The Truth about Heroes: Complete Trilogy (Heroes Trilogy)

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The Truth about Heroes: Complete Trilogy (Heroes Trilogy) Page 17

by Krista Gossett


  Melchior’s eyes locked on Ashe and narrowed.

  “I’m not begging for my worthless life. I had refused the Shade knowing full well he’d take my life. I have no reasons left. I couldn’t even help these people when the army swept through and attacked—too afraid I would be noticed and dragged back there. They weren’t trying to mount a full-out attack here though, just trying to make a getaway without their ‘general’ in commission. Don’t trust these elementals, brother; they really don’t give a shit about us. The only good thing is that Erised and Nuriel finding me set me free of that damned thing’s control. I had just triggered some Soulless kid into using his Void apparently and the Shade had gone into it somehow to control him. Nuriel had yanked me away and convinced me he wouldn’t make my death quick and painless if I were so stupid as to refuse again. The rest of my army had fled the moment they saw what that cloud did, straight off to Xanias, although Nuriel decided to take out a few of them to get them running off faster. Went under Xanias via the sea caves, a place I had learned about while crossing Vieres and taking on some work as a smuggler. Been here since. Not remembering isn’t an excuse to absolve myself of those crimes. I should’ve known Chevalle was out of her mind but I held out some stupid hope that I’d get some more answers. More stupid for the fact I traveled alone with a stump for a sword hand. Always had more balls than brains.”

  Melchior kept drinking. Ashe glared at him thoughtfully.

  “Stay here. If you flee, we will hunt you down. I’m going to speak with them and see what we can decide. All of us were chosen for some reason and Pierait is of the Void. I will return here in a day or so and we will let you know what we decide.”

  Melchior raised his mug mirthlessly and downed his drink. “Not going anywhere, kid. Still not done drinking myself stupid.”

  Ashe stood to leave and slid his untouched mug towards Melchior. “Have one on me.”

  Ashe left the bar and headed down the street without looking to Night or Pierait.

  “We need to head to the New District— let the guards know where to send the others when they show up.”

  “Did you take care of him?” Night asked, his voice bubbling with unmasked enmity.

  “No, and if he tries to flee, we’re killing him. I’ll explain the situation once the others are here. Rienna would have my balls if I killed him before she could get her answers. We’ll decide then and not a moment before,” Ashe announced, again not leaving room for argument. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hold off for long— Pierait would not stick around for long and Night was seething with vengeance. Ashe had been too, but one thing he hadn’t missed was that whatever Melchior had done, even out of his control, he was certainly plagued with remorse and guilt. Setting all who had a grievance against him without them knowing that was a recipe for disaster.

  “He killed the only family Freesia and I ever knew; he’s not leaving here alive, Ashe, I don’t care if he is your brother. You never even spoke to him until today and he took away the people who raised me,” Night hissed with venom in his words.

  Ashe swung around and faced Night.

  “Don’t act as if I have gone soft, Night. I’m not sparing him justice, but I sure as hell ain’t fighting him in the ruins of a wounded city with elementals. I’m not going to be the monster you think he is— that’s not justice. Revenge should never be about dragging the innocent into it!” Ashe shouted forcefully. Ashe held himself in check and took a deep breath before continuing. “In case you weren’t paying attention, Pierait was right. He was broken from whatever was controlling him and not only does he not remember, he knows he deserves to die, or at least think he does. I’m not sure justice means letting him die at all. Either way, we’re going to discuss what I know with the others before deciding anything.”

  Night started to simmer with power and the air around him grew ever so slightly darker as he heard the far-off echo of Erised’s laughter in his head. He shook himself out of the rage and backed away from Ashe.

  “I want Erised out of my head. The sooner we finish this, the better,” Night confessed and started to walk ahead of Pierait and Ashe towards the New District.

  “You hear Erised? How often? You shouldn’t have kept this to yourself,” Ashe asked, with some concern but mostly worried about what that meant. Melchior’s words had come to mind— never trust a shade, he had said. It was possible Melchior could help Night somehow, if he knew more than they had time to discuss then.

  Night nodded a little miserably. “All the time. Less at night when the shadows spread to fill the land. I can see the shades everywhere. Laughing, whispering, lying. Always lying,” Night admitted cryptically.

  “Why haven’t you said anything?” Ashe asked.

  “I thought yours were doing it too, but I can see I was wrong,” Night choked out unhappily. “I had to get the broken one. I want him gone. You can’t just get rid of an elemental, can you? I can’t even get these damn clothes or gifts, or whatever the FUCK you call them, off of me!”

  Night’s frustration ran with an edge of hysteria but he calmed again. The wrapped silk was intimidating and creepy for sure. They had always floated unnaturally around Night, but over time, they seemed to move on their own like tentacles or even appear to be breathing. What exactly was Erised doing to him?

  “I want to see Freesia. She could calm me. She always has. She’s never afraid to put me in my place,” Night said, out loud but consoling words meant for himself. His face filled with anxiety and sorrow and he held himself for all the good it did.

  It would be closer to nighttime before Rienna, Dinsch, and Krose could reach Xanias— they could have made it sooner if not for the festival. Rienna hadn’t felt it before but looking at her companions was making her shier by the moment. She had seen them both naked and even though Dinsch was always pretty damned close to naked, she never would have pictured his junk as she had seen it; large, tan, and sprinkled with that same soft white hair all over his body. It would remain a mystery as to what it felt like—she saw zero scenarios in which she could learn that without a potentially awkward casual sex record building up. The pubic hairs of Bryfolk weren’t different in color or texture like was the case in humans; they were in the same area but as consistent as the hair on their bodies. She had pictured Finn’s was probably patterned with the falcon markings and downy feathers. Thinking about so much maleness and seeing her companions with a sort of x-ray vision from the memory was not helping her focus. Feeling shy was a welcome distraction from grief though. As they neared the city, dreading facing Night crept upon her and she missed the one woman who she had called a friend, however short that friendship had been.

  Dinsch seemed sheepish and chipper and Rienna had the suspicion that he was up to something. Maybe he suspected that there was a reason that her and Krose had shown up together. She hadn’t even seemed perturbed by Dinsch’s nakedness then but she could explain that away with just being too distraught. She thought men had been complicated before, but now she was completely waylaid by them. Her experience with men, after all, had been limited to men who were intimidated by her father, as much as she hated to admit that. She had always fought so hard to be intimidating in her own right. She knew that some women used carnal wiles to bend a man to their will but Rienna had distaste for women who manipulated men with flirtation and lies.

  For the love of all gods, her inner muscles not having been used in such a way before were getting sorer by the minute. She tried not to grimace.

  Dinsch bounced in front of her making her stop in her tracks, his eyes squinting from the huge smile splitting his face. Rienna’s heart started to race since she had no idea what Dinsch was up to. He was an impulsive one always and a little naive about boundaries.

  “Rienna, you look miserable. You rest, okay?” Dinsch chimed in, his voice almost maternally soft as swept her into his arms and carried her like an infant. She shrieked a little and instantly hated that she did so— she was trying so hard not to give off any k
ind of feminine vibe, as hard as that was becoming dressed in the ultrafeminine garb Sea Star had given her. She wondered if Sea Star would object to a wardrobe alteration.

  “Dinsch, please, I don’t need to be carried!” she protested weakly, but the way he held her was undoubtedly relieving the soreness. She never quite had the heart to be forceful with Dinsch as she was with others, at least not directly. He was so childlike at times that she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. As childlike as he was, he was also incredibly strong. Not the sort of combination that was safe to piss off.

  Dinsch shook his head adamantly and carried her gently, being careful not to hop about and jostle her, which made her suspect even more than he knew what went on the night before. She threw a look at Krose and he half-smiled a little guiltily, which made her suspect that if he had been sure she was a virgin, he would’ve gone a little easier on her. Except as she remembered it, she had been the one to be so aggressive.

  Rienna shot a look at Dinsch and his smile was way too knowing.

  “He told you, didn’t he?” Rienna hissed out in accusation. Dinsch was horrible at hiding things and burst out laughing as she punched his chest, a weak hit from the position she was in, but she could hear it thump.

  Dinsch would not put her down though and her mind wandered away instead. She was full of suspicions today (founded in some cases), but she was figuring a lot out as she was going along. When she tried to picture a simpler time, her heart would ache with thoughts of Belias and even the boy Melchior had been, a time where she had chosen the paths of her days and delighted in stolen kisses and the butterflies of love softening her steely resolve. The adult world was full of things unsaid— being a teenager had been about secrets but she had not known it then. Like most teenagers she thought she had seen everything there was worth knowing. She didn’t feel things hanging in the air quite so heavily back then. Even as outspoken as Dinsch was, it seemed that he knew how to hold some things back. Or rather the things that really bothered him weren’t useful to him now so he didn’t focus on them.

  Rienna gave up protesting and wiggled to a more comfortable position against Dinsch; his chest belt had been digging into her hip and twisting a little to press her breast and curve of her hip along his torso took some of his arm pressure from her back. She couldn’t see his other arm crooked under her knees and it made her blush, thinking that to all appearances it looked like it was concealed inside of the gown. She was thoroughly sick of seeing sex in every small thing now and pouted unhappily. Dinsch was grinning down at her as she fussed about like a dog does making its bed in a pile of leaves or blankets. She narrowed her eyes, daring him to say anything but Dinsch knew better than to do that. She had felt the impulse to pet that soft sprinkling of fur on his chest so she pretended as if there was something on him that needed brushing off. Damn it, from his smile it looked like he figured out that game too! She curled her fingers into his chest (again, with the motive of her own damning curiosity), digging them in and smiling cruelly.

  He smiled conspicuously and she withdrew, trying to conceal her shock. She hadn’t taken Dinsch to be a masochist, so that backfired. She felt a little strange cradling her arms in her lap though so she rested her hand up on his shoulder but didn’t dare to look at him again. Still, she felt a tad rebellious now and openly petted him, still refusing to meet his gaze and purposely frowning, daring him to challenge her curiosity. Sore or no, she was feeling restless to be using her own two feet again. She found no comfort in relying on men or being so close to them. Her hormones were on a hair-trigger and she longed to be busy— to fight dragons if need be, but she didn’t like this idle time letting her awakened hormones run rampant. When she did get up the nerve to look at him again, he looked completely oblivious to being petted. It occurred to her that it might not be so unusual for him, as much as she had fretted over it. It was a very human trait, to keep your hands to yourself—it hadn’t crossed her mind that he wouldn’t read anything into it. She eased at that, resting her head on his shoulder and the act of rebellion eased into a gentle caress. It gave her a peace she hadn’t felt in a very long time. She was a chaos of emotion on her best days so she took this moment selfishly and held it dearly.

  The trek to Xanias fairly uneventful (they stopped for lunch and shared a bit of small talk, mostly leading to Rienna’s humorless return to silence) but as they neared, Rienna knew that their thoughts were as dark as hers and even Dinsch’s ears were not as perky as usual. Provided their allies arrived unscathed, they did not know what awaited them here— either way, no one relished telling Night about Freesia. Rienna had told Dinsch about it before they had stopped for lunch (he had known she had died, but not the details) and he had been unable to hold back tears and whimpers, which had moved Rienna to tears as well. It was no easier than watching a child cry; Dinsch was a sincere crier and she had never seen that in a man. It humbled her. Dinsch had not known Freesia very well, but he was ever grateful to Rienna for rescuing him and he figured that anyone that Rienna could love, it was a tragedy to lose them. He might not have spoken with her much (Night rarely left her side), but he had liked the delicate, damaged girl with the angel’s face.

  Rienna had felt guilty that she had invited Freesia along at all; Lumina would have found her regardless, but she wondered if Night’s gifts from Erised might have saved her. She wasn’t so sure of that either— Sea Star had only protected her and if Krose hadn’t been the Chosen, she would have lost them both. Pierait had unnerved her, but he should have been the one to go with her and Krose, perhaps. Rienna had crafted a million excuses for why she wouldn’t bring Ashe with her and she realized how silly she was being. It was her own petty inner conflict that was endangering those who depended on her and it had to stop. It was too late for regret but she could not help but wonder how much would have been different if she had saved her friend. She would have loved that Summer Festival. Maybe. She thought she detected reluctance with men for Freesia that might have made the orgy terrifying for her. Krose might have looked after them both and he would have been the perfect gentleman rather than an impromptu lover. Maybe Freesia would have been with Night in another scenario and they could have sorted out their feelings. Misery lay in the world of ‘what-if’ so Rienna detached herself from that. She already blamed herself enough.

  Rienna had tried to get Dinsch to let her walk several times (she had thought it was done after they had stopped for lunch but he swept her up again); however, he carried her all that day. He was so tense after learning about Freesia, he seemed as if he was worried to let her out of his sight. Rienna wanted to assure him that Sea Star could protect her, but she didn’t think Dinsch much trusted the elementals at all anymore himself. He told them when they had stopped for lunch that Girdinus had seemed harmless enough but he was a forgetful one and he had very nearly left Dinsch in that underground cavern with no way out simply because he had things to do, whatever they were. She let Dinsch carry her but she let him know she would need to stretch every so often; she just wasn’t used to not using her muscles and it made her sore to rest so much. Walking felt a bit uncomfortable too though and she liked the excuse to pet him. He agreed to let her stretch, but he seemed very stubborn about continuing to carry her. It wasn’t about treating her like a woman or weaker; at this point, he seemed to need it more than she did. Maybe being petted was therapeutic for him too. Every time, she looked toward Krose, his face was set in stone, far off in his own thoughts, although he smiled reassuringly whenever Rienna checked on him. Maybe Dinsch was saving them all from themselves whether he intended it or not.

  They were close to the city gates and two guards ran out to greet them— Claude and Selvius were not still on guard so it was two different guards but they seemed friendly as they gestured to Rienna and her companions. Rienna felt her heart quicken and hoped that meant her companions were already there. When the guards got close enough, they spoke to Krose, who was ahead of her and Dinsch now. Rienna suddenly felt shy about being
carried and wriggled to signal she wanted to be put down.

  “Is the lady wounded, sirs?” the guard asked and she steadied herself, rounding Krose to stand in front with an air of authority.

  “I’m okay; we’re looking for entry into Xanias. We’re looking for—”

  “Your friends, right? The blond, the dark one, and the kid with pale blue hair. They’re here and you’re welcome to enter. Follow the east wall into the New District and you’ll find the Four Clover Inn. They’ll be waiting for you,” the guard informed her cheerfully, a young man who was puffed up with the responsibility of delivering a message. Rienna nodded, but stifled a smile, still unhappy to have been referred to as a lady or infirm. The guards signaled the men on the gate and Rienna started to hurry in, but she felt her courage drain with each step. She was still not sure how they were supposed to break the news about Freesia.

  They approached the Inn as the dark of night had settled in and music and warm lights emanated from the tavern area; the rooms off the back looking quiet and cozy. Rienna’s heart felt thick in her throat and she felt a warm rough hand gently take hers.

  “Let me do the talking, Rienna,” came Krose’s voice gently in her ear. He dropped her hand and she nodded, trying to tuck back the tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

  She opened the door to the tavern and Ashe had been the first to see them. He shot out of his seat with a whoop of glee and practically shoved her back out of the door as he charged her and picked her up with his forearms under her rear end, his chin on her stomach as he tossed his head back laughing and spinning around with her. He was stumbling a little, no doubt from drink and she was nervous but it made her a little happy that she had been missed. She grabbed Ashe’s ears and tugged a little, telling him to put her down. He had winced but smiled as he put her down. For a moment, she frowned, looking into his eyes, unable to figure out what was different, but there was no time to dwell on it. She grabbed tightly onto his shoulders, stiff at the sight of Night. Ashe knew immediately what was wrong and his face fell. Night and Pierait had come out too and Rienna trembled violently as her heart sank to her feet. Night was looking around, getting more frantic by the minute. He grabbed Krose’s arm since he was the nearest.

 

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