Sorrow's Peak (Serpent of Time Book 2)

by Jennifer Melzer

  Knowing his sister was safe allowed him to return the focus of his worry to their little brother, whom Ruwena refused to believe was capable of rising to any purpose without managing to get himself killed in the process.

  “He may not come back,” Vilnjar lamented quietly.

  The two of them took watch together, the others succumbing to sleep around the fire, and for a moment he glanced back over his shoulder at Frigga, who curled on her side, her hands folded beneath her cheek, eyes closed softly as the low embers of the fire cast soft orange light against her pale skin.

  “I can’t believe you just let him go. After everything…”

  “What choice did I really have, Rue? I made a promise to our mother…”

  “A promise you had no qualms throwing in my face when you left me here,” she reminded him.

  “I know,” he lowered his head. “Maybe that was wrong. Maybe I should have taken you with us, or stayed behind, I don’t know, but I do know this…” He paused for a moment, turning back to look at Frigga again. “I did what I was meant to do and wound up exactly where I was supposed to be.”

  “You love her?” she asked, following the line of his stare.

  “She’s my mate,” he confessed aloud, though he knew his sister must have already sensed that simple truth in the few hours since they’d been reunited.

  “So what, the only way any of us can find our mates is by leaving this place? You’re both gone a few weeks and you come back mated.”

  “You can stay here,” he shrugged, though he didn’t really mean it. “Knut would be more than happy to mate with you.”

  “Knut is a fun tumble, but he is not a permanent option for me.”

  “You might want to tell him that.”

  She rolled her eyes toward the barrel-chested, sleeping warrior snoring beside the fire. “I don’t think I even have a type anymore.”

  “Maybe you will find your type in the south. Someone who was made for you, Rue.”

  “Maybe,” she hefted her shoulders, adding, “or maybe finding someone isn’t even important anymore at all. There are other things,” she realized. “Things far more important than mating. A great darkness is coming, Viln. I can feel it in my bones.”

  “That darkness is already here.” He surveyed the wasteland that had once been their home, feeling a strange hitch of fear in his chest as that realization sunk in again. “War and famine unlike we have ever seen. The extinction of our people…”

  “Then we will fight it,” she decided. After a thoughtful silence, she finally said, “You should get some sleep, brother. We have a long journey ahead of us, and I’d like some time to sit with my thoughts.”

  He didn’t want to leave her side, not after everything he’d gone through to find her again, but when she turned to smile at him, he knew she would still be there when he woke. Lowering his arm over her shoulder, he tugged her close to him and kissed the top of her head.

  “I really am sorry I left you here.”

  “So am I, brother, but what’s done is done, and I forgive you. Tomorrow we will determine our course and I can already tell the road ahead of us will be long and wearisome.”

  With the relief of her forgiveness warming his heart, he made his way toward the fire and laid down beside his mate. For a fleeting moment the world felt almost right again, and he had something he hadn’t let himself experience in a long time: hope.

  He snaked his arm in through Frigga’s, drew her warm body close to his and closed his eyes against the eerie, orange glow of breaking dawn, which the rhythms of his exhausted body told him wasn’t meant to come for several hours yet. He held her in the strange light before dawn, afraid to open his eyes or let her go.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Lorelei did not sleep, and neither did Finn. She laid awake in his arms, still and surprisingly serene as he traced gentle patterns across her bare shoulder until the false sun broke on the horizon beyond the open window. Gold and brilliant orange light cracked across the aubergine mantle of dusk and filled the room with dim hues.

  The morning air brought a chill into the room neither the closeness of their bodies, nor Finn’s natural tendency toward warmth could comfort.

  He was right. She’d come to him in desperation, fearing she might never have the chance to feel the bond between them in the way it was meant to be felt, but he’d held her back, not wanting her to want him out of some twisted sense of obligation inspired by the fear of losing him.

  She loved him. It was the only thing she knew with any certainty. And that she didn’t want to ever be without him.

  Bren’s confession, that it was Finn who wasn’t meant to return from their journey, made her feel sick and uneasy. Even more was his admission without further explanation the loss of their companion was somehow his fault. He said she’d shown him the future the day she plucked him from death, a future never meant to be. Truth be told she was getting a little weary of this future version of herself running rampant through the past, telling people how they were supposed to live their lives.

  Who was she to have that kind of power? And why had she never deigned to appear to herself? It seemed the least she could have done, considering how confusing it was to have an entire race of people privy to some professed wisdom she shared with them, a wisdom that shaped the course of their lives so dramatically that were it not for her intervention Dunvarak and its people would not exist at all.

  The sound of Finn’s stomach rumbling between them brought a smile to her lips, momentarily distracting her from thoughts that only served to confuse and frustrate her. Lifting her head from his shoulder to look down at him, he met her with an amused grin. “Staying up all night always makes me really hungry.”

  “I don’t think it has anything to do with staying up all night,” she mused. “You’re always hungry.

  “True.” The corner of his mouth stretched further along his cheek and she brought her hand up to touch the sinking dimple burrowing into his skin.

  Lowering her head, she touched the tip of his nose with hers before brushing a kiss across his lips.

  “I’m kind of hungry too,” she murmured as she burrowed down into the blankets again and laid her head on the pillow beside his. Nuzzling her nose against his cheek, she kissed him again, grazing the corner of his mouth until he turned in to meet those kisses.

  She hadn’t thought much about her nakedness while he held her in his arms, feeling content and comfortable to be able to lay with him without self-conscious apprehensions eating away at her. It felt so natural, as if the two of them belonged that way, their bodies meant for the uninhibited contact clothing did not allow. His denial of her when she practically threw herself at him only made her want him more.

  It was so different than the guilty impulse she felt the night she nearly gave herself to Trystay. She wanted more than the satisfying of carnal urges stirring in the pit of her stomach every time Finn touched her. She wanted to be one with him, to know and experience him in a way she’d never done with anyone else. She wanted him to be the one, her choice, no one else’s, and it had nothing to do with obligation. Maybe it was the gods’ design, but there was something inside her, maybe the wolf she could scarcely feel, that wanted to share more than just a lifetime with the most infuriating person she’d ever known.

  She wanted Finn to infuriate her forever. To drive her crazy and make her angry beyond the scope of a single lifetime.

  If that wasn’t love, she didn’t know what was.

  Losing him before he was completely hers was not an option, but if the guardian they faced was truly as powerful as both Gwendoliir and Brendolowyn claimed, how were they ever going to get past it and come out alive to face an even more powerful entity?

  How could she, of all people, be expected to save their world?

  Lowering her head against his shoulder again, she closed her eyes. They laid together until the birds outside the open window began to chatter and bodies within the manor house stirred below.
She had no idea what time it was when she finally withdrew from his arms, planted a tender kiss on his chin and crawled out of his bed to find her nightgown on the floor. Back to him as she slipped it over her head and stretched her arms into the sleeves, he shuffled in the bed behind her. When she glanced over her shoulder at him, he’d propped up on his elbow to appreciate her, grinning that smug, infuriating smirk of his.

  “What’s that look for?”

  “Can’t I admire you without getting flack for it?”

  “No,” she laughed. Her bare feet padded across the cold marble floors, skipping onto the plush rug running toward the door across the room. “You can’t.”

  “I can,” he retorted, “and I will. I’d like to see you try to stop me.”

  Gripping the door handle, she beamed back at him again, feeling giddy as he winked at her just before she slid through the door and closed it behind her.

  Giggling a little, she gasped with surprise when she glanced up to see Brendolowyn standing just outside his own door, staring down the hall at her with a startled look that spoke volumes on things she couldn’t even begin to understand.

  He appeared hurt, as though someone knocked the wind out of him, and then as suddenly as she recognized the look, it disappeared as if he’d conjured some spell to conceal his emotions.

  “Good morning.” He offered a slight smile and a brisk nod before turning right and heading toward the stairwell at the end of the hall. He didn’t look back at her, and for that she was glad.

  It occurred to her only after she slipped into her room and closed the door how it must have looked to him, seeing her sneaking out of Finn’s room at daybreak. It shouldn’t have mattered to Brendolowyn one way or the other what she’d been doing in Finn’s room, especially considering the sharing of their tent throughout their journey, but it did matter to him. He was… jealous, and that realization made her feel painfully guilty.

  She wasn’t given much time to think about his feelings, however. She’d only just finished washing and dressing, sitting down to disentangle he mussed braid of her dark red hair when a curt knock rapped across the door. Lowering the hairbrush to the vanity, she padded across the floor in bare feet, expecting to find Finn on the other side and completely taken aback when she discovered their host.

  “Gled meraan,” he greeted with an amicable smile before lowering his head in the traditional Alvarii fashion.

  “Gwendoliir.” She took a step back, dipped her head down and said, “Gled meraan.”

  “Your Alvarii nurse did well to teach you our customs.” His eyes shimmered as he beamed surprise and appreciation. “Did she teach you much of our language?”

  “Some, yes, but hardly enough to follow a meaningful conversation, I’m afraid.”

  “That is a shame. ‘Tis a beautiful language, though perhaps I am a bit biased. I hope I’ve not disturbed your sleep.”

  “No, not at all.”

  “The servants are preparing a meal for you all downstairs, and provisions are being packaged for your departure.”

  “That is unexpected and appreciated.”

  “It is the least we can do,” he conceded. “I hoped before my duties draw me away and you leave this place, the two of us might walk together a while and talk. I am sure you have questions I was unable to address yesterday, perhaps even things you did not feel comfortable discussing in front of your companions. I would like to offer you opportunity to voice your thoughts before it is too late.”

  There were questions. So many of them she doubted he had that kind of time, or he’d even dignify a good many of them with answers. Nevertheless, she agreed to walk with him and moments later the two of them passed through the quiet gardens behind the manor house and made their way toward the peaceful stretch of sandy beach beyond the gates without announcing to anyone where they were going.

  A twinge of guilt and even a little fear moved through her as she fell into step beside him and realized she hadn’t informed her companions she was leaving. Finn was going to be enraged when he discovered she’d just wandered off with a strange elf who promised to answer her questions, even if that strange elf was their host.

  It would only serve to further anger him when he discovered she hadn’t even taken the simple precaution of strapping on her sword belt before leaving. She really was bad about protecting herself. It was a small wonder she wasn’t dead yet, and for a moment as they walked, she contemplated the slim likelihood of actually making it out of Nua Duaan alive.

  Glancing back over her shoulder at the estate, her lack of attention on her own footsteps made her slip a little as she walked. Gwendoliir moved with a certain amount of admirable patience and grace across the sand, slowing his steps to keep pace with her as she slid and drifted across them as if trying to walk on water.

  “This place,” she found her voice after realizing the less she focused on her footsteps, the easier it was to take them without so much effort. “It’s… amazing. How is this even possible? This magic you use?”

  “Surely your nursemaid told you stories of the Alvarii when you were a girl. We were born of creation itself, the magic of life is in our very blood, so as we walk, life itself springs from our every footstep.”

  Lorelei turned a disbelieving eye on the seer. “If that’s the case there should be a trail of flowers sprouting behind us, shouldn’t there?”

  Gwendoliir chuckled. “The length of our lives has given us plenty of time to learn to control our gifts. Magic is an ongoing lesson one never stops learning, whether he be Alvarii or some other gifted individual.”

  “My experience with magic is… well, practically nonexistent. It’s always fascinated me, but Pahjah was unable to demonstrate its power, and though I pressed her for information every chance I got, she didn’t dare invoke the wrath of the king to indulge my curiosity. There was a cook in the kitchens once, an Alvarii slave who answered a few of my questions, but she didn’t last long. I don’t know if word got back to the king, or if she finally found a way to escape, but…” Tilting her head downward again, she watched the collection of minuscule grains shift and give beneath her boots. “Could anyone learn magic?”

  “With proper dedication and training, yes, but surely you have other, more pressing matters you’d like to discuss with me.”

  “I suppose I do, yes.” Clearing the ache from her throat, they walked on for quite a ways before she finally found the courage to ask what was really on her mind. “Is there… really a piece of a god inside me?”

  “If the stories are true, there is.”

  “Why didn’t Yovenna tell me? And please, don’t use the whole excuse that revealing things could change them in unsavory ways. I’m supposed to change things, aren’t I? The more I know, the easier it will be.”

  The seer did not answer right away, and when she chanced a glance up at him she watched his face contort in deep thought as he carefully chose his words. “I do not know why Yovenna chose to withhold that from you, considering she shared with you the nature of your task. Perhaps she was not meant to tell you.”

  “That is sort of a cheap excuse, I think.”

  “Maybe it is, but it is not my excuse to make, Lorelei. My awarenesses are my own, some of them are glimpses of Yovenna, yes, but to try and guess her personal motivations would be foolish on my part. I am many things, young woman. Old among them, but I do not deign often to foolishness.”

  “I’m sorry, I did not mean…”

  “Do not apologize. You have every right to ask these questions. I am simply not the one to answer them for you.”

  Once more they were quiet, the rolling hush of the sea sweeping in along the shore coupling with gull cries as they walked. Her thoughts felt like the sea inside her mind, barreling in, racing back out before she could grasp them and form valid questions that would actually help her in the long run.

  “All right, so this cycle we are trapped in, how many times have we done it? Obviously I’m not capable of carrying out the task requ
ired if we have to keep repeating it. Wouldn’t it make more sense for Heidr to choose another champion?”

  “The cycle has endured for time immemorial. There are none who yet live that remember when the curse was cast, and the keeping of the ancient tomes is inalterable as far as we know. Time and again we are presented with the same information, the same set of circumstances, and as seers we are granted sporadic glimpses at a clear path to the end of events. The consequences could prove disastrous if we were to share too much of what we see…”

  “Right, I get that, but how could consequences be any more disastrous than failure and repetition of the cycle? Isn’t the whole point to break the cycle?”

  “It is our nature as mortal beings to perceive time in a linear fashion, meaning we believe it moves in a forward continuum, starting at the beginning, going through the middle and arriving at the end of each life. We measure our days in forward moving time, by the minute, hour, day, month, year… But what we often fail to take into consideration are the branches that occur in between those linear patterns. The slightest deviation from a clear path alters the foreseen outcome, and so a seer’s ability to predict those outcomes is a grave responsibility. A single hesitation, the most minute alteration of events could be disastrous.”

  “I understand, but I can’t help thinking it might work to my advantage, to everyone’s advantage, to know where I went wrong so I can avoid making the same mistakes. Don’t we want to change the outcome? Isn’t that our goal?”

  “Has it occurred to you since you started down this path it was not you who deviated from it and altered the outcome?”

  “Well… no.” Though she instantly thought of Brendolowyn’s admission the night before. He said it was his fault Finn did not return from Sorrow’s Peak. “But even if it was not me who went wrong, it shouldn’t matter in the end. Yovenna said I was born to face the serpent. You told me my father bargained with Heidr and my journey was part of His plan. If I don’t see that through and the cycle isn’t broken, that is my fault. Is it not?”