by Heath Pfaff
"I scare myself, Laouna." I replied. "I don't understand how to control the anger inside of me. When it wants to break free, it overwhelms me. I feel as though I'm watching as my body does whatever it wants. Ethaniel has bound me again, and I'm growing stronger. I don't know what that will do to my control. I don't think anyone knows. No one has ever been bound twice."
"You're a good person, Lowin. I know you can control whatever is making you do these things. I wouldn't feel this way about you if I believed you were really a monster." Malice's voice was tinged with sadness, most the anger having gone. The red haired warrior turned back to me.
"I have another life on my conscience. Another Uliona woman is dying now. Ethaniel forced the binding, but it is I who will swallow up her life." I felt crushed inside as I said the words. "I don't want to live through this again."
"You'll live on for Kaylien, and for me." Malice said, her expression softening. She moved closer to me, her eyes going over my face. She reached up a hand and I flinched for a second, but she only passed her fingers gently over my skin. "Your scars are gone." Her gaze went distant. "How will we remember Wisp now. . ." A tear fell from the corner of Malice's right eye, and traced a single line down her smooth, pale skin.
I reached up and touched my own face, looking for the familiar scar lines that I had worn for years, since Wisp had cut them into my face when we'd fought while I was still in training at Fell Rock. The scars were entirely gone. A profound sadness filled me. Though those scars had been given in anger, every time I had looked in a mirror, I had always seen them and thought of the good times I'd spent with Wisp and my daughter. Wisp had been too good for the fate that had befallen her. Another realization struck me.
"You remember Wisp?" I asked, incredulous. Malice had not mentioned her since her coma.
Malice nodded once. "I think of her face, and I get sad. I don't recall much, but sometimes I would picture her when I saw your scars."
"I'm glad you remember her." I smiled as I spoke those words. "She always thought of you like a big sister. I'm glad I'm not the only one who carries her still. She was a good woman." Silence descended.
"You won't do anything like that again, will you?" Malice asked, after we'd stood quietly, a breath's width apart. I knew then that I was forgiven, and I wondered if finding her forgiveness should have been so easy. Malice loved me, and perhaps that was her greatest flaw. She would forgive me anything.
I shook my head, hoping that it was true. "No, I will not do anything like that again."
She put her arms around me, and I returned the gesture. For the first time in years I held Malice in two arms. If only that second arm had not come at such a terrible price. Would I think of that life trickling away, eventually to be lost entirely, every time I held Malice with my new white arm?
Ethaniel was awake when I returned to the beach with Malice in tow. I hadn't been certain he would recover so quickly, but it was a relief to see that he was at least awake and coherent. He was sitting up. A fire had been built, and he was resting near it, Telistera not far behind him. Snow was still laying quietly, Tower at her side, a vigilant sentinel. I wondered if he'd had time to rest at all since reaching shore. Silver was at the water's edge, staring out over the sea from which we'd come. All attention turned to me as I drew near the fire and Ethaniel.
His gaze locked on mine. There was no anger in his black eyes, but the gray eyes were, as always, alight with their own inner malice. Those gray smoking orbs were the key to everything. They had changed Ethaniel from the brave, stalwart leader of the Knights of Ethan, into whatever it was that he had become. I wanted to know exactly what that was. I wanted to know why that woman aboard the ship with the Hungering, had the same eyes as he did. I intended to have my answers. I sat down, keeping the light of the fire between us.
"What are you?" I asked, across the roar of the flames.
"You know, it took me years to track down the monster I bonded to take those wings, and that says nothing of the effort I put into fighting and killing the beast. That battle was the closest I'd come to defeat since becoming a Knight . . . until today. I knew you would be powerful, but I had no idea the extent of that power. You impress me." Ethaniel said, his voice as collected as ever.
"What are those gray eyes, Ethaniel?" I asked again, doing my best to keep my anger restrained. He was playing his usual games, avoiding my questions.
"The eyes were painful, but having those wings torn away was something else entirely. A cut wouldn't have hurt as much, but that terrible pressure, and then the exploding agony as you tore the flesh away from me . . . that was something I won't soon forget." He smiled as he finished speaking, a strange expression that sat unnaturally upon his face. Was it madness that lay beneath the surface of his calm black eyes? There was something trapped in there, but I could not tell what it was.
"Why did that woman on the ship have the same eyes as you?" I asked another question, ignoring his teasing. The others around the camp had been watching closely, but as I asked that question, I could feel their attention becoming more pointed. Until that moment, they hadn't known what I'd seen. "Why did that woman in charge of the Hungering have the same eyes that you have, Ethaniel? I've never seen another creature like the one you took those cursed things from. What is the shadowlyn? What is your connection to it, to her, and to the Hungering? What have you become?"
Ethaniel's smile fell from his face instantly, not passing to shock, but merely melting like the illusion that it had been. His gray eyes smoldered. There was hostility there, anger, but there was a clever cunning as well. I did not fear the anger, but I feared that cruel intelligence.
"I have been nothing if not loyal to a fault. I have stood at your side, fought at your side, through every situation. I have gone with you when others abandoned you, and stood between you and death on many occasions. You repay me by accusing me of betraying you, and tearing the wings from my back. In doing so, you not only take the flesh, but you take the freedom of flight from me, and that is something that I will miss dearly for the rest of my time. I owe you nothing, Lowin Fenly. I owe you nothing, King Noble. Yet still I remain, because I will fight at your side until the bitter end. That is the course of action I have chosen to take. I will help you find your daughter, no matter what you inflict upon me. I will see you to your goal." Ethaniel's words felt like a dagger struck into my heart. I did not doubt that they had been aimed to have just such an effect. He was playing on my sense of loyalty.
"You're not answering my questions." I said, my anger cooled by my own shame. His words rang with just enough truth that they cut away at my facade of calm, and etched away at my righteous anger.
"I'm not going to answer your questions. What will you do, Lowin? Perhaps you will rip my arms away next? My legs?" He reached up and grabbed one of the long horns that protruded from his head. "These? They were hard won, and harder still to join with. I suppose having them torn away would be a relief, though. Doorways would no longer pose such a difficulty. So, Lowin, what will you take away from me next?" He stood, spreading his arms out wide. "Don't be shy. Show the others what a powerful man you have become." He was playing to the audience around him.
"Say what you will, Ethaniel. We both know that you are hiding a dangerous truth. You say you serve me, but I know you serve something else. I was wrong to take your wings as I did. I regret doing it. However, you are a danger to all of us, and you have betrayed me more deeply than any other I have ever known." I held up my white furred arm and clenched the fist.
"You cursed someone to death so that I might have this arm back. I don't believe for a minute you did it because you were worried about me. You bound me to another life, that I will have no choice but to slowly eat away. I will grow stronger, while the woman you've tied me to will grow weaker. Every day that I feel more powerful, she will die a little more. I don't even know her face. I can't even thank her for what she has given me. She will die alone and unremembered because of your actions.
Ethaniel did not speak again, and uneasy silence settled over our camp. I'd had the last words, but he'd defeated me. I would get no information from him, no matter how hard I pressed. Further violence would only serve to alienate the others, and he knew it. The answers were slipping away from me again. I was forced to act without all the information I needed to make a sound judgment. I turned to Telistera. She still did not look well, but I was counting on her.
"You know how to find the Hungering?" I asked, though I already knew the answer to that question.
She nodded. "I know where they came from. I can take you there, more, I can tell you how to get there." Her face was grim. "I may not make it all the way, so it will be important for you to know how to finish the journey without me."
I nodded. I knew what she meant. It was not something I wanted to think about, but Telistera was nearing the end of her life. That was why she looked so run down, and wasn't healing as quickly as normal. Those of the silver eye, her people's chosen warriors, only lived for twenty years at best, and she was near the end of those years.
"What do you mean you may not make it?" Malice's voice was wrought with concern. It sent a rush of pain through my chest. "You've healed from worse injuries before. I'm sure you'll be fine. You just need some time."
Telistera shook her head. "For one of my kind, I have lived a long time. I wanted to come back here, to my home, before my life had run its course. I've done that now. I will stay with you as long as I can, but my end is soon upon me. I can feel it rushing towards me. My powers are waning."
". . . but, I don't want you to die." Malice said, and for the first time in a while, she sounded more like Laouna than Malice. I could hear the innocent inflection in her voice, and that innocence was suffering.
"It's alright, Laouna. We all die eventually, and I have lived a good life. I am not sad about it, and you shouldn't be either." The silver-eyed woman insisted. I clenched my teeth and forced my own emotions under control. She had been an invaluable ally for a long time. I did not want her to die either. I knew, however, that the time was coming. I would remain strong. Perhaps that would give strength to the others. To lose a companion in combat was hard, but to lose one to the ides of time, somehow that was harder still.
Malice did not speak again, but she drew her cloak about her, and pulled the hood low over her face. I moved to her side, and put an arm around her, looking out over the beaten remainder of the thousands that had come with me from Kreo. Only six were left. I wondered what had happened to all the others from the ship. Had they made it to shore yet? Would they ever? The black cloaks, and their young, what had become of them?
Snow lay still upon the ground, Tower sitting at her side like a loyal dog. I hoped that she would wake soon. The longer she slept, the greater were my concerns for her. Tower held her hand in his own, his eyes falling back onto the white-furred warrior's face as the camp settled and became quiet. What if she died? I forced that thought out of mind. It was far too bleak a consideration to hold onto.
"Everyone get some rest. I'll keep watch for the night. I'm not tired." There were protests, but in the end I convinced the others to sleep. Even Ethaniel laid down, though whether or not he actually slept I didn't know, and didn't care. I stayed by Laouna, and kept my eyes on the world around us. We were in Hungering country. It was time for us to be more cautious. I hadn't lied to the others, either. I was not tired. In fact, I felt as energized as ever. I couldn't have slept if I'd tried to. I didn't know it then, but I would never need to sleep again.
Snow rose from sleep four hours after the others had lain down. She looked tired, and still had bruises and cuts, but otherwise she seemed well. When she woke up, she stealthily extricated herself from Tower, who slept closely at her side and made her way across the camp to me. She froze in her tracks when her eyes fell over the new limb stretching from my left shoulder. She crept forward, as though she thought I might be a monster taken the form of a friend.
Her voice was pitched so low that my sensitive hearing was only just able to pick it up.
"How did this happen?" She asked, gesturing towards my arm. I motioned off to the side of the camp, indicating we should create some distance between us and the others so as not to disturb them. I stood up and walked across the beach towards the rolling ocean. When I stood at the very cusp of the water, so that every surging wave licked at my feet, and the sound of the water was all that filled my ears, I knew I had come far enough. I told Snow of everything that had happened the day before, not leaving out any of the details for my own sake. I was not proud of what had transpired, but I would not hide the truth either.
Snow was silent for a time after I'd retold my story. She opened her mouth, as though she were on the verge of saying something, and then closed it again. The silence was heavy, a burden that seemed to rest squarely upon my shoulders. It was a weight I'd brought upon myself, so I bore it stoically. I spoke just to add something to the void left by my confession.
"Tower was worried about you. He stayed by your side the entire time you were out." I spoke as casually as possible. Snow seemed as eager as I to let the subject change.
She smiled wanly. "He's a sweet kid. He has always looked out for me, like a younger brother sticking up for his older sister."
That wasn't how he saw it, I knew. I didn't think young Tower would be happy to hear Snow refer to him as a brother, but it was not my place to interfere between the two of them. Tower would need to make himself clear to Snow, or be forever trapped in the image of the kind little brother.
"He's a good man." I said, emphasizing the world "man" as I spoke it, though not so much that it would seem strange. I could not speak on his behalf, but I would speak the truth as I saw it. Tower was indeed a good man. He was strong, intelligent, and dependable. I was glad to have him fighting beside me. If Snow would allow a place in her heart to open, she might find that he was willing and able to fill it.
Snow stepped closer to me, so that our shoulders were almost touching. "It's a really lovely night." She said, looking up at the sky. The stars shone clearly overhead, a great mat of absolute darkness, broken only by points of vivid sparkling light, spread atop the world.
I suddenly found myself uncomfortable, standing at the beach's edge next to Snow. I sensed that she was looking for something from me that I was in no position to give her. What she needed from me could never be hers. I had given it once to Kye, once again to Malice, and there was nothing left for Snow. Since her betrayal, that truth was set all the firmer. I still felt that stab of a trust broken when I looked at her.
"You should get some rest. You were injured quite badly on your way into shore, and we'll be moving out early, possibly before the dawn." I said, trying to turn aside Snow's attention.
She took a step closer, and then her right hand reached out and took my left hand. She smiled as she squeezed it softly in her own grasp.
"We match now." She said, and indeed our fur did have the same pure white color. I drew my hand away from her.
"Go, get some rest." I pointed back towards the camp where the others still lay. Snow drew her outstretched hand back as though it had been burnt, clutching it to her chest. Her smile was gone. She nodded her head, and turned to return to camp.
I watched her walk way. We had always agreed that what lay between us was nothing more than friendship. I wondered when it had become more to her. I felt the sting of guilt. I had let it come to that point. I should never have gone to her on those lonely nights. If she suffered, it was because of me. That was yet another burden to add to the many others I would need to carry. Which of us, I wondered, had most deeply betrayed the other?
"Give your sword to Tower." I told
Ethaniel, as we all prepared to move out. I had not taken the weapon away from him the day before, but I had decided to do so during the long night. The others had slept for nearly eight hours, an unusually long time for the group of Knights. I had not interfered. They'd needed the rest. It was our first night back on dry land in nearly two years, and everyone was beat from a combination of healing serious injuries, and paddling for days without end to make it to shore.
Ethaniel, to my surprise, did not immediately complain. He unfastened the weapon and handed it to Tower, who quickly put the sword about his waist. It was only after the transfer was complete that the four-eyed Knight decided to speak.
"I am just as dangerous without the sword, King Noble." He said. "I give you the weapon, though, as a show of good faith. I am still loyal to this cause." His voice was calm and even.
"Then I see we don't have a problem." I replied curtly, ignoring the old Knight's attempt to rile me. Only Ethaniel and I did not have weapons. Ethaniel, I felt, was safer without a sword. With the terrifying power coursing through my body, I did not feel that I needed to carry a weapon. Still, I missed my long sword, and not just because it had been a good weapon. I had carried it as a reminder of the people I fought to protect, for it had originally been given to me by Uin Delmor, a man who'd fought and died to avenge his family. Snow had the weapon rebuilt, retaining the core of the original blade, and had given it to me as a present when we left home. That gave it sentimental value. I would never have it back. The ocean had taken it as its own, and there was no recovering what the ocean claimed for itself.