Sorrow's Peak (Serpent of Time Book 2)

by Jennifer Melzer

  “You’ve seen a lot of fighting then?” Finn scoffed and she glared over at him, immediately wiping the smirk from his face with little more than a look.

  “Before I was brought to this land I fought harder than anyone should ever have to fight just to survive.”

  “Fighting with magic is not the same as fighting with steel,” he countered, “as having to get so close to your enemy you can see your own rage, your own desperation to survive staring back at you from his eyes just before you put a blade through him.”

  Lorelei saw nothing but her own fear in the dark black eyes of the orc who crushed her beneath him on the ground, her frantic struggle to free herself, her gaping, screaming mouth.

  “You seem to forget I once fought in the arenas of Bok’naal. Hand to hand, magic against magic. It doesn’t matter if a man’s life is snuffed by steel or fire, killing an enemy damages the one doing the killing no matter the circumstances under which it is done.”

  Brendolowyn never raised his voice, and there was no malice in his tone. “I think it would be wise for Lorelei to understand that killing does not come without regret. Battle is not all glory and excitement. Death is more than just a means to an end. It scars the soul of the one who brings it, no matter the circumstances.”

  “Don’t confuse her,” Finn warned, pushing himself up from where he’d crouched. He was forced to duck down in order to keep the branches of the tree overhead from tangling into his hair, but that didn’t detract from his presence in the least. “Don’t fill her head with wilted flowers and premature guilt and make her doubt her own hand before she even has to raise it to protect herself.”

  “My words are not meant to fill her with guilt or doubt, only prepare her for what she will feel when that time comes.” There was a stiffness in Brendolowyn’s voice unlike any she ever heard. Even when he and Finn disagreed, he seemed more annoyed than truly angry, but the self-righteous declaration that followed was filled with so much conviction even Finn was stunned at first. “She is not like you, Wolf. No matter how much you want her to be, she will never be like you, not even when she wakes her spirit.”

  The words of the tawny wolf from her dream echoed in her mind. You are more like me.

  “She is born of two worlds. That is the very reason she was chosen for the things she must do.” He paused, only long enough to let his words sink in. “You can train her, teach her to defend herself and make her strong, but when the time comes to stand and fight, she will not take life without remorse because she is an emotional being, a woman, and she has seen so very little of this world.”

  She didn’t have to look at Finn’s face to see the anger those words stirred inside him. She felt a little angry herself that he would say such things about her while she was standing in front of him. There was nothing wrong with being emotional, nothing wrong with being a woman. The fairness of her sex should have nothing to do with how well she could fight.

  Before she could respond, Brendolowyn continued. “I simply think it would be wise to prepare her emotionally, as well as physically, that is all. Her sole motivation for standing against an enemy cannot be anger alone, and she must know killing an enemy will have repercussions on her soul.”

  They were all three quiet for a long time, and though Lorelei could feel Finn’s unspoken anger and emotion, she began to focus on her own feelings.

  She never took a life before, though she’d seen him do it without hesitation the night they’d been exiled from Drekne and again when he’d saved her from the orcs on the beach. It seemed so easy for him, but she hadn’t given much thought about how it might make her feel if it was her who killed her attackers. Would she feel remorse, even though they’d wanted to destroy her?

  Even if her life was in danger, she couldn’t imagine it would be such a simple thing to end a life. She could almost see herself staring down at the bodies of the dead orcs, looking at their faces and seeing them as men. Different than her own race, but men, nonetheless. Maybe they had wives and children, lives… Had Finn thought of them at all in that way after he took their lives? Had he suffered in the least the night he killed the men who taught him how to fight just to save her life?

  As if he could clearly read her thoughts, Finn said, “You cannot afford to be distracted by such things in the heat of battle. Those are the kinds of thoughts that get you killed, and you,” he leveled his finger at Bren, “should not be filling her head with them.”

  “Maybe he is right,” she thought out loud, turning her stare away from him, toward Brendolowyn shadowed in his own robes near the fire’s edge. Finn’s frustration swelled inside her, even more so when his strong hand came down on her shoulder. “Maybe I do need to understand my motivation to fight.”

  “Maybe he is right,” he agreed, but she could tell he didn’t mean it. “And if he is, you shouldn’t be out here at all because I can promise you that before all is said and done, you will have to take lives, Princess. Especially if you would keep your own.” He nudged past her, his arm lightly touching hers as he walked, his shoulder catching in her hair. “The only motivation you should need to fight is your own survival. If every time you blink in battle, all you see is the face of the man who used your heart to get under your skin, then good. Your hatred for him will guide your hand and your enemies will fall to your blade.”

  She wanted to call after him, ask him who her enemies were because she didn’t know the answer. Trystay was her enemy, that much she knew, but beyond that who else was there? Aelfric? His men? If it came down to it and she stood face to face with the man she’d called Father all her life, could she raise her arm against him, even as he threatened to run a blade through her heart?

  She stared after Finn until he ducked inside the tent, the flap wavering behind him, and then she turned her gaze toward Brendolowyn. How could two people who wanted the same thing for her be so different? Even worse, how could she not even know what she wanted for herself? Without another word, she walked past Bren and sat down near the fire, staring long into its flames and trying to make sense of the tangle of thoughts in her mind.

  “Please don’t be angry with me for wanting you to know what you are up against.” Bren sat down near her, just close enough that she could feel him beside her, but far enough that if she held out her hand she couldn’t touch him. “Finn is right, you do need to know how to protect yourself because we may not always be there, but if it came down to it and you had to kill a man…” Those words hung in the night between them, so heavy she could feel them weighing on her soul. “I just want you to understand that it will haunt you, Lorelei, long after they are dead, the faces of everyone you ever have to kill will be there every time you close your eyes.”

  “So what am I supposed to do?” she muttered helplessly. “Just run away? Stand there and let them kill me?”

  “Of course not. Sometimes you will have no choice but to kill your enemies if you want to survive, but there will be times when running is the better option, other times even still when trying to make peace with your enemies would serve you better.”

  “But how do you know the difference? How do you know when to run, when to make peace… When do I know if I should kill a man who’s trying to kill me?”

  “Listen to your heart,” he said softly. “It will always know.”

  As far as answers went, that one was getting tiresome. Her heart spoke only of foolish, insignificant things that had nothing to do with survival. It spoke of emotional conflict, fear she would make the wrong choice when she was finally ready to decide what was essential to her future. A long, exasperated breath escaped her, her chest contracting as she nudged her chin into her shoulder. She stared in the direction Finn went, watching the flap still wavering with his movement inside the tent.

  The greatest part of her wanted to go to him, but she didn’t. Withdrawing her gaze, she focused instead on the fire, hugging her knees close to her body and trying to turn off her thoughts for just a little while.

  CHAPT
ER SIXTEEN

  Bren sat with her near the fire for a long time, neither of them speaking. He didn’t have to speak for her to know he was watching her. He sensed she could feel his gaze, and she deliberately fought the impulse to meet with it. Her avoidance hurt more than he could put into words, but he didn’t leave her there alone. Even protected by the barrier he’d raised, he didn’t like the thought of her ever being alone.

  Lorelei was in a lonely position, burdened by the most solitary task imaginable, and the man who was supposed to see her through it all only seemed to want to argue with her at every turn. Did Finn not see the proportion of all that lay ahead of her? How much she was going to need a shoulder to cry on, someone to occasionally reach down, take her by the hand and lead her through the dark times ahead? She needed someone to lean on.

  She was meant to save not just their people, but the entire world. When the time was right, when she fixed whatever events that were once broken, she would wake the serpent and find herself expected to slay it in order to set the world to rights again.

  He pored over the text he’d given her, but it didn’t clearly explain the result of the prophecy coming into fruition. It spoke only of setting time back on its course, but surely such a monumental act would have its consequences. And the moments leading up to the epic battle she would eventually undertake would be terrifying for her. The weight of the world on her shoulders, and the U’lfer only wanted to cause her more confusion and doubt about her place in all of it.

  Brendolowyn could tell she wanted to fall onto the ground at times and throw a tantrum, but she never whined or complained about how unfair it was. She’d accepted her position, embraced it with a certain amount of admirable grace, despite how senseless it seemed to her to just do what a seer said she was meant to do.

  The majority of her frustration revolved around not knowing how or even where to start. Rhiorna gave her even less than Yovenna before shoving her out into the world and telling her to find her way. Yovenna couldn’t have told Lorelei much more than she said before she died. It was the convoluted path of the seer to guide without giving too much information to fork the original path in a new direction. In essence, that was the real challenge they faced: correcting the fork and realigning the path in order to achieve the intended outcome.

  Yovenna told him not to blame himself, but he knew for a fact the forking of that time line was a direct result of his selfishness.

  From the corner of his eye he watched her draw her legs up close to her body and wrap her arms just below her knees. She tilted her head to rest atop them and stared into the flames. Absently chewing her bottom lip, she sighed several times, occasionally looking back over her shoulder in the direction Finn went when he stormed off.

  Bren hated that she wanted to go to him, hated even more that he’d promised to stand back and let what was supposed to happen between her and her mate happen. Despite how easily the younger man annoyed him, he didn’t hate Finn, but that didn’t mean Bren thought the arrogant bastard deserved to spend his life with Lorelei.

  He was loud and crass, obnoxious and rude, and Lorelei spent more time not talking to Finn than she did actually talking to him. How could the world-design intend for two people to spend their existence together if they could hardly stand to breathe the same air half the time?

  They were so different from one another, and though Yovenna tried to explain to him at least half a hundred times over the years that such opposites provided a necessary balance to the natural order of things, that didn’t mean he had to like it. They were two parts of the same soul, their differences, when combined, would make them a whole being. Without Finn, she would never be complete.

  On the other hand, he wasn’t so sure he deserved her any more than Finn did. The part of him who admired the idea of her from afar still lingered beneath the surface, and it grew stronger with each passing day, but as he came to know her he began to understand he’d been in love with an idea, not a woman. He’d grown infatuated with a memory he was never meant to have, and the greatest part of him didn’t understand why she’d even given him those memories if they weren’t meant to guide him to her in the end.

  The more time he spent with her, the better he came to know her. He grew to love the young woman she was, not just the entity she would become, the spirit that saved him so he could be a part of her cycle. The mere sound of her laughter was like music to his ears; her smile was more powerful than the light of a thousand suns. Just being near her was enough to make him feel content, but he couldn’t let her see that, not ever.

  He’d promised Yovenna he would do the right thing, no matter how difficult it was—even if the right thing meant saying words to her he didn’t quite believe himself.

  A lump rose into his throat, tightening the cavity and making it difficult for him to swallow. It was even harder to find his voice, but after several tough gulps he finally said, “He means well.”

  A long, silent moment passed before she blinked and glanced in his direction as if she couldn’t believe he’d just said those words.

  “Finn, I mean. It was wrong of me to argue with your mate. He only wishes you to be ready for what lies ahead. To face it all without fear.”

  “He’s not my mate,” she countered. “Not yet, anyway.”

  “No, he is not yet, but he will be when you are ready to accept him.” How painful it was to say those words to her. Had he said them to her before, in other instances of the moment they relived time after time? “It has been seen.”

  “I still don’t understand why it’s even important who I choose to… mate with.” The last two words she spoke were difficult for her to say, uncomfortable in her mouth and jumbled when she finally managed them. “What does it even have to do with anything in the grand scheme of things?”

  “Perhaps it is more important than you could possibly begin to imagine.”

  “Hmm,” she mused thoughtfully, her gaze still resting on the fire. “Somehow I find that hard to believe.”

  “There are volumes of tales in the Lyceum of Dunvarak, chronicled histories of the U’lfer Yovenna brought with her from the Isle of Dorayne. I’ve read them all many times, know the stories of our people quite well. Llorveth was a great romantic.”

  She tilted her head toward him, the fire’s light catching in the coppery strands of her hair.

  “His love for Brisvyn and the bond they shared before she betrayed him was so powerful he longed for his children to experience such love. As they made the first U’lfer together, he took a piece from his own heart and one from Brisvyn and molded them together. Then he broke those combined pieces in half and placed them inside mated pairs. He set their spirits free into the world and watched as they made efforts to find one another again. Not unlike the Eternal Hunt, if you will.”

  “That seems cruel.”

  “Perhaps,” he nodded agreement. “But maybe we do not understand because we are not wolves, not wholly. The Hunt is inside us, but it is stifled. The U’lfer are not born with two spirits, as many assume. Each wolf is born with only half a spirit inside him, and he spends the sum of his days searching for the other part of himself so he might become whole again, much like Brisvyn’s pursuit of the Great Stag.”

  “But we are not U’lfer, as you said,” she pointed out. “What of our hearts? Our souls? Is part of us missing?”

  “I do not know the answer to that questions, Lorelei. We are half-blooded. Born of wolves who never found the other part of their souls. There are some who believe we are the children of Llorveth and Madra. That before Brisvyn betrayed Llorveth, there were no half-bloods in this world. Perhaps Llorveth realized such bonds were not practical,” he shrugged. “Or maybe it’s something else entirely.”

  “But if we are bonded to a wolf…” Shaking her head, he could see the confusion in her eyes, which stared dumbfounded into the fire as she spoke. “If I am Finn’s mate and he is mine, why don’t I feel things with the same intensity he does? Why do I have a choice, bu
t he doesn’t?”

  “It would be silly of me to speculate, as I don’t have a clear answer, but for the sake of the conversation I can’t help but wonder if the bond is equally strong, but because you are unable to embrace the wolf within, you do not feel it with the same strength he does.”

  “Maybe.”

  “I know he is not the easiest person to get along with,” he confessed, “but in the end he is your mate.”

  “I know.” There was a hint of lament in her voice. “I just wish it was clearer. He feels everything so deeply, and sometimes I feel it too, but… I don’t know. And when you say it like that, it makes it sound like I have a choice in the matter, but if Llorveth chose our mates for us, there is no real choice at all.”

  “Free will,” he grinned across the fire at her. “The oldest philosophical debate since the dawn of time. If we go against that which we believe the gods designed for us, how do we know our divergence wasn’t part of the original design?” Like the way he felt about her. How could he ever be sure she wasn’t part of his design? That they weren’t meant for one another? Yovenna said it was his fault the cycle continued, but what if that wasn’t true at all?

  “I don’t know,” she shook her head. “I just…”

  She never finished her thought. For a long time neither of them said anything, and he couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking. Did she ever think of him in ways she shouldn’t? Was he the cause of her doubts about Finn?

  “You said Finn wants to prepare me,” she finally said. “What is it you would prepare me for?”

  The future. The chance at a life his jealous love would deny her if he wasn’t careful. “What I want doesn’t matter.”

  “Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know. I mean really, Bren, does any of this matter in the long run?” She held her arms out to encompass their camp, and for a moment he wasn’t sure if she meant their general surroundings or the overall journey.