by Terina Adams
He grabbed at the strange skin-like material at his thigh and appeared to rip something away. He flung out his arm and blackness flowed from his palm into the air. It spiraled and swirled, then took shape. Leading at the front of the strange black mist was a head, showing a pointed snout and long, jagged teeth. The developing form rippled further along, creating legs and a torso and ending with a barbed tail as it raced through the air and down onto the ground. A ragool.
“Remember where you are.”
I jumped because suddenly Raclin was behind me. He did not touch me but his body was close. The heat ran shivers along my back in all the places where our skin almost touched. My heart thumped my fear. He would not hurt me, not now, not after saving me. Please.
He walked again, determined to get rid of me, and I was glad to go.
I scoured the ground for the sword as Raclin walked away, but did not see it.
He continued his pace, making me run again with the ragool on my heels. We wove through the trees, which looked the same, in a direction that could’ve been anywhere, for a time that felt like eternity. And then before us, I saw the first glimmer of light, sunshine after all this gloom. I picked up my pace, pulling level with Raclin, but he threw out his arm to stop me. I halted mere inches from touching him. Something told me if I had walked one more step and burned his hand with my touch, he would’ve reacted with such fury I would never leave this place.
“How long have I been in here?” They would only wait four days.
“Not long enough.”
“I do not have a flower,” I blurted out, remembering the soldiers’ promise to send any back in who came out empty-handed.
Raclin looked down at me as if questioning the problem.
“They will send me back.”
“I know.”
“Then why didn’t you give me a flower? Why save me and send me home when you know I will end up back here again?”
“I want new memories.”
“What?” I moved away from him, the horror choking my throat.
“Fill your mind with human experiences and bring it back to me.”
“No, I won’t do that for you.”
I could see the demarcation between the dead forest and my home. It beaconed to me. But Raclin moved so he filled my vision. He blocked my path to the sunlight and green fields. The ragool snapped and snarled as it circled us both.
“I want your memories. Bring me what it feels to be human, every pain and every fear. Most of all, let your master touch you, let your body be filled again and bring it back to me. I want to feel your ecstasy. But do not bring me love. That I have no need for.”
28
When I stepped out of the dead forest and into the day, it felt like I had stepped into a dream. I’d hoped for this, pled within my soul that I would survive to see the green stretch for miles to the horizon. When I’d lost my supplies, I’d lost my hope as well. The dark place I’d sunk into was like a little death. Even now I struggled to understand how it was I had survived.
The wraith had given me my life, but I was beholden to him as much as I was to the king. They would send me back again with more poison in my stomach and the wraith would enter my mind and take all of my experiences, thoughts and emotions. It was a defilement deeper than if a man took me against my will, because my physical body was simply my shell for everything precious inside my mind, where the real part of me resided.
My stomach churned and twisted at the thought of the wraith’s evil heart debasing the memories I had of my gentle, compassionate Morick. Everything I hid in my mind became sacred, every thought treasured, every moment special. I had to learn to shield myself before they sent me back.
I felt the vibration through the ground first, before I saw the horse thundering at top speed across the field from the tree line. Cerac. Even with the sight still a small figure on the horizon, I knew it would be him. No one would race so fast to greet me.
The closer he came, the greater my heart sang. The dead forest and all that had happened receded from my mind at the sight of his mare churning the dirt, hammering her hooves on the ground as she galloped.
Cerac’s horse had yet to come to a stop as he slid from her back. As was his way, he landed on his feet with no stumbling or awkward gait and rushed toward me. When he swept me into his arms, I thought about the wraith and how graceful and smooth his movements were, the two of them gifted with panther grace and poise.
“You’re here. You came back to me.” Cerac lifted me from the ground and swung me around, his embrace so tight my lungs wouldn’t expand, and I didn’t want them to. I would rather suffocate than have him release me right now.
His kiss was fierce. It told me how much he’d feared and how much he wanted me in his life and how much he wanted me in his bed, alongside him, touching and loving and showering each other with our joy and gratitude that we were alive. I kissed him back just as fiercely, more so. I pushed my body into his and my tongue in his mouth, demanding he be the one to take me in. My need to wipe the last few days away would be met by the only thing I could think that would eradicate all thought and bring me to a single moment where nothing else survived in my mind but my physical desire and release.
But with my eyes closed and Cerac’s lips on mine, I could think of nothing but the wraith and his demands for me. This was a memory, a sacred moment the wraith coveted the most. The emotions swirling up from my heart, arousing my body, driving me to arch my neck so Cerac might trail hot, wet kisses down my neck and the heating core of my body that silently pleaded for his hands to rake across my flesh, this was what the wraith was greedy for.
I pushed him away, gaining needed ground, gasping and panting because my body could not switch off as fast as my mind. Cerac’s arms remained around my waist and he wound me back close to him, not ready to let me go.
“Where are the soldiers?” I said as a way of bringing us back from the space where it was just the two of us.
As if my question conjured them, the horses and cart trundled away from the trees and down the track toward us. I captured Cerac’s face between my palms. “I don’t have the flower.”
Cerac’s expression told me he didn’t care.
“They’ll send me back.”
“They won’t send you back right now. We will return to Railyon first. The king will want to question you on what you saw. I’ll do what it takes to stop them bringing you back.”
Such as challenge his brother in the arena. And right now I didn’t care about the implications of him doing that. I cared more about the implications of my return to the dead forest.
“How do you feel? Is there any sign of the poison taking hold?”
“No…I don’t think so.” What did I say? How did I explain my sudden healing? “How long has it been?”
“It’s been almost three days. And you were given the poison one day earlier. You should be feeling the effects by now.”
“My stomach’s upset, but nothing else. Did any of the other prisoners return?”
Cerac shook his head. “The soldiers will wait one more day.”
“I found one of them, but he won’t be walking out ever again. The others were with him. They will not return.”
“Then we will leave this place as soon as they give you the antidote.”
The cart creaked and groaned its way toward us. The soldiers eyed me with disgruntled expressions, unhappy to find I was the only one to survive.
“The others will not return. Give her the antidote so that we may leave.”
“Our orders are to wait four days.”
“You can wait, but Rya comes with me back to Railyon.”
“She won’t make it that far.”
Cerac strode over and dragged the soldier from his horse. He squealed as his generous girth hit the ground with a heavy thud. Large as he was, Cerac was a few hands taller and stronger. He yanked the man to his feet, his hand finding his throat as smoothly and quickly as a lightning strike.
&nb
sp; “This is me with no patience left. Things will only get uglier from here.”
“Throw him the vial,” the solider yelled over his shoulder to the other, who drove the cart.
The cart driver climbed down and headed for the back of the cart. While he was gone, Cerac kept his hand on the soldier’s throat, lifting him high enough so his feet scraped the ground.
“She will be sent back.”
“Don’t be too sure about that.”
“The prince wants to see her dead.”
“The prince may not have any say in the matter.”
Despite his desperate situation, the soldier narrowed his eyes at Cerac. There was no threat in Cerac’s assertion, but the soldier seemed to be looking for one anyhow. And he would be right to look, but only I knew how lethal Cerac’s concealed threat was for the prince.
The other man returned, his palm curled around the vial, his fingers fiddling with the stopper. My breath came to a stop, waiting for the moment the soldier undid the top and allowed the antidote to pour onto the soil rather than give it to me. Cerac shoved the soldier he held backward so he staggered then fell on his behind. He covered the distance between him and the other soldier with two strides, hand held out.
“Give me the vial.” His words came out like lethal venom. The hairs on my skin prickled as a small tremble rolled through me. I’d heard a voice like that before. In the dead forest. It belonged to Raclin.
The solider’s eyes widened, the color on his face fading from pale to white, but he kept the vial and looked at his comrade, who nodded. Cerac snatched the vial from the soldier’s hand and rushed toward me.
“Make sure there’s some left for any stragglers,” the soldier on the ground said.
“Take what you need,” Cerac said, placing his body between me and the soldiers.
I tilted my head back, with the cold of the glass at my lips. The liquid was cool, and when I sipped a small amount into my mouth, it felt thick and gummy, like honey on a cold winter’s morning. I was half tempted to spit it out again, but swilled it around in my mouth until the heat of my tongue thinned it down. The taste was far from the sweet nectar of honey. Rather it had the bitter taste of tannin in a dark, heavy brew. My sip was so small the liquid disappeared into the walls of my mouth and on my tongue before it had a chance to slide down my throat.
“Take some more,” Cerac urged.
“It’s enough. I can already feel my stomachache clearing.”
“That fast?” He looked pleased.
He took the vial from me and slipped it into his jacket pocket. “Can we leave now?”
“The prisoner must return—”
All Cerac did was look at the soldier and the man shut up. From my angle beside him, I did not see his expression, but the sudden silence of the soldier had to mean the look was anything but nice. They had no leverage now I was healed. The might of the marked won out.
“How far will we travel tonight?” I asked.
He took my hand and pulled me toward his horse, his eagerness to be gone matched only by my own.
“We won’t travel at night.” With hands on hips, he hoisted me onto the back of his horse, then smoothed into the saddle himself before I was even comfortable.
“I wish to be as far from here as possible.”
“I know. I want you far away myself. But this close to the dead forest, I do not want to risk an encounter with a ragool.”
I doubted we would be bothered by ragools tonight. Raclin wanted me to gather memories. The ragool would come once he realized I was not coming back. But one ragool against a marked was not enough. Six had not been enough for the captain. If Raclin wanted me back, he would have to send an army of the beasts because Cerac would fight every one of them rather than lose me again.
He spurred the horse on with a jab of his heels and she jumped forward and sped away. I snuggled in tight, remembering the last time I’d ridden behind him, pressed close to his body. I inhaled his scent, not as fresh from living in the trees for three days, but still the most beautiful scent I’d smelt.
We rode at a fast pace until the shroud of dark over the dead forest receded from view, then Cerac slowed the horse to a walk. I risked a look back, discontent the darkness could still be seen no matter how far.
“What was it like?” Cerac said.
“Gloomy. The ground was covered in fog. We never stood a chance of seeing a flower.”
“When did you split from the other prisoners?”
I did not want to relive my time in there, nor the betrayal of the three men. I buried my forehead into his back and wrapped my hands tighter around his waist as if that would banish the memories. “I’m out. I want it to be over.”
“Of course you do. I’m sorry.”
I listened to the pleasant lull of the horse’s clops, savored the feel of her wide girth underneath me and Cerac’s warm body in front of me. Could this all be real? When I was in the dead forest, I’d hoped so hard that I would be able to wrap my arms around Cerac again but had forced that wish aside because the fear of it never coming true was greater than my hope that it would. And here I was holding tight behind him, feeling like I would never let him go.
“And you never saw anything? Not even one of the wraiths’ pets?”
I heaved a breath.
“I’m sorry. I’m making the memories linger. Forget I asked.”
“It was gray and horrible. Once you cross inside, you cannot see your way out, nor can you see very far in front of you.”
“Then it is a miracle you are here now?”
I squeezed him tight and rested my cheek on his back, thinking of Raclin’s demand. A cursed miracle.
“I want to tell you something that may surprise you,” Cerac said.
“What is it?”
He did not answer right away.
“Tell me. I won’t tease you.”
“I have a fascination for the dead forest.”
“Don’t you mean fear?”
He rested a hand over mine. “No. There is something about it that draws me close. Something that makes me want to enter. It’s been like that since I was a boy. I would always volunteer to travel with the gatherers because I wanted to see it, wanted to be close. I would stand on the edge of the green soil and stare inside while something strange and compelling would call to me in my heart.”
I lessened my hold on him. “What held you back?”
“Another part of me felt that if I entered, I would lose the man I was and become something else, something heartless and deadly. It was that which stopped me from crossing the line, not the fear of dying.” He patted my hand. “Do you think I am a crazy man? Do you think I am bad inside?”
“I think you are lost. You are a sane, generous and kind man who is looking for something. And I believe that something is love.”
The horse’s clops punctuated the silence.
“And do you think I have found it?”
With my ear pressed to his back, I heard his breath, and with my chest pressed against him, I felt his warmth and every contour of his body. I closed my eyes. All of this would be replayed in the wraith’s mind should he ever get me back. “I cannot tell you, master of the arena. That is something you would know for yourself.”
“But it is something I cannot determine on my own.”
“Then you will have to wait and see.”
I wanted to say yes, but there was an unsettled stirring deep inside that told me I had not escaped Raclin’s grasp. I never would. And that he was right here with me now.
29
We rushed through the streets of the city, scattering children and dogs and gathering stares as we pounded past. Etched in everyone’s memory would be the view of a servant, soot black and dirty, astride her master’s horse, arms wrapped tight around his waist. The news would travel, become entrenched on everyone’s lips and expand and distort until it no longer resembled the truth. It would become a story of daring courage and love that would inflame the king
and the prince beyond the rage they would feel once they knew I’d returned empty-handed.
Cerac spurred his horse fast through the winding city lanes, heading for the arena. We were arriving a day ahead of the soldiers, which gave Cerac the time to come up with his plan to save me, and given the speed at which he ploughed his horse on once we crossed the city gate, he wanted to reach the arena before the whispers of our arrival reached the palace, no doubt already on their way to the king via the soldiers manning the gate.
Cerac deviated from the main door of the arena and headed for his own personal entrance, the same place he’d taken me before this nightmare started. He pulled the mare to a rough halt and slid from her back as the stable boy came hurrying over. He helped me down and ushered me toward the door without a word to the boy, who collected the horse’s reins and led her away without the need for instruction.
I’d expected us to head for the kitchen or my room, but once inside, Cerac led me through winding torchlit passages that seemed to lead down into the bowels of the arena.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere where you won’t be found. Not until I’ve worked something out.”
I skidded my heels, pulling on his hand. “I’ve been in a dungeon, remember? I’m not interested in going back into one.”
Cerac breathed out and squeezed both my hands. “I know. I have not forgotten. This is not like the king’s dungeons. I promise. It’s important, Rya. Hunrus will be enraged when he hears his plan did not succeed. I cannot predict what he will do. I know it will be drastic and swift. That is why I must prevent them from finding you until I have taken care of everything.”
“You are going to challenge him in the arena?”
“It is the only way. I know Hunrus. I know his vengeance. It is cruel. He will not let this die.”
I stepped into his arms, moving in close, savoring the feel of his arms cocooning me in a safe embrace. “I feel this is all my fault.”