I shuddered. Darric pressed his arm to my back to shelter my small frame against his chest. An increased presence of protection flooded the connection I shared with the bear as he read Darric’s thoughts and transferred them to me. My insolent instructor would die for me. Live for me. Protect me until the very last shattered beat of his turbulent heart. From the first instant he had laid eyes on me cowering in a bandit cave, it had never been any other way.
I furrowed my brows, wholly bewildered, and stared into the side of Darric’s distressed face. I searched the swirls of his complicated mind, desperate to pry deeper, but hit a moral wall. It was wrong to invade his heart without his knowledge or permission. Despite him telling me of his dedication to keeping me safe, feeling the powerful impulses of emotion flowing through him that evoked such a promise was more than I could handle.
“If I may ask you . . .” I concentrated to block Darric’s thoughts and focus on the bear alone. “Please stop transferring him to me. It’s wrong.”
“Aya, what’s going on?” Darric clenched his fists.
“As you wish, Divine Fae.” The bear grumbled, and the overwhelming flood ebbed.
Relieved, I inhaled to capacity to clear my head. “I swear I’ll explain, Darric.”
“You have healed well.” The bear eyed my hand digging into my protector’s shirt. The gash had long since transformed into a pink scar across my palm.
“As have you.” I bowed my head respectfully. “I gave you my word that I would try, not that I would succeed.”
“I hold no ill will towards you. I did not seek you out to bring harm to you, nor your mate. I have heard the songs of the birds and the tick of the beetles. They speak of your growing power. It seems the sword-wielding hunter has proven to be an asset to your abilities. I encourage you to continue to evolve. As it happens, the last of my kin this assailant eliminated opened the opportunity for me to obtain a female. I have your diligence in tending to my injury to thank for this matter.”
The terror riddling my body parted enough to allow a cautioned smile to cross my lips. “I am dedicated to completing my training.”
Satisfied, the bear gave a nod. “There is a complication you should be made aware of, as it may interfere with your progress. Since you have prevented me from allowing you to perceive his mind, I will bestow it upon you.” The bear moved towards us. Darric took a step back, pulling me with him.
“It’s okay,” I soothed, tightening my arms around him. “He’s not going to hurt us.”
“You can’t possibly know that,” Darric said.
“Ayleth, the same consuming plague that exists within you, the sickness that muddles your thoughts and fogs your brain, also resides in him. He thinks of you often and with equal mania. There is a mutual obsession present. The term for such human stupidity is foreign to me.”
My heart did a backflip. I closed my eyes and spoke the next words inside my head. “That’s why you keep calling him my mate, isn’t it?”
“Indeed, Divine Fae. For that is precisely what he is.”
My smiled widened, and heat rushed into my cheeks.
The bear shook his head in disapproval. “Take caution. You do not comprehend how enigmatic you are. It would be a shame for you to become dormant after falling from such affectivity. As it is, I shall join Darric Ursygh in your protection. As long as I am alive and you are a resident of this valley, you will not have my kind to fear.”
I slammed an astonished hand over my mouth. Darric responded by jerking me back into his chest and laying a firm grip on the hilt of his sword.
“Don’t!” I reiterated, clutching his wrist. “I am talking to him. This is the bear I hit with the arrow.”
“That’s how you survived the night you went to him?” he verified, aghast.
“Yes,” I admitted. “There’s a lot I need to tell you.”
“Do not inform him of your Divinity,” the bear interrupted.
“Why?” I snapped.
“Because you cannot exist in his world as a Divine, Princess. The two parts of who you are cannot be combined. They are fire and water. Flying and falling. Living and dead. Be mindful, as the Divine blood will not succumb easily. You will have to make a choice, Ayleth, for Darric has already made his.”
My lips parted, ready to bombard the bear with one thousand questions, but he turned towards the exit.
“You may be as you were before my intrusion.”
Darric and I held each other like statues, watching the immense beast saunter through the crag. Despite his limp, he vanished nimbly into the darkness.
The instant he faded from sight, Darric jerked out of my embrace. “You can talk to animals?” he fumed.
I stumbled backwards, tripped over my sword, and landed on the ground. “I know I owe you an explanation.”
“Contract violations, Aya! No ability held back!” He paced, rubbing his hands over his scorned face.
“I never intended to hide it.” My bottom lip quivered. “A part of me was afraid you would stop my lessons if you knew too much too soon.”
He ceased his pacing, and the dark made it difficult to read his expression. “You truly believe that? Knowing how infatuated I am with you?” He bitterly shook his head, untying his cloak to slip the wool around my shoulders. I only noticed my shivering when the heat of two cloaks warmed my skin.
“Infatuated?” I repeated, stunned.
“You don’t swear to give your life for someone you deem mediocre,” he mused thickly.
I tightened myself into a ball. “I’m sorry I hid it.”
He eased onto the ground beside me. “So you aren’t just talking to your cat for entertainment?”
“The cat . . . Sage, whatever she is, is annoying.” Where is she? I scanned the trees and located an eerie pair of amber eyes peering through the black foliage. “I don’t know why I bother speaking to her. She doesn’t talk back at all.”
He followed my gaze to the same exotic eyes that never truly left my side.
“Untamed communication, the ability to talk to animals, scares me more than any Fae power,” I expressed. “To hear them, I have to expose myself completely. Open my brain to anything they are willing to transfer to me. Their thoughts aren’t human, and it’s not exclusively verbal information. The transmissions include their emotions, sometimes pain, even their readings of other animals. Most of the time it’s so difficult to decipher a clear path through everything they expel that it gives me a headache.”
The guilt of my contract violation led me to hold nothing back. I told him everything. Leaving out the details of Alamantia, I confessed I stole a horse, only to lose the beast when I scared him senseless upon discovering I could understand him.
Darric listened silently to my story of the bear hunt gone awry—how I’d tried to open my heart to the female he had killed, but I couldn’t deter the attack. He ran a hand through his hair and let out a weighted breath. “Can you hear them all the time?”
“No, only when I’m close. Most animals won’t talk to me. They keep their distance and aren’t capable of complex communication, but I can still sense their feelings. Speaking with animals who possess an intelligent mind comes with a price. It leaves me sore. There is something forbidden about it, like talking to them bends the laws of nature, so I suffer internally for it. There is only one consistency I have found—they all know I’m a Fae. The bear chose to spare my life because of it.”
“I never would have left you alone at the Hovel had I known he was a threat. Despite all my caution, your life was still in danger.”
I rubbed my thumb into the gruesome scar on my palm. The skin was puckered and pink, complete with six raised dots where Darric had sewn the flesh back together. “It was something to remember him by. He wanted me to understand my actions. That I had been reckless, and a Fae should have known better. I pulled the arrow from his leg and dressed the wound, then he gave me this.”
Darric eyed the scar before shrouding my hand with his.
Darric groaned, tossing my hand into my lap. “I knew you’d gone after him, but hearing you admit it feels sickening.”
I tucked my legs into my chest and wrapped my arms around my knees. “There’s something else you should know.”
His shoulders stiffened.
“Untamed communication is one of your mimic Fae abilities, though it’s profoundly one sided. The animals can hear you. You let them into your head all the time. Atlas told me he tried to talk to you in the past, but you never answered. He peers inside your head and has a deep working knowledge of your heart. I didn’t want to believe what he told me about you . . . until tonight, when the bear . . .” My voice trailed away.
He took a long moment to respond. I waited patiently as he absorbed the information. “Atlas is the bear?”
“Oh, no. Atlas is a horse. A white one. He told me he was a friend of yours—”
“You’ve talked to that white stallion?” Darric interrupted, agitated, and shifted onto his knees.
I nodded apprehensively.
He covered his face, muffling a worried string of profanity.
I clasped his wrist, trying to uncover him. “He refused to share an open connection with me. He said your secrets were not his to tell.”
Darric shrugged me away and got to his feet. “But you did share this open connection with the bear.”
“Yes,” I confessed.
“I’m not an idiot, Aya. I can follow a conversation. Even a one-sided one. ‘Stop transferring him to me. It’s wrong.’ What did that mean? What was he telling you about me?” he asked, guarded.
I gulped. “I don’t want to tell you.”
“Don’t make me use the ambiguity,” he demanded.
I narrowed my eyes. “If you’re going to threaten me with that stupid part of our contract, then why shouldn’t I make you use it?”
“Not for this,” he pleaded.
I tightened my hands into tiny fists. “Darric, you were clinging to me like a vise. I could barely discern anything through your overwhelming cloud of protection. It’s blinding. As controlled as you are on the outside, every emotion you project has enough strength to move mountains. An open connection means any feelings you expelled were directly transferred to him, so he flooded me with your mind. I asked him to stop out of respect. As much as I wanted it, I couldn’t dig through your brain.”
“Protection? That’s it?” He dropped to his knees and gripped my leg, desperate for more information. “Nothing else?”
“For the rest, I will make you use the ambiguity,” I said, reaching my limit.
Irate, he shoved off me.
I grappled with the breaking of my heart. “It doesn’t matter. He’s a bear. He doesn’t understand human emotion.”
Darric’s entire face hardened. “If it was an open connection and you felt everything flowing through me, why would you not trust it? You’ve been with me every day for weeks. How could you doubt anything you felt from me?”
My stomach lurched as I realized Darric was painfully aware of everything he had been thinking in the bear’s presence. “Because if it’s true, then I need to hear it from you.” I dropped his cloak and tightened my own. I was leaving this forest whether he decided to continue instructing me or not.
With the wisteria forest behind me, the world seemed lighter, and the landscape welcomed the sun. Darric followed. I knew the distinct sound of his footsteps.
Flint sat alone by the cavern fire. He smiled weakly and plucked a massive collection of morning glory off the log, needing both hands to keep the large bundle together. He cast a dismissing glare at his brother.
Darric nodded at him. “I’ll leave you two alone,” he said and went into the Hovel.
Flint wasted no time explaining himself. “These flowers only bloom in the mornin’. I wanted to make sure ya got some an’—”
Ignoring his words, I crossed the seating area and threw my arms around his neck. “I never should have hit you. I’d blame it on being around Darric all the time, but really, I did lose my temper. I’m embarrassed by the way I acted. Forgive me.”
He dropped the flowers and tugged me into his chest. He felt lanky in my arms—bones covered by sparse muscle and clothes smelling of animal hides and Bromly’s cooking.
I pushed away, shyly tucking loose curls behind my ears. “I’m sorry, that was inappropriate. I had a rough night.”
“It wasn’t inappropriate,” he said, excited. “It was wonderful.”
“My head isn’t in the right place.”
“Well, it should be in the wrong place more often.” He smiled wide, squeezing my shoulders. “I wanted to say I was sorry too. I shouldn’t’ve accused ya of bein’ involved with Darric.”
I shook my head. “No, you’re right. I know how it looks.” I made a fist and lightly pounded it against his chest.
He winced from the playful impact. “You’re stronger than ya seem.”
I returned a smile. His emerald eyes practically glowed. “Darric has taught me well. Wait until you see me fight. The next time we’re attacked by bandits, I plan to show all of you how an assassination is supposed to look.”
He laughed nervously, taking me more seriously than I expected. “Aside from the flowers, I wanted to ask ya somethin’ ’bout your newly found skills. I was wonderin’ if you’ll teach me to fight? Since Darric won’t.”
I took my hands from his chest and folded my arms over my belly. “I can’t.”
His face fell. “Why not?”
“It’s nothing personal. I don’t know how to teach. I don’t even know how I learned. I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
Disappointed, he sank onto the log.
“In two months, I’ve somehow managed to learn skills that took Darric a lifetime to master. I’m not exactly normal, and I know I’d end up getting you seriously hurt. Or killed.”
“I thought I might’ve finally found someone willin’ to teach me a sword.”
“My own training is hardly complete. I’m in no position to take on a student,” I explained.
He shook morning glory blooms from his hairy foot and plucked a blossom from its stem, carelessly tossing it to the side.
I sat down in front of him and gathered several flowers into my hands. “They’re beautiful. It must have taken you a while to gather this many.”
“I didn’t think ya were gonna accept my sorry. I thought I’d hav’ta grovel.”
I twirled a morning glory between my fingers, watching the petals spin into a violet blur. “What reason would I have not to accept?” I pushed the bloom towards his pointed nose. He breathed in, and his nostrils sucked in the petals. “Especially when presented with such a lovely gift.”
It was noon. No shadows. The July heat bore down on me, preventing Ambrosia’s dress from remaining comfortable. Maybe I could obtain some fabric in Burge to make myself a summer dress. It would be sewn poorly; I wished I had spent more time perfecting my needlework. Divine and Atheran history, musical studies, and dancing seemed so worthless now.
“Stop daydreaming.” Darric lowered the blindfold over my eyes and tied it tightly behind my head. “Count backwards from twenty. When you remove the blindfold, I am no longer your teacher—I am your enemy. Do not draw your sword until you are ready to engage. Use any and all techniques you have learned to become the victor. This is a real battle. There are no rules.”
Air brushed my neck as he moved away, and the woods fell silent.
Darric was gone.
I breathed in deeply and gathered my thoughts. He was a dangerous foe and promised a daunting fight, but as we had discovered over the last week, I was a formidable adversary. Something he knew had been inside me all along.
Breathe. Twenty.
The
purpose of the exercise: a hidden assailant, coming from an unknown direction. He would be watching. Waiting to ambush. Be prepared to counterattack. Expecting impending doom did not make it any less nerve-racking.
Control. Seventeen.
My final week of training had consisted of fighting Darric in sword-to-sword combat. At first, it was arduous to put all my lessons into practice at once. My mind exploded with information, and I died within seconds. I had to watch him in action. Observe his technique. Marvel at the way he moved with a sword.
Concentration and focus. Fifteen.
The more Darric and I engaged, the more I advanced. Each fight I incorporated additional knowledge into my execution. Each time I lived a little longer.
Attention to detail. Twelve.
And every time, he defeated me.
Balance. Ten.
When I finally started to employ all my abilities at once, paying special attention to the ones he lacked, I still could not gain leverage over him. To force me to control my anger, he ridiculed me—viciously taunting that no matter how great a fighter I became, no matter how much I practiced, I would never win against him. As long as we lived, he would forever be the only swordsman alive I would never defeat. I despised him for it.
Physical conditioning. Eight.
We were leaving for Burge in two days. The many furs and baskets of dried meat in the Hovel had disappeared. Wooden boxes of cutlery and intricately carved toy dragons had vanished. The remaining vegetables in the garden were picked, and Bromly’s small cauldron went with them.
Speed and agility. Six.
Candles. Tea bags. Blankets. Pillows. Gone. The extra sets of clothes the three hung in their rooms were packed into personal haversacks. Bromly made me one of my own out of the torn bed sheet he found in Darric’s room. I thanked him, though I had no possessions with which to fill it.
Defense. Three.
The first week of July had brought both the emptiness of the cavern and a striking doom to my mind. Something about leaving for Burge was so final I struggled to stomach it. For the Hovel brothers, traveling was just another part of life. Something they did every year. A chance for Bromly to visit Hazel. An opportunity to socialize and sell their wares. For me, it was worrisome. Burge was a major trade town, and though the Sloan family did not actively partake in court life, I still risked being recognized. Stupidly, that was a risk I was willing to take to stay with Darric, Bromly, and Flint.
Dreams of the Fae: Transcendence Page 39