless trouble.

  Darric retrieved the half-empty bucket of water Bromly had used for tea. He set it between his legs and dipped his hands into it. The rusty dried blood turned red as he washed.

  I rubbed my fingers together; the staining wasn’t going anywhere.

  When his hands were clean, he connivingly left the bucket beside his feet. If I wanted to wash, I would have to move closer. He shook excess water from his fingers and leaned his forearms on his knees.

  Even without the fear of dying, Darric Ursygh made me inconsolably nervous, but I hesitantly crept towards him and eased my hands into the bucket, concentrating to prevent the water from exploding. Relax. I rubbed my fingers together and avoided eye contact, since he was staring at me with a devious smirk. “Do you always hunt at night?”

  His mood reverted to contempt. He breathed out heavily, as if he would have preferred I’d stayed silent. “No.”

  I wiped my wet hands on my dress and waited patiently for him to continue.

  “It’s safer if I stay away from the Hovel at night. It gives my brothers peace to rest.” He leaned closer, looking satisfied that his mere presence sent me into a timorous disarray.

  “Insomnia.” I stared at my feet, poking at a fur tuft on the rug with the tip of my shoe. “Flint told me you have violent tendencies when you sleep.”

  He scoffed. “And how I’m damaged and he is an innocent bystander? And how Bromly’s mother rescued the lot of us from a childhood hell?”

  The derisive edge in his voice captivated me. “Actually, I found it remarkable that you care so much about their well-being. I didn’t expect it. Everything about you has seemed so . . .”

  “Sadistic?”

  “I was going to say impassive.”

  He laughed. “You’ve learned a lot in my absence.”

  “Not as much as I’d have liked.”

  “You’re interested?” he inquired, still studying the side of my face.

  I felt too exposed to him. I desperately needed to back away for my sanity. “I’d be lying if I said you don’t intrigue me.”

  He got up before my head completely fogged and carefully peeked behind Flint’s bedroom door. Certain that his brother was still snoring, he dropped the fur back into place. “You’re not tired?”

  “No.”

  “Not even a little?”

  “Uh-uh.”

  He clenched his jaw. “Then I think you and I should discuss some things. Come for a walk with me.”

  My breath hitched. The cat arched her back and hissed, her hair standing on end in obvious detestation.

  “Can’t we talk here?”

  He methodically shook his head and went into his room to retrieve my cloak. He set it on the bench beside me. “What if I promise not to kill you?” He held out a hand to help me up, but I stood without taking it.

  He retracted his palm. “Independent or stubborn?”

  “Chivalrous gesture, Darric, but I’m not giving you another thing to deny later.”

  “Fair enough.”

  The blue glow of fading night spread along the horizon. Spring warmed the valley, and a sheen of morning dew clung to the grass instead of frost. Deer drank from the river in the peaceful silence and only looked up when they heard our footsteps.

  The carcass of a freshly killed stag lay next to the Hovel door with its throat sliced.

  Darric walked several paces in front of me. I watched the wool of his cloak sway as he moved, and the golden strands of his chaotic hair caught the first yellow rays of the morning sunlight.

  The cat trailed by the back of my dress, half hiding under my skirt. She seemed just as disturbed as I was by the fascinating atmosphere of terror Darric created. He made my skin tingle—the thought of his solid arms wrapping around me, burning and tense from running; the roughness of his hand holding my mouth shut. I couldn’t forget the feel of his touch when he had led me away from a hallucinated wisteria forest towards the Hovel. His complicated persona tugged at the inner recesses of my sanity, and I wondered if I would ever understand him. Why did he keep protecting me when his attitude was the opposite of his actions?

  Following the most withdrawn of the Hovel brothers across the valley reminded me of an execution. I could have been walking to my own death. My only consolation was his promise not to kill me. Maybe I could still turn back.

  Darric splashed through the stream, trudging knee deep through the icy water. I continued trailing him across the rushing brook.

  When we reached the other side, he stopped abruptly and turned to face me, gazing at my dress with riveted perplexity. I chased his eyes to find dry fabric, except for an inch around the bottom of my skirt. My heart hit my ribs in hard thumps. I couldn’t think, and my jaw fell open. I had unconsciously walked over the water, and it had not gone unnoticed by my ever-vigilant stranger.

  “Let me make something perfectly clear.” He placed his finger on the underside of my chin to lift my head higher, forcing me to look into his stabbing gaze as he towered over me. “There is a reason why I haven’t killed you yet, and if you are going to lie to me, then I see no incentive to disclose anything further to you. So I’m only going to ask you this once.” He removed his finger, leaving me iced in fear. “The night the bandits caught you, were you running from the Onyx Guard?”

  My chest tightened with dread, and I doubted I’d ever be able to breathe again. “What?”

  “If the Onyx Guard is tracking you, they will come here. I can’t have that happen.”

  I hiccupped, gulping in short erratic breaths. “Why would they be tracking me?”

  “Don’t. Lie.” He pointed a stern finger between my eyes, and the cat spat at him.

  “And you never thought to ask me this before you decided to bring me to this valley?”

  “A mistake I can correct, and that is why there is the solution of killing you.” He gripped the hilt of his sword. The cat’s hair stood on end, and she bared her claws, ready to pounce.

  “No!” I flew forwards, laying my hands over his bracer to prevent him from drawing. He instantly ceased all movement, as if my touch shocked him. “Stop, please!” His shoulders relaxed at my desperate plea. “They were not following me. You gave your word not to kill me if I came on this walk with you.”

  “My word can be shot to hell if I need to protect my interests.” He jerked his arm free and took a step back.

  Addled by the mention of the Onyx Guard, I simply stared at him, holding my breath. Darric turned and kept walking, the muscles in his back going rigid.

  Then everything detonated.

  Lightning streaked across my brain, and all the pieces connected.

  Years ago, Darric brou
ght his family to these mountains to live in secrecy. He was restless and killed anyone who came near his home. Except me.

  My lungs broke free of the ice. I inhaled a colossal breath and gathered every ounce of courage left in me. “You’re a Fae!” The words fell like loose rocks on a ledge.

  Darric halted so rapidly his boots dug into the ground, making little piles of dirt. His entire body went stiff, and his brows turned down in a scowl. He grabbed my arm and hauled me with him at an expedited pace. I struggled to keep up, stumbling, my ankles rolling over every rock and dip.

  He dragged me to the edge of the valley, where the mountain cliffs touched soft grass, and tucked us behind a flowering spirea shrub growing against the rock. I dug in my heels and tore my arm from his grasp, but he snatched my shoulder and spun me around, slamming my back on the stone and pinning me to the granite. My head whirled from the onslaught of strength that rushed through him. I shoved his chest, but I may as well have been pushing on an oak tree. He didn’t wobble. He didn’t budge. My wrists buckled, sending painful shocks up my arms. I could do as much damage to him as an ant could do to a bear. Where was the cat? Why wasn’t she helping me? Swat at him! Claw at him! Do something!

  “Have you completely lost your fucking mind?” he growled, so close to my face that his breath bounced off my nose.

  “You’re like me!” I yelled, done being intimidated, especially if he was going to continue to treat me like a rag doll.

  “Lower your voice.” He tightened his grip. My pulse throbbed in my elbow and down into my sore wrists, and my fingers began to tingle from the lack of blood circulation.

  “No!” I said, determined. “You have the symptoms of a Dreamer!”

  He slammed his fist on the stone, trying to scare me into submission. Dirt fell from the ledge above us. “Did you draw that abhorrent conclusion from some story you heard from my brothers?”

  “Please . . .” My voice shook as my resolve wavered. “I just need to know. I need to know I’m not alone. I need to know there is a chance for my survival.”

  He loosened his grip and let out a deep breath, his eyes softening. Clenching his hands into fists, he leaned his head against the rock and closed his eyes. “You can’t say things like that. It’s suicide to say it out loud. You can’t trust anyone.”

  Too petrified to move, I stayed glued to the granite. “I know what it means. I know the consequences.” The cat reappeared, brushing against my leg. I jostled her away, perturbed that she had done nothing to stop him from slamming me into the cliff base. “I’m a Fae,” I whispered. Hearing myself say it aloud for the first time caused bile to rise in my throat.

  “Please, stop saying it.” He opened his eyes and looked at me. “I know.”

  “How? You keep forcing me into silence about the bandit cave, and you’re clearly lying to your brothers.”

  He rubbed his hands over his face. “Because I’ve been trying to figure out what to do with your ass ever since you woke up in my room,” he snapped, momentarily losing control. “You weren’t supposed to live . . . We are in a secluded location, but if the Onyx Guard is trailing you, they will find this valley.”

  Defeated, I laid my forehead on the stone. “So, you live hidden to prevent the inevitable. They would imprison you and kill your brothers.”

  He bristled. “Yes, but not for the reason you think. I’m not a Fae, Aya. I’m a deserter. I tired of the brutality involved in abducting children while their parents watched in horror. I tired of torturing the families protecting them, the murder, and dragging helpless kids to the senators.” His mouth quivered in disgust. “If you have a conscience, you can only stand so much before you break.”

  I swear my heart stopped beating. “You’re a . . .” dark assassin. I backed away, preparing to flee for my life and run faster than I’d ever dared attempt.

  “Was,” he corrected, following me like a predator.

  “No!” I yelped, leaping out of his reach. I dug my nails into my scalp. “You can’t be!” I tripped over the shrub branches and landed hard on the ground. I was going to be sick.

  Darric was a Sight—a dark assassin of the Onyx Guard, a man born with the talent to identify Dreamers. He would destroy everything. It was done. It was over. I was going to Medial Alexandria.

  He knelt in front of me, taking my chin in his hand and cranking my head back so I was forced to look at him. “I knew the instant I saw you what you are. Insane, as some call it. But I’ve never seen a free Fae as old as you are, and poisoned or not, it would have been wrong to leave you to die. Though the more I’ve thought about it, the more I’ve realized what a stupid mistake I made bringing you to the Hovel.”

  “You’re going to turn me over to the Senate, aren’t you?” I went brittle, and a tear rolled down my cheek.

  “No.” He let me go, sinking down next to me and tucking himself into the small space behind the brush. “I have no intention of taking you to Medial Alexandria. They would murder me faster than they would imprison you.”

  I smeared the tear over my face. “Why?”

  “Once you are in the Onyx Guard, you’re in it for life.” He tugged at the white bandage wrapped around his forearm, redistributing the linen over his skin. “It’s death to soldiers who abandon their post, and for me life was a very long time.”

  “You deserted?”

  “Yes, and desertion is hardly the lifelong allegiance I swore an oath to.”

  “Idiotic of me to believe you were a Fae.” I shuddered. A balmy wind blew through the valley, significantly warmer than any spring breeze, and it tangled hair over my face. The warmth helped coax me out of my numb, terror-stricken cocoon, and I tucked a curl behind my ear. “Bromly and Flint said you travel frequently. I should have suspected you made it to Medial Alexandria.”

  “I was desperate to find income. If the Senate figures out you can identify the Fae, a Sight”—he grimaced at the word—“they will make a coin offer that is difficult to refuse. The money is astronomical. It would be a wealthy living, if they ever let you leave after you swear dedication. Once you swear the oath, they own you, body and mind. I was recruited at twelve. I used to sneak back to the Keenes as often as possible to bring them money.”

  I clumsily pulled at several blades of grass. “That’s young.”

  “Most of Medial Alexandria’s soldiers are adolescents. The younger their recruits, the easier they are to influence—to brainwash into believing what they are doing isn’t kidnapping and murder, that the law is on their side. But law isn’t always what is right. It’s just what is popular or convenient for the time. I’ve done what I can to protect my brothers from my past. That doesn’t mean I enjoy getting my hands dirty. I just have the Onyx Guard to thank for my ease in it.”

  When I was ten, a wellborn merchant who supplied trade goods from Duval to Brisleia lost everything to Medial Alexandria. He sought an audience with the King and begged my father for justice after the Onyx Guard abducted his daughter and killed his wife and son. King Hugo sided with the Senate and had the merchant executed for harboring a Fae.

  I fell onto both sides of a rarity in a world where everything I was made of meant a death sentence outside of Alamantia Palace.

  I touched my temple and traced my fingers over the place where the Mandala should have graced my skin. A Fae couldn’t hide from Darric Ursygh, but there was no possibility I would reveal my Divinity.

  Another dry, hot draft ruffled my hair, similar to the heat coming off coals. “It’s getting warm. I’ve always loved spring in Brisleia,” I mumbled, moving my hair off my neck to allow my skin to breathe.

  He chuckled at the change in subject. “That breeze isn’t caused by the season.” He glanced up the rock face. “We are at the easternmost part of the valley right now. Can’t you hear it?”

  In truth, I had been so disturbed by the news that Darric was a former dark assassin of the Onyx Guard that I hadn’t looked around me. The temperature in this part of the valley was torrid, a
nd waves of heat warped the air. My chemise stuck to my legs, and a low rumble lingered on the wind. “What is that?”

  “The Riving. This valley sits parallel to it.” He stretched his legs so his shoes hit the spirea shrub. “I’m . . . addicted, in a way, to being near it. And I’m a little partial to the heat.”

  “I’ve never lived anywhere except Brisleia. All I know is the cold.”

  “I thought somehow you escaped from Medial Alexandria.” He gave me a pleasant smile, lessening the shock of his former employment.

  “I’ve never been there,” I confessed, cringing internally at my suffocating upbringing. “I’ve never been anywhere.”

  “That’s a shame. Most of Athera is beautiful.” He tilted his head towards me. “I’d prefer not to go back to the Senate headquarters any time in the foreseeable future, but”—he glanced up at the cliffs a second time—“I can show you the Riving.”

  “You can see it from here?”

  “We are practically sitting on it.” This time when he extended his hand, I accepted. Let him deny it later. I wasn’t intoxicated, no matter how much wine he had offered me.

  I followed him up a steep stone pathway that cut through the cliffs. Moss grew on the rocks, making them difficult to grip. Eventually we reached the beginning of a vertical climb, which led one hundred feet above us to an oddly steaming ledge.

  I stepped back, intimidated. “I’ve changed my mind.”

  Darric laughed, hopping onto the first rocks, and pulled me up beside him. I cautiously gripped the stones. Once I was secure, he released me and climbed higher until I stared at his boots. Again, he reached down and took my hand to help me up.

  The climb was slippery and tedious. Darric didn’t let me out of his careful grasp for more than a moment, switching between tugging my arms and pushing my lower back. When I looked down, we were high above the trees. The fall would cause serious injury. Even the cat took extra precaution as she sprung from one rock to the next.

  Darric excelled at climbing. He looked down repeatedly to gauge distance, and the increasing altitude seemed to exhilarate him.

 

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