Thorne (Random Romance)

by Charlotte McConaghy

  ‘I apologise for the blindfold,’ I heard his honeyed voice say.

  ‘Your Empress has already apologised for it once this night. There’s no need for a second.’

  I wanted to touch his skin and feel the weight of his heart. I was alive with the excitement of what I was doing, with the strangeness of it all. ‘My senses aren’t as good as yours. Only my eyes. They see a lot.’

  ‘Then I’m crippling you right now, aren’t I?’

  I nodded, reaching out. He took the bait, walked right into the trap, and took my hand. It was a lie: my eyes paled in comparison to my touch; I felt everything. His warm, smooth skin met mine and I was instantly assailed with a cold agony. It lasted only the briefest of instances, but it was there, like shock and whimsy, like a kernel of rotten fruit inside him, surrounded by the wings of brilliant creatures sweeping him away to places I had never imagined could exist. It was these wings that made me decide.

  ‘I’m taking off my blindfold,’ I told him, and knew he wouldn’t stop me. I could feel his eagerness.

  ‘It’s forbidden,’ he told me. ‘But I wouldn’t deny you for all the world, my Silver Tongue.’

  So I took off my blindfold, and I looked into the forbidden eyes of the Emperor, and knew them to be incredibly beautiful and incredibly sad, and we did not bond.

  We did not bond.

  I think he was more shocked than I. He crossed to the sideboard and poured us wine, but I put mine down. ‘When I drink alcohol, things turn bad.’

  He drank two whole glasses in quick succession, and I sat tiredly on the edge of the bed, my excitement surprisingly fleeting.

  ‘You knew I would call you here.’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘When did you meet the Prince of Pirenti?’

  ‘Several days ago.’

  He paused, surprised. ‘Days? But you fought for each other. Would fall for each other.’

  I didn’t reply, for I had no explanation.

  Falco knelt before me, running his hands over my legs, and there was his cold, cold heart again, and it made me want to weep.

  This was not the fun I had come in search of, not even remotely.

  ‘You are excited to lie with the Emperor of Kaya?’ he asked woodenly.

  ‘No.’ I had been, but not anymore. ‘I don’t like men who are drunk. I like men who are strong and smart and brave.’

  Falco nodded wearily, as though this made perfect sense to him.

  The quiet had begun to creep in. It set me to panic, an uncanny sensation of flailing through the air without a single thing to ground me. ‘But you know fun and pleasure, don’t you?’ I asked him. ‘You love women and wine and you love to have adventures.’ And you have wings inside.

  ‘The same adventure over and over again.’

  ‘But an adventure. You don’t stand still. You laugh.’

  Falco stood up and drew me to my feet. ‘You’re beautiful and clever and desperate,’ he told me. ‘I am forbidden to bond, but I wish that we had, Finn of Limontae. Because I laugh, but my life is empty.’

  I kissed him, hard and quick. And then I left, because I was tired of people asking me for things I didn’t possess and to feel his lips was like peering through a veil to find a million truths I’d never expected.

  He was waiting for me on the bottom step. Big and soft, a gentle beast.

  ‘Thorne,’ I murmured, and he turned to watch me descend, his eyes illuminated by the lights from within the palace.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he asked. I nodded and we started walking.

  ‘If you could be any animal, what would it be?’

  He blinked. Didn’t answer for a long time. ‘I’m animal enough.’

  ‘I’d be a fish,’ I told him. ‘Did you know they don’t have memories? I’d live in salt, and I wouldn’t remember a thing.’

  ‘So how would you remember to love Jonah and Penn?’

  ‘I wouldn’t need to remember. I just would.’

  ‘And what if Jonah died?’ Thorne asked bluntly. ‘He wouldn’t exist anymore, without you to remember him.’

  This was hurting inside my chest. I regretted bringing it up. I regretted everything. ‘You love a man you don’t remember,’ I pointed out.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘I don’t know what it is, but it’s not love.’

  I didn’t know how to reply. Memories were ruin.

  ‘I made love to him,’ I lied, wanting to hurt him.

  Thorne didn’t respond. Perhaps it was foolish to think he’d care about me being with another man.

  Shaking my head, I muttered, ‘You look at me with this thing in your eyes, as though you think me the worst kind of person. But there’s something else in there too. Some wish for me to be better. And it’s worse, because I can’t live up to it.’

  Still he said nothing.

  ‘I feel sorry for you. You’re alone. There’s this big, sad ache behind your eyes.’

  ‘Stop,’ he murmured.

  ‘It’s true!’ I seized on his reaction. ‘You bore me and I annoy you, so whatever this misguided sense of duty is – it isn’t necessary.’

  ‘I’m simply escorting you home,’ he said quietly.

  ‘I don’t want you to!’ I snarled. ‘You’re crippled with fear and unaware of who you are! You’re a lost little boy, Thorne. I pity you.’

  The Prince of Pirenti stopped walking and looked at me. ‘You know how to spot a person’s weakness and use it. You strike to the bone, to the heart. It’s your gift, Finn. And you’ve picked mine. I am crippled with fear and I don’t know who I am. But I see you for everything that you are, and I won’t be frightened of you or your cruel tongue.’

  I strode forward, furious and terrified.

  He took my hand. ‘Don’t.’ Looked into my eyes. ‘Don’t leave.’

  And I knew that he wasn’t talking about now, about me walking away down the street. He was talking about my joy, my light, all the life that was in me.

  ‘It always leaves,’ I told him truthfully.

  When we got back to the inn Jonah drained me of the rot so that I could sleep. But there was still screaming behind my eyes, and I didn’t know how it would ever stop.

  Chapter 9

  Thorne

  It must have been close to dawn when I felt myself start awake at the shake of cold hands. I’d barely been in bed for a few hours and felt horribly groggy.

  Blinking, I peered through the grey pre-dawn light to see yellow eyes staring down at me.

  ‘Get up. We’re leaving,’ Finn said.

  ‘Now?’ I mumbled. ‘Why?’

  ‘To get a start on the other teams.’

  Jonah and Penn were both grumbling as they dragged themselves out of bed. Was I the only one who found this extremely odd?

  I sat up and watched Finn. She was darting around the room, shoving items into her brother’s pack for him, and there was something completely manic about her movements.

  ‘Have you slept?’ I asked.

  A quick shake of her head, the flash of a disarming smile. ‘Who wants to waste time with sleep?’

  Rather than arguing, I hauled myself out of bed and pulled on my shirt. Falco and Quillane were going to see all the teams off together at a reasonable hour, but apparently Finn had decided we weren’t going to participate in that. I wondered if it was because of what had happened between her and the Emperor. She’d told me they’d made love, but I’d smelt the lie as easily as I’d scented the lack of sex on her skin. I had no idea why she’d lied about it, but for some reason the thought of her lying to me at all raked in a thoroughly unpleasant way. Although, I supposed, the thought of her actually making love to him felt a lot worse. I was not about to try and unpack why that was; instead, I blamed it entirely on my beast and his embarrassing appetites.

  The early morning was cool, but the sandstone of the city retained so much heat from the sun that it was like walking on a pleasant bed of coals.

  ‘Where’s Isadora?’ Jonah asked.

&nbs
p; ‘How should I know?’ Finn replied waspishly.

  ‘We can’t leave without her.’ He stopped on the quiet street, folding his arms.

  Finn spread her hands. ‘She didn’t bother telling us where she disappeared to, so why should we wait? She’s not even part of the group. Not really.’

  ‘Finn. Come on.’ The tone of Jonah’s voice was so thoroughly exasperated that Finn sighed. Even she knew she was being ungenerous.

  ‘Fine. We’ll all stand around and waste the advantage because my desperate brother thinks he’s got a shot at sharing his sleeping roll with the knife-happy, albino psychopath.’

  ‘Wow, that’s lovely.’

  I was taking a breath as they argued and so I caught the whiff of cold calm approaching in the dark. ‘No need,’ I told them, just as Isadora appeared silently before us, her white hair and skin glinting. She didn’t say anything, but I imagined she must have heard Finn’s cruel words.

  ‘How did you know where we were?’ Jonah asked her, surprised.

  Isadora only shrugged, and then she led the way towards the south gate. The rest of us glanced at each other, then followed. The mysteries of Isadora were many. I watched the wraith-like creature before me and considered how I had never once smelt an emotion on her. Only a kind of calm … lack. Which was weird. Perhaps I just hadn’t been paying enough attention to her.

  After the tournament the five fastest teams had been given the piece of prophecy and a map, plus a coin purse for the journey. The first piece of the prophecy only read:

  First to south, and then beyond.

  ‘How can you go beyond south?’ Jonah wondered aloud.

  ‘More bloody riddles,’ Finn groaned. ‘How is that supposed to help?’

  ‘The southernmost tip of the country – and indeed the world – lies in Querida, which, if I have my information correct, belongs now to the Sparrow’s warriors, and has done for the last eight years. Since they’re a rebel force intent on bringing down Falco and Quillane’s rule, then they’re going to make it very difficult for us if they know from where we’ve been sent.’

  They all stared at me.

  ‘How come you know so much about it?’ Finn asked suspiciously.

  I sighed. ‘It’s my job.’

  ‘Well he’s right,’ Jonah agreed. ‘So what do we do?’

  ‘How is it even a question?’ Finn asked. ‘The instructions say to go south, so we go south.’

  ‘Into a hornets’ nest?’ I pointed out.

  She smiled sweetly at me. ‘You needn’t worry, Majesty – I’ll protect you if we come to any danger.’

  I frowned. ‘You think it wise to charge into a situation without at least discussing it first?’

  ‘Who said anything about wise?’ She made a face of distaste.

  ‘You talk in circles,’ Isadora told us bluntly. ‘We vote.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ Jonah agreed. ‘Those who think we should go south into Querida?’

  Finn’s hand shot into the air, followed by her second hand, and then she stood on tip toes to make her reach even higher, bouncing up and down with excitement. Penn copied her, and the pair of them looked ridiculous. I couldn’t help but laugh. Isadora flicked a lazy hand into the air, which was followed by Jonah’s ‘aye’.

  With a shrug, I nodded. ‘I never said we shouldn’t. I just wanted to discuss it.’

  To which Finn promptly replied, ‘And that, our big gentle giant, is why you are such a bore.’

  We exited through Sancia’s outer wall to find ourselves on a long, flat plane, glowing as the sun rose over it. In the distance was Mount Barraka, and beyond it the rock region of Ora, which we would have to travel through to get to Querida.

  As we walked, I noticed that Penn grew less and less exuberant, and with each passing stride he began to turn and look over his shoulder.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Jonah asked him when he finally stopped and wouldn’t walk any further.

  ‘Griggor,’ Penn replied.

  ‘He’s fine, mate. Your grandma loves him.’

  Penn continued on, but it was plainly obvious that he was unsettled.

  ‘I’m bored,’ Finn announced, after glancing at him for the tenth time in a few seconds. ‘I think it’s time for a story.’

  Penn’s ears immediately pricked up and he looked at Finn with reluctant interest.

  ‘Have you heard the tale of Fenrir the Wolf?’ she asked him, and I felt my own interest pique. This was an ancient Pirenti fable.

  Penn shook his head.

  ‘Well then, you’re in for a treat, my tiny friend. A million, trillion years ago, deep in the darkest forest there ever was, sat the oldest, wisest woman in the world –’

  ‘Finn,’ Jonah laughed.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Try exaggerating a bit more – we’re too stupid to get the point otherwise.’

  ‘Hyperbole is a legitimate storytelling tool,’ she snapped. ‘Anyway. The wise woman had the ability to see the way the world would come to be. She spoke of the birth of a creature, and she named him Fenrir the moon-snatcher. She said that at the very end of the world he would slay the god of war by devouring him, and so named him, also, the beast of slaughter.’

  Finn found her stride and I felt something almost otherworldly come over me then. As she weaved the tale she began to act it out, her long limbs making a slow kind of hypnotic dance that conjured precisely what she described with words. I had never seen anything like it, and didn’t dare to blink as I watched her.

  ‘As had been foretold, Fenrir was born into the world. He was not a monster – but he was terrible, and he was beautiful, for he was the mightiest of wolves. All those in the land knew him for what he was – a beast, destined to kill the beloved war god who had kept them safe for all eternity. So the gods and goddesses came together as one to plan the moon-snatcher’s capture.’

  Finn danced the birth of the wolf, and the fear of those watching, and she danced the divine beings as they drew forth and created two fetters, each of varying strength. She danced Fenrir growing larger and stronger with every day, and the moment when the only god brave enough to approach him – Tyr – took the first fetter to him and asked him to wear it.

  ‘Fenrir knew the fetter to be weaker than he, so he allowed it, and with one mighty kick he broke free of it. This frightened the gods, and they had Tyr bring him the second, twice as strong. Tyr told him that if he tried his strength with this second fetter, he would earn the love of the people, and not be so hated by all. So the lonely Fenrir did so, and he broke free with a measure of great and unrivalled strength.’

  With a swift turn on the balls of her feet, Finn jumped and twisted and mimed casting off heavy shackles, so beautifully that I imagined I could see the chains scattering as far as the eye could track.

  Jonah and Penn were watching her closely, but not with the kind of awe that would infer she had never done this before. No, it seemed they knew well her skills at storytelling. Isadora was witnessing it expressionlessly, but there was a certain interest in her red eyes that I had not glimpsed before.

  ‘The gods feared they were destined to perish at Fenrir’s hands so they sent for the iron god to create them an unbreakable third fetter. Tyr once again asked Fenrir to wear it, but the wolf was growing wary now. He saw the fetter for its strength, and knew he could not beat it, so he asked for a guarantee. He would put it on, but if he could not break free it would mean that he could not be such a threat as the gods believed. Therefore he should be let free. They agreed, but Fenrir wanted someone to put their hand between the sharp teeth of his jaws as the deal was carried out – insurance against treachery. Tyr was the only one brave enough to do so. Fenrir fought against the bindings but they only grew stronger, and he could not break them. ‘I have failed, and thus you are to set me free,’ he announced. But the gods did no such thing. They laughed at him, and so Fenrir bit Tyr’s hand from his wrist and was given the ultimate punishment. The gods placed a sword into the wolf’s wide jaws, p
ropping them perpetually open, despite Fenrir’s heart-wrenching howls of despair and agony. They left that sword in for the rest of eternity, a punishment for his very existence.’

  There was an abrupt, cold silence as Finn acted out that final, depressing end, then grew still, returning to her body as though she was only suddenly becoming a girl once more.

  In my mind and my heart I saw the world’s end as my people believed it would happen one day: as one son to devour the sun, the second son to devour the moon, as the disappearance of all the stars from the sky and the mighty ice mountain falling. I saw the end of Finn’s tale, when everything would crumble and Fenrir’s sword would finally snap, freeing him from torment, freeing him to run forth and devour the war god in the final battle.

  ‘Why didn’t they just kill him?’ It was Isadora, surprisingly, who startled us with her soft voice.

  Finn turned her yellow eyes to the other woman. ‘The gods respected the earth too much to defile it with the wolf’s blood, even if it meant their deaths.’

  ‘What happened in the end?’ Penn asked.

  ‘The end has not yet found us,’ Finn replied, and then she smiled, and it was slow and gentle, and it was a smile I had never seen her wear. ‘But I know he will get free.’

  As a boy, I was taught to fear the moon-snatcher’s liberation, but to hear the words on Finn’s lips this morning seemed as though she longed for it more than anything. Something caught inside me, like the sudden existence of something new. An idea, the ghost of one. Goosebumps rose on my skin.

  ‘He was a monster,’ I said softly. ‘Would that his binding last forever.’

  Finn looked at me, and there was no surprise in her eyes, none whatsoever. She understood completely, and in that moment I thought she understood me completely. ‘What did he do wrong?’ she asked. ‘They broke a vow; he broke none. He was only born.’

  We walked in silence until afternoon found us. I thought of nothing but the wolf and his perpetual agony. I thought of Finn. I had believed her ignorant and childish, but she was not. She understood truths hidden from the rest of the world, and saw deeper than the bone. She heard stories and looked further than anyone wanted her to look. But therein lay the problem. These were stories to her. Finn had never seen a beast, not a real one. She had never feared the wolf because she had never encountered him.