Everlasting

by W. J. May

  Katerina shook her head curiously. Suddenly very eager to hear the answer to that herself. It certainly wasn’t a likely pairing. A ranger and a fae. There was obvious affection there, buried deep down amidst a complicated history, but half the time she was surprised they hadn’t killed each other years ago. Case in point. A few yards ahead of them, the men were lost to their own argument.

  “The beast,” Dylan scoffed, shaking his head with a grin. “The thing was a puppy.”

  His best friend might be on mile twelve with severe blood loss and a broken rib cage, but that didn’t mean the two weren’t still going blow for blow. Cassiel shot him a side-glare but seemed to expect nothing less. At any rate, he was more than up for the challenge.

  “That just proves you were too drunk to remember what happened. The thing was more like an armored porpoise than anything else. It swam in with the tide.”

  Dylan shrugged dismissively. Enjoying himself far too much to be bothered with things like facts. “Some kind of aquatic puppy, then. The kind with gills.”

  “For bloody sake. Why do I even try with you—”

  “It didn’t help matters that you were wearing a dress.”

  “It wasn’t a dress!” Cassiel threw up his hands in exasperation, ignoring the fresh stain of blood that followed. “For the last time—it was a ceremonial robe! Presented to me by the high chancellor of...why are you smiling?!”

  “I missed you.”

  There was a brief pause, followed by a scathing glare.

  “Screw off, Dylan.”

  Another pause. Then the fae shot him a look.

  “...I missed you, too.”

  The girls shared a look. Thinking the same thing with a mischievous smile.

  Bromance.

  There weren’t many provisions that had made it through the storm. More precisely, the gang had been left with nothing but a coat, a blanket, and a pile of tent pegs to a nonexistent tent. Tanya’s lucky flask had long since been drained, and the fact that they were all walking around with half the usual blood and nothing but whiskey on an empty stomach was starting to catch up with them.

  Katerina skipped lightly ahead and linked her arm through Dylan’s with a playful smile. “So...this wolf thing...”

  Dylan shifted uneasily as Cassiel’s eyes danced with a wicked grin.

  “You mean, his canine problem?”

  There was a beat of silence before Dylan gave his friend a humorless smile. “Cass, why don’t you make sure Tanya’s doing okay.”

  Cassiel started to refuse, but it wasn’t exactly phrased as a question, and the look on Dylan’s face was hard to ignore. Acting as though it was his idea to begin with, the fae swept gracefully back through the snow, leaving Dylan alone with the princess. Looking as nervous as she’d ever seen.

  “My...wolf thing?” His lips twitched up, as though the phrasing amused him, before the smile gave way to nerves. “What about it?”

  Katerina’s mind raced as she wondered where to start.

  Why hadn’t he told her about it from the beginning? If they hadn’t run into trouble, would it still be a secret? What the hell else was he keeping from her and, perhaps, most importantly—

  “What’s it like having claws?”

  Dylan looked down at her in shock. She bit her lip and kept her eyes on the snow. I’ll admit...it wasn’t my BEST question.

  “Claws?” It looked as though he was having a hard time deciding whether to laugh or simply stand there, aghast. “Are you...is that seriously your question?”

  Instead of trying to get out of the hole, Katerina dug herself in further. “Well, I was going to ask what it was like having a tail, but it seemed somehow inappropriate.”

  This time, the laughter won out. A short burst echoed over the sparkling snow, vanishing tensions and lifting the hearts of everyone around him. She wondered if he knew he was able to do that. A second later, he turned to her again—an incredulous sort of wonder dancing in his eyes.

  “How the heck are you a Damaris?”

  The question caught her completely off guard. Just as much as her question had caught him.

  It wasn’t said with any sort of blame or malice. To be perfectly honest, there was a good chance he meant it to be rhetorical. But she felt the need to answer nonetheless. A need to defend the blood running through her veins. The same blood she was secretly coming to despise.

  “Things weren’t always...” She trailed off suddenly, staring out over the snow. “My father did some things he came to regret, but in the end he wasn’t...” Again, she trailed off. Well aware that Dylan’s piercing eyes were following her every move. “What I mean to say is—”

  “I’m not asking you to hate your father,” he said quietly.

  Her eyes widened as she stared up at him in surprise. Her father had committed some of the greatest atrocities the world had ever seen. He’d hunted down the supernatural community to the point of extinction, and that community included Dylan. If there was anyone who deserved all that hatred—it was him. “You’re not?”

  Their eyes met, and a peculiar expression flickered across Dylan’s face. One that settled into a sad, almost nostalgic smile. “He died, Kat. He was your father, and he died. That changes things.”

  It looked like there was more he wanted to say. It looked like the words were on the very tip of his tongue. But a second later, he was pacing through the snow once more.

  “At least, it’s supposed to...”

  IT TOOK ANOTHER THREE hours to reach the peak. Another three hours but, given the state they were in, it felt like a small eternity. By the time they finally got there, even Dylan, who’d been doing his best to lift spirits, had settled into a quiet kind of gloom. Granted, it was a gloom that began shortly after he and Katerina exchanged words about her family.

  “So, this is it?” Tanya shielded her eyes as she gazed out over the rocky cliff, taking in the extraordinary sunset painted across the horizon. “Doesn’t look like much.”

  Cassiel nudged her playfully. “Some people would say the same thing about you.”

  It was true. The fae might look like some old world hero brought back to life, but no one would have expected so much from Tanya. Orphaned shape-shifters didn’t really have much in terms of reputation, and the poor girl was nothing more than a waif.

  But she’d survived an avalanche and trekked across the tundra. All on a broken leg.

  “Well, those people are idiots,” she snapped though, secretly, she looked rather pleased. “I’m a golden god. A champion amongst men. Mere flesh wounds cannot stop me—”

  “That’s good to know.” Dylan came up behind them without cracking a smile. “Because it’s a hard climb. And we’ve got to get going if we’re going to make it down before nightfall.”

  For the first time, Tanya lowered her gaze to look down the cliff. Her bravado faded.

  “Can’t you guys just lower me to the bottom with a rope?”

  Cassiel snorted and walked away, as Dylan’s eyes lightened with that signature sarcasm. “The rope that we don’t have? The rope that got lost with your pack?”

  “Which got lost in a freakin’ avalanche—”

  “I’m not blaming you. I’m saying we don’t have any rope.”

  “Well, you’re a bloomin’ ranger!” she retorted. “Give you a toothpick and a pocket watch, and you’ll build a bloody colosseum! Can’t you figure something out for rope?”

  There was a pause.

  “...you have a highly romanticized version of my profession.”

  Katerina came to stand in between them, peering cautiously over the edge. Sure enough, the cliff dropped down as far as the eye could see. Huge, jagged slabs of rock that clung together with no particular rhyme or reason, vanishing ominously into the mist. A mist that was already creeping up the granite mountain. Higher and higher as the sun began to fall.

  “Dylan’s right. We’ve got to hurry.” She said the words only because she had to. In truth, she had no idea how the h
ell she was going to follow through. “The last thing we want is to get stuck halfway down with no torches when it suddenly gets dark.”

  The others glanced quickly over the side, thought better of it, then began securing their things. There wasn’t much, but whatever they had was strapped firmly into their clothing. Katerina was just tightening the laces of her shoes when Dylan knelt beside her—under the guise of tightening his own. Their eyes met, and he flashed her the hint of a smile.

  “You ever done something like this before?”

  The princess blanched, then stalled for time. Looking deliberately down at her shoes. “Like this? Oh, sure. Loads of times.”

  This was coming from a girl too terrified of heights to jump off the one-story stable roof with the rest of her friends. She’d had to shimmy back across the tiles and take the stairs.

  Dylan pursed his lips and nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground. “Lots of rock-climbing days back at the castle, huh?”

  “Oh yeah.” Katerina paled even whiter, glancing once more into the plummeting abyss. “We earned merit badges and everything—”

  “Don’t do that,” he said suddenly.

  She looked up with a start, to see that he was standing right in front of her, his body angled strategically between herself and the cliff. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t see the terror that waited just beyond. All she could see was that steady smile, those sparkling eyes.

  “Don’t look down. Always look at your hands.” He spoke with the calm assurance of one who had done this kind of thing many times before. “You need to take a climb like this in pieces. One foot at a time. One hand after another. Break it down, and it’ll be over before you know it.”

  She nodded swiftly, trying to project a lot more confidence than she actually felt. “Don’t look down,” she repeated, almost to herself. A torrent of wind whistled past her ears, streaming up over the side of the cliff. “Don’t look down at the deadly, hundred-foot drop.”

  A wave of nausea started churning in her stomach, but before she could begin to properly panic a pair of warm hands closed around her own.

  “The drop won’t be beneath you,” he said simply. “I will.”

  It was a testament to how much faith she had in his abilities that she was able to take some small degree of comfort in the words. But it was marginal at best. Yes, he might be climbing right below her. But didn’t that just mean that she was going to take him down, too?

  “You don’t have to do that,” she said half-heartedly. “Seriously, I should probably be the one to go first. That way, I can’t cause any collateral damage.”

  “Not a chance.” The words were firm, but he said them lightly. “Your safety is the highest priority here. And, at any rate, I fought hard for that spot.”

  Between the wind screeching in her ears, and the butterflies pounding away in her stomach, she was having a hard time keeping up with the conversation. But that last part struck her as a bit odd and she looked up in confusion, staring blankly at his enigmatic face.

  “I don’t understand.” She shook her head, trying to get a cue from his expression. “You fought hard to climb down beneath me?”

  For a split second, there was a crack in the façade. For a split-second, a mischievous grin broke through that unshakable air of calm.

  “It might have something to do with the fact that you’re wearing a dress.”

  Katerina blinked at him. Then blinked down at her dress. By the time it registered, and her mouth fell open with indignant rage, he was already moving away to give the others their instructions, glancing over his shoulder only once to shoot her a secret wink.

  Absolutely shameless.

  The plan was simple. Cassiel was going down first. As damaged as he might be, this sort of thing still came very naturally to him; As Dylan put it, if any of them were to slip they could use him to break the fall. Tanya was going to go next. Taking things as slowly as she needed to since she was only working with three limbs. Dylan was after Tanya, and Katerina would go last.

  In a lot of ways, it was terrifying. I could always just wait until they’re all over the side, then take off running in the opposite direction. Pray to the gods of karma to send me some stairs. But, in a lot more ways, it was oddly comforting as well. They’re all in this with me. We’re all doing it together.

  Cassiel leapt over the side with no warning or preamble. Fractured ribcage or not, the man was born for this sort of adventure. Dylan shouted at him to watch his pace—an ironic warning to go slower than he was accustomed—before Tanya saluted them with a tight grin and vanished as well.

  Just a few seconds later, it was just Dylan and Katerina. Standing together at the top of the cliff.

  This is a bad idea, a really BAD idea. Of all the bad ideas we’ve had so far, this has to be the worst one.

  “Shall we?”

  She looked up from her fatalistic trance to see Dylan offering his hand. The blinding sunset was behind him, and for a second she completely forgot to be afraid.

  It’s a bad idea...but he’ll be with me.

  He flashed her an easy smile, gesturing gallantly to the edge of the cliff. It was a bizarrely chivalrous gesture, one that reminded her suddenly of the many handsome lords who’d helped her in and out of carriages, extending their arms with a charming smile.

  “We shall.”

  Their eyes met for a fleeting moment. For a fleeting moment, time stood still. Then, without a word of warning, he leaned down and surprised her with a kiss. A kiss so sudden and passionate, it took her breath away. She was still recovering when he pulled back a second later.

  He flashed her a smile. Gave her a little wink. Then leapt over the side of the cliff.

  A second after that...she followed.

  WHEN KATERINA LOOKED back later, trying to be as objective as she could, she still had no earthly idea how she’d managed the climb down Redfern Peak. It was worse than anything she could have possibly imagined. A literal nightmare come to life, pushing her to every emotional, physical, and psychological limit. Then it pushed her some more.

  “You’re doing great, Kat. Watch your grip.”

  She might be a princess with no experience in the ways of the world, tragically combined with no upper body strength, but even she was impressed that she hadn’t yet tumbled off the cliff to face her inevitable doom. They’d been going at it for a little over twenty minutes and, according to Dylan, they were more than halfway down.

  The end was almost in sight.

  Of course, he’d been saying that for the last ten minutes. She was beginning to suspect him.

  “Let me guess,” she panted. “We’re almost to the bottom, right? No need to lose hope?”

  She didn’t need to see his face to tell he was smiling. And she didn’t need to see his eyes to spot the obvious lie. “That’s right. Any minute now. Just keep on going. Slow and careful.”

  Thus far, she had stuck to his advice as well as she could. There had only been two times when she’d chanced a peek down into the ravine. The first time, she’d been met with a scathing glare and a twirl of Dylan’s fingers—telling her to turn back around. The second time, she’d seen that his arms were shaking almost as much as her own.

  When she tried a third time, not much had changed.

  She couldn’t see the others anymore. They were too far down in the mist. But she hadn’t heard any screams yet, and she was taking that as a good sign. In fact, the only indication she’d had to know the others were struggling was the faint smear of blood she’d seen on one of the footholds a while back. Whether it was from Cassiel, or Dylan, or Tanya—she didn’t know.

  “So...tell me about life in the castle.”

  She startled in surprise, and almost lost her hold on the rocks. Fortunately, Dylan had been impeccable thus far, pointing out where to put her hands and feet, and she was able to get her grip almost instantaneously. “Excuse me?”

  If he was straining, and by now he had to be, she’d never
have been able to tell from the sound of his voice. It was just as calm as ever. Hardly even out of breath.

  “You know...the balls, the gossip, the epic croquet matches. Tell me about it.”

  The world’s most unlikely smile crept up the side of her face. “You want to know about the castle gossip, do you? Dylan Aires wants the inside scoop?”

  “I’m dying to know.”

  She snorted under her breath. I’ll bet. Dying to distract me is more like it. Still, it was a good strategy and she wracked her brain for something entertaining, trying to play along. “Well...there was the time that Lady Marchel drank too much wine at dinner and face-planted right in the middle of the cheese course. I was just two seats down. It wasn’t pretty.”

  A soft echo of laughter drifted up from the rocks below. “I’ll bet. What else?”

  “Hmm...” She thought about it, forgetting entirely about her shaking arms, and aching fingers, and the deadly drop below. A second later, her face lit up with a happy memory. “A few years ago, at Christmas, Kailas and I decided to play a prank on our new tutor. You see, the man had a terrible fear of spiders, so on the night of the big feast, we snuck into his chambers and...”

  She trailed off. Remembering each moment in excruciating detail. Remembering the exact look of breathless excitement that had lit up her brother’s mischievous face.

  Talking about Kailas was painful. She’d have to avoid doing it in the future.

  “What else?” Dylan was careful not to let the quiet go on too long. As usual, he seemed to have a better read on her thoughts than she did. “What about suitors, marriage proposals—that sort of thing. You’re eighteen years old. You must have had a lot of those.”

  By this point, Katerina was having trouble keeping it all straight. Was he still trying to distract her from the climb? Was he trying to move the conversation away from Kailas? Or was he asking about potential suitors, because the two of them had recently shared a perfect sunset kiss?