She reached the others in less time than she thought it would take. They’d moved on up the road, narrowing the distance between themselves and the cave.
She could have kissed them. Or Alphonse, at least.
It might mean the difference between reaching safety in time and not.
The warrior landed with a thud in front of the now-swaddled Alphonse. “You kept going,” she said. “Good idea. I’ve found a cave, but we need to move quickly.”
⥣ ⥣ ⥣
* * *
Etienne had long since followed Alphonse’s example. He was wrapped from head to toe in every scrap of clothing he owned, and his bedding was wrapped around his shoulders. Still, he shivered. It was a small consolation that the others faced the same horrible cold. Even Delyth shivered where she worked to set up her and Alphonse’s tent.
The protection spell he had labored over to seal the entrance of the cave wasn’t helping much either, for all that it kept the worst of the snow and wind from swamping them. For shelter, it wasn’t much, but the rock floor was dry, and there was room enough to pitch all three tents around a small fire, some crack in the rock above keeping the space free of smoke.
He was just turning away from his spell when Alphonse found him, her shoulders tense and her hands buried in the folds of her coat.
“I’m sorry, Etienne,” she mumbled. “I didn’t mean to… dismiss your suggestion.”
Etienne listened tensely, his face sullen. “Dismiss my suggestion?” he asked, incredulous. “You didn’t even entertain it.”
Enyo targeted him. Tristan picked at him. Delyth obviously considered herself a better protector to Alphonse.
Was his best friend now going to disregard him as well?
“It's like you don’t even need me here anymore.” He kept his voice soft for fear of Tristan overhearing them, but his words were no less sharp.
Alphonse took a step back from Etienne as if he had physically repulsed her. The shock and hurt on her face were evident, and she looked around hastily to make sure no one else could see the rebuff. “Of course, I need you. You’re my best friend and… and the only one who wants what I want.”
Etienne stepped back, his face hard. “Do you even know what you want anymore, Alphonse? Because it looks to me like you’ve forgotten why we’re here.”
He looked towards Delyth and the care she took while arranging the sleeping quarters she would share with Alphonse later. It hadn’t been difficult to see how close the two had grown over the last few weeks. Was she so enthralled with her new friendship that she had forgotten that they were trying to bind the Goddess? That both Tristan and Delyth would stand in their way?
He should have never told Delyth how to repair her relationship with Alphonse.
“Besides,” he said, still whispering viciously. “I’m not really your best friend anymore, am I? You’re closer to someone else now. Someone who you’ll have to betray in the end.”
❀
What little color remained in Alphonse's face drained. Because Etienne was right. She had allowed Delyth to become a friend. More than a friend. Even knowing that Delyth served Enyo, that in the end, Enyo would retain Delyth’s loyalty. That banishing Enyo from Alphonse’s body would ultimately break the sacred trust between her and the priestess.
Ashen and feeling like she might weep, the healer tried to find the steel in her core that Enyo always wielded. Surely if she could be so strong, so too could Alphonse be a force of nature?
“You don’t know what it’s like! You don’t understand what I’m going through. I’m dying. Dying Etienne. Every day I feel my body becoming weaker. Every day I succumb to her all the faster. She is weedling me down into nothing more than kindling for the fires of her desire and—” Alphonse tripped over her tongue, trying to find the right words to explain. To make him understand. “For once in my life, I wanted to be… special. To someone.”
But to let Delyth remain unaware of their true purpose…
To lie.
To be dishonest.
Alphonse’s face was starting to crumple. He was right.
Etienne just considered her silently for a moment before shaking his head. He didn’t bother to answer her. Just stalked off to set up his tent.
Alphonse debated following her friend, but after a moment's indecision, she let him go. What would she say? That she regretted getting so close with Delyth? That she hadn’t allowed herself to become distracted from their goals?
Those would just be more lies. And she was tired of lying.
Hastily, with her back turned to Delyth and Tristan, she wiped at her cheeks and eyes and sniffed.
Straightening up, she turned to help Tristan with the small fire he had managed to get going. She knew if Delyth looked too closely at her now, she’d know something was wrong, and Alphonse wouldn’t be able to explain it. Let the priestess think Alphonse’s eyes were watering from the smoke of the campfire as she hastened to put together something warm and filling.
By the time Alphonse had dinner simmering contentedly on the fire, the tents were set up around her. It wasn’t but a short while longer before it was finished, and they were filling their bowls.
Delyth sat beside Alphonse, as was her habit, and draped a wing around the smaller woman for warmth. The others were busy filling their bowls when Delyth turned to her, brows drawn together in concern.
“You are quiet, aderyn bak dewr,” she said. “What’s wrong?”
Alphonse’s lips trembled and wobbled the moment Delyth turned her concerned gaze upon the healer. She felt like her innards were about to turn into a puddle.
“Etienne isn’t… happy with me.” She shifted her hand to brush against Delyth’s, hidden in the shadows of their bodies. It was safe enough for that contact. “Please don’t say anything to him. He is like my brother. Sometimes we fight.”
That was nearly a lie. In their entire friendship, she and Etienne had only truly fought three times, if that. Still, it wouldn’t do for Delyth to try and defend Alphonse or talk to Etienne and learn the nature of their disagreement.
Swallowing her remorse, Alphonse squeezed Delyth’s hand and then turned her attention to her other travel companions. Both looked worn, cranky, and about ready to start another fight.
Given the limited space and Etienne’s helpful spell that effectively sealed them in, a fight could be quite caustic in here. Alphonse hurried to think of a distraction.
“Who knows a good tale to share while we wait out the storm?”
༄
Delyth tightened the wing around Alphonse in comfort. For all Alphonse said about her and Etienne fighting occasionally, Delyth did not think it could be so simple. They had been traveling for moons now under tense conditions and never once had a sharp word passed between the two. Besides, Alphonse looked more upset than her words gave credit for.
Still, Delyth would not speak to Etienne about it. It was clear that Alphonse did not want her to, and it would be foolish to stick her nose into something she did not understand. Besides, she would rather hear about it from her little bird than from Etienne.
Delyth resolved to ask Alphonse about it again later that evening, in the privacy of their little tent. For now, she turned her attention to the conversation at hand.
“Something to pass the time is a good idea,” she said. “I have known mountain blizzards to take days to blow themselves out.”
Etienne paled at this, but Tristan only smiled crookedly. “How about we make it a competition? Winner doesn’t dig the latrine pit for a week.”
Of course, he would see it as an opportunity to get out of work. Delyth nearly rolled her eyes.
Alphonse swallowed but nodded. “Very well. But Delyth decides whose story is best. She isn’t spiteful nor easily impressed.” Alphonse smiled at Delyth, and something in the priestess’s belly warmed at the compliment. “Since the competition was your idea, Tristan, perhaps you should go first?”
Chapter XIX
Seventh
Moon, Waxing Gibbous: Thloegr
“Once, in a town called Trefdwr, I won a game of Liar’s Dice,” Tristan started, his sonorous voice rolling like a storyteller’s. “That in itself was hardly a noteworthy occasion, but this time the man who came closest to winning was a crafty old adventurer who promised to give me a treasure map in exchange for half of the winnings I had made off the game. It was too good an opportunity to pass up for so little, but the old man seemed both surprised I had taken the offer and reluctant to make good on it.
“In the end, he did give me the treasure map along with the story of how he had come close to the treasure himself only to be turned back by the ferocity of the two sisters that guarded it, taking turns sleeping so that their hoard was always under careful watch.
“Having never been dissuaded by the tenacity of a beautiful woman, I made preparations to leave immediately. It took moons of hard, cold travel far worse than that we’ve faced, for there are no roads or valleys that cut directly across the Brig’ian Mountains. The treasure, you see, lay in a cave on the western side of these very peaks.”
Tristan paused a moment to take a swig from his waterskin, pleased to find the eyes of his companions focused upon him.
“In time, I found the cave, for the man’s map was a good one, though I quickly found that he had not given me the entire truth. As I approached the cave, it soon became clear that it would be no beautiful woman standing between me and the treasure but a scaled monster of tremendous size. The two ‘sisters’ guarding the cave were none other than the dragons Ral’draig, Bringer of the Dawn, and Llu’draig, Keeper of Dusk.
“Still, I had come too far to be so easily turned away. Surely I could do better than the old man. So for three days and three nights, I hid and watched the cave.
“As it turned out, the old man had not been entirely untruthful. Only one dragon could be awake at a time; like clockwork, they were, with one pair of great, shining eyes clicking shut at the exact moment the other’s opened. Ral’draig spent her days sunning herself at the cave entrance, content to jealously guard the hoard, and for the first day, I became increasingly uncertain of my chances.
“That night, however, Llu’draig lifted immediately from the ground, her great, black wings pointed straight to the sky. It seemed as though she could not bear to be earth-bound any longer than she had to.
“By the fourth day, I was certain of the dragon’s habits, so I waited, hidden near the mouth of the cave, for dusk. When Llu’draig left with the crack of great leather sails, I slipped in to fill my pack with gold.
“Gods, you would not believe the treasure I had to choose from! The cave floor was littered with gem-encrusted crowns and bangles, weapons of the finest make, and coins of every mint ever stamped. I had to take great care of how I stepped so as not to disturb the beast sleeping in the center.
“For hours it seemed I worked near the entrance, carefully choosing pieces to take with me: a diadem, a dagger, a pair of golden dice… The moon was high in the night sky, when, at last, my trembling fingers slipped, and I sent a goblet of rubies cascading across the floor.”
Silence hung in the air around Tristan, and he grinned rakishly at the others’ interest, their eyes wide to a one. Alphonse had scooted closer to the mongrel, her mouth still open in a silent gasp. Even Etienne could not tear his gaze away.
“In the center of the cave, Ral’draig growled in her sleep. Her great head turned in my direction, gold coins clinking off the steel of her pale scales, her talons screeching against the rock of the cave. She could not wake completely, could not open her eyes because her sister still flew high and away from the cave, but even in this state, she was still fearsome.
“I am not ashamed to say that I turned and ran, my arms filled with the heavy weight of my gold-brimmed bag. Ral’draig could not bear to let me away unscathed, however. She opened her great maw and roared a tongue of flame that singed the entire length of my back.
“Still, I did not slow until I was miles away from the cave. My journey back was harder and more painful than the journey across the mountains, but my heart was far lighter. I had met the twin keepers of the sky and left not only alive but also richer.”
Tristan finished with a flourish and a half-bow from where he sat, his cocky grin already in place. He was thoroughly proud of himself.
“Amazing!” Alphonse croaked, clapping her hands together enthusiastically until she realized that Etienne and Delyth weren’t. She blushed and folded her hands in her lap, sheepishly.
“I think you missed your calling, Tristan. You are an adept word weaver. I felt as if I were there with you.” Alphonse smiled and looked up at Delyth for confirmation.
༄
Delyth looked down into Alphonse’s beaming face and something within her melted. It was easy to nod in agreement, especially as the warrior had enjoyed the story. It wasn’t so different from the ones she’d heard at the temple as a child.
Ral’draig and Llu’draig had always been her favorites. They were strong and wild and female and unapologetically exactly as they were. As a little girl, Delyth had imagined that she had dragon wings, that she was not so different from the great creatures herself.
It was pleasant to hear their stories again.
“Yes, it was a fine tale,” she said. Still, she doubted it was a true one. The dragon twins were creatures of fable, just stories to keep children from wandering off. Etienne seemed to agree with her.
“Let’s see your scars, then,” he said, his tone argumentative. “If you were really burned by dragonfire, there’d have to be some mark.”
Tristan stood, shrugging off his furs and then his shirt until he was bare-chested in front of them. He turned with a flourish, exposing a back that was indeed marred by shiny burn scars. Delyth raised an eyebrow, impressed. Whatever had done that had indeed been fearsome.
Alphonse looked eagerly at Tristan’s scars, not lecherously or in the bloodthirsty manner that Enyo would likely employ, but rather with an expert eye. “His back certainly was burned by something incredibly hot. Most man-made fires can’t burn someone that deep, that quickly…” She gasped. “Your story was true?!”
“Of course it was true,” Tristan said, pulling on his coverings with unusual haste. It was still dreadfully cold.
Alphonse looked to Etienne, excitement clearly writ across her face. She seemed to Delyth as though she hoped to share that excitement with him, hoped to discuss dragons and treasure hoards. But Etienne’s expression cut her off before she even began to speak.
“You could have gotten those anywhere,” he scoffed, scowling darkly, and Alphonse hastily looked away.
Delyth wasn’t sure if she believed Tristan or not, but she had seen Alphonse’s disappointment at Etienne’s reaction, and when the priestess looked down to find Alphonse gazing up at her, she found that she couldn’t voice her disbelief. Instead, Delyth turned to Tristan with a question. “What did you do with all the gold?”
Tristan snorted. “What else do you do with gold? I spent it.” He leaned back against his hands, gazing off towards the far wall of the cave as though remembering something extraordinary. “That loot kept me in wine and women for years.”
“Even the dice?” Alphonse asked.
Tristan looked sharply at Alphonse at the mention of the dice, though it was gone quickly, replaced with a cocky, teasing smile. Had Delyth imagined it?
The rogue laughed. “Of course I sold the dice, silly mouse. What self-respecting gambler would walk into a seedy joint with loot like that on display? It’d be like begging for a mugging. Besides, you need five dice to play Liar’s Dice, and there were only two.”
Glancing at the cave mouth, which had chunks of snow and ice dashing past at breakneck speeds, Alphonse yawned. “Well. I think I would have kept the dice. Or maybe the diadem. Something to prove I was there besides burns on my back.”
“You’d have looked pretty in a diadem,” Delyth said, and Etienne stood abruptly, disapproval clear acro
ss his features.
“I’m going to sleep. Don’t wake me if the storm hasn’t cleared in the morning.”
Alphonse winced and looked away from Etienne, prompting a surge of frustration in Delyth’s chest. There was nothing she could do to mend the rift between them.
“Goodnight,” Alphonse whispered, though the halfbreed doubted Etienne heard it as he stomped off towards his tent, then she rose to retire as well.
Delyth stretched, her wings taking up their full span to either side of her. She was tired from the hard flight and the trek through the blizzard. Not to mention, more than a little eager for a few moments alone with Alphonse in the privacy of their tent.
She paused just long enough to mark the flap with her customary ward before stepping inside, only to find Alphonse sniffling with her back to the door. Her chest clenching, Delyth ducked forward and wrapped her arms around the smaller woman from behind, laying her pale cheek against the top of Alphonse’s head. “Will you tell me what is going on now, bykhan?”
Alphonse scrambled around to clutch at Delyth’s shoulders, her grip surprisingly strong, practically hauling the larger woman down to her.
The healer’s voice was muffled as she spoke, clinging to Delyth.“He thinks I am replacing him as a friend and… and that it is unwise for me to grow so attached to you… Because it cannot end well.”
So the boy is jealous.
Delyth wasn’t all that surprised, though she was sorry that was how her closeness with Alphonse made him feel. She supposed it couldn’t be helped. She had, after all, been a newcomer just a couple moons ago, and it sounded like he was afraid of losing the friendship he’d shared with Alphonse for so long.
She sighed and held Alphonse tighter. Etienne’s jealousy might be unfortunate, but it was the other part that the priestess found really worrying.
“Do you think that this won’t end well?” Delyth’s voice was unusually small and vulnerable.
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