Tate let go. “I'm not sure you should stop them. This is a lot bigger than Rhaya. I know you want to keep her safe, but whether you like it or not, she plays a major role in this war. They all do. Rhaya has a solid plan, and one that doesn’t leave you out, but protects you from repercussions. Maybe you should let them take the lead on this. The Prophecy is a tricky thing, Rae. You know that.”
Raemann did. He leaned back against the wall, knocking his head against it as though it might help to clear his mind of all his worries. “Sometimes I think it would be easier for us if we were as emotionless as people think we are. They can't go there on their own, Tate. It's too much of a risk. And Varrick can't pull it off on his own if he runs into trouble. We already know that Kellen has managed to kill a Cyneward.”
“I know,” Tate pressed his hands together pleadingly. “But if you get caught plotting with the girls, then you’ll be blamed. All I'm saying is that if we work together and keep our heads down, we might be able to find a way to rescue Ariana with minimal risks to us all.”
“Us?”
Tate looked at him dubiously. “Did you really think I wouldn't be going with you to rescue my best friend?”
Raemann gave him a dimpled grin. “Fair enough. So I guess you’ll have to be our go-between.”
“I can do that,” Tate agreed. “Just as soon as Zelene finds out that I'm actually involved . . . ”
Raemann clapped him on the back. “Good luck with that one, friend. You'll need it.”
***
Zelene sat on the bed next to her father, holding his hand. Bianca had given him another tonic to help him rest, but Zelene suspected the paion was simply looking for excuses to keep him safe in the leigheas. Zelene wasn’t complaining; she appreciated that Bianca was looking out for her father. She chided herself for taking so long to figure it all out. She should have known better.
“How's he doing?” a woman asked from the doorway.
Zelene smiled at the redheaded mystery woman from the kitchens. “Hey. Long time no see.”
The woman shrugged, but made no move to enter. “You've been busy. And very brave, I might add. I'm very proud of you.”
Zelene flushed at the compliment and looked at her father sadly. “Thanks, I guess. It's really not that big of a deal. It's like you said: Everyone deserves to have someone fighting for them.” She turned back to the doorway, but the woman was gone. She stood up and walked into the hallway to look for her, but the woman had disappeared. “Huh. Rude.”
“What's rude?” Bianca asked and handed her a tray full of food.
Zelene lifted her brow at the tray. “Nothing. What's this for?”
“Your patient needs to eat, but none of my other galenas will see to him, and neither will the Donnfay since he took part in such violence.”
“But he doesn't remember—”
Bianca held up her hand haughtily. “When you wish to argue with the Donnfay over their ways, be my guest. But I don't have time. Now please take care of your unnamed patient. And while you are at it, convince him to take a name. I'm tired of referring to him as 'That young man who can't remember his name'.”
“But I was visiting with my father,” Zelene argued, but Bianca was already halfway down the hall. “Fine,” she muttered to herself and headed for her patient's room. She passed one of the Tainted on her way, and the young man kissed his three fingers and placed them on his heart when they locked eyes, then winked at her and kept moving. She grinned, understanding his meaning. She felt proud.
“What are you so pleased with yourself about?” her amnesiac patient asked her with an amused tone when she entered his room.
She set the tray of food down on the bedside table. “Can't a girl be happy to have dinner with one of her favorite patients?”
“I'm only your favorite because I'm the only one you can get away with talking to,” he teased and leaned over to inspect the food. He inhaled the savory flavors, his stomach rumbling impatiently.
“Are you complaining?”
“You brought me food. You'll be hard pressed to hear a complaint out of me after that.”
“So what's new?” she asked and handed him his plate.
“Nothing, to be honest. It's sort of boring here. And seeing as how you are the only person brave enough to visit me aside from the paion, I don't think I'll have much to report that you didn't tell me yourself.”
“You noticed that, huh?”
He nodded, swirling the mashed potatoes around with his fork. “They're afraid of me. Even the paion views me with a wary eye.” He glanced up to her, his thick blonde brows pulled down in question. “But not you. Why is that?”
She shrugged. “Why should I be?”
“You know the answer to that as well as I do. With the things I've been remembering . . . all the fighting, the blood . . . ” He looked down as he trailed off. “I've done horrible things. I can understand why they are afraid of me. I'm a monster.” He lifted his eyes to her again. “What I don't understand is why you aren't.”
“Because you aren't a monster,” she said after a moment's pause. “You can't define yourself by these few things that you remember. So you've done bad things. We all have.”
“I've killed people,” he said with a pained face. “I know it now. I can see my hands around their necks, or my blades in their throats. I watched them die.”
She drew in a deep breath before she responded with a shaky voice, “So have I.” She could feel her hands trembling at the thought, remembering the feeling of the gun in her hand and the way her finger had so easily pulled the trigger. “I killed someone too. Do you think I'm a monster now?”
“I could never think that of you,” he said quietly with a shake of the head. “You are by far one of the kindest, most gentle people I've known since I woke up here. I'm sure you didn't want to kill anyone.”
She placed her hand over his and squeezed it. “And I know you didn't either. Don't you remember what you said the other night after your dream? The man you were fighting was a friend of yours. You didn't want to fight each other but you had to. I know the things you're remembering are terrible and I don't doubt that you've been through a lot, but you can't let those few memories or the way the idiots around here are acting change the way you look at yourself. There's more to you than just a few memories.”
He gripped her hand firmly, as though it was a lifeline for him as he struggled against the tide of sorrow threatening to drown him. “Thank you. It's nice to have someone on my side here.”
“Well, get used to it. Bianca told me that you are officially my responsibility. Which is a good thing, because like I said—the others are idiots. You'd be a goner if they were taking care of you.”
“Well, I am honored to be in such capable hands.” He released her from his hold and turned back to his food. “You have no idea how good it is to have a friend, to have at least one familiar face. I feel like I've woken up from some mysterious sleep to this world that I know hardly anything about. And I have no idea how I fit into it. At the risk of sounding anything short of masculine, it's a bit terrifying.”
“I know exactly what you mean.” She had experienced the same exact phenomena when she had been taken to Anscombe months ago. At his curious look, she quickly covered. “Coming here was weird. I wasn't raised anywhere near Anscombe and when I got here, everything changed for me. It feels like it was a different life, like I watched someone else lead it. Everything is so different for me now.”
“I can imagine,” he said sympathetically. “I know your kind are shunned from an early age. It must have been very difficult to leave behind everything you knew and everyone you cared about to come here. But it was the right choice. The way the others live . . . well, it doesn't help people to feel any better about them.”
“What other choice do they have?” she asked defensively. “They're shunned from childhood, like you said. Not everyone can get a job in a cushy palace like this and let me tell you that this place isn't exactly living the li
fe either. No one even looks at you. It's living without existing.”
“I look at you,” he rebutted and then stammered on. “I mean, other people do too, obviously. The paion sees you and trusts you enough to give you responsibilities. And didn't you just say that one of the Duillaine Ainnir stood up for your kind entirely? It can't be that bad here. And whatever the problems are here, it's better than being out there on your own.”
“You're right,” she admitted as her righteous indignation deflated at his encouraging attitude. “At least I have friends here. I'm not alone.” She lost herself in her thoughts, knowing her statement held more truth than she could explain to him. For the first time since arriving, she began to feel as though she might have a place here.
“One of the Tainted with friends?”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” she returned with amusement. “You’re my friend.”
“Oh, we're friends, are we?” he said with a smirk.
“Oh, I see. You don't want to be friends with me? Because I can go and leave you to the galenas.”
“No,” he laughed and reached out to stop her when she turned to leave. “I just generally like to know the names of my friends, that's all. And seeing as how I still don't know yours…”
It was an innocent enough question, but one Zelene knew she couldn’t exactly answer without completely lying to him. He still remembered bits and pieces of this world, and with her luck, her name would be one of those random bits of information that he happened to retain. “I’ll make a deal with you. When you remember your name, I’ll tell you mine. But not before.”
He shook his head but grinned in response. “Very well. Or I could just ask the paion.”
“Thanks for the warning, cheater,” she teased. “I’ll make sure Bianca keeps my secret safe.”
He chuckled at his own mistake. “I’ll have to be more careful around you, apparently. You’re too smart for your own good.”
“I get that all the time, but I never tire of hearing it,” she said and they both laughed. She liked seeing him laugh. He had such a nice smile, and his eyes got brighter the moment his dimples showed. She blushed at the thought, and then chalked it up to being happy to see him in better spirits.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The leaves crunched underfoot as Alec and Ariana continued down the trail. Alec didn't like taking such an obvious path, but he was still searching for real shelter along the way. So far, he hadn't had much luck. Granted, he hadn't been able to scout much with Ariana in her current state. She was definitely sick, even though she still argued with him when he mentioned it.
He put his hand on the small of her back and guided her off the trail. “I think we should take a break. I need to figure out where we should go from here.” It was a lie; he knew exactly where to go but he also didn't feel like fighting with her over whether or not she needed to rest.
She nodded weakly and sat down in front of a nearby tree, leaning back against it. “Just for a little while.”
Alec paced nearby, mulling over his next move. Having eaten and slept very little over the past few days, he was too weak to be able to use any animals to help his search. He could scout better without Ariana slowing him down, but he was wary of leaving her alone in her weakened state. Looking at her as she began to drift off to sleep against the tree—her cheeks flushed and a light sheen of sweat across her forehead—he knew he had to risk it. He walked over and knelt down in front of her, shaking her knee gently to get her attention.
“I'm awake,” she murmured.
“I'm going to tuck you away into the bushes over there and run ahead to find us some shelter, all right?” When she made no move to argue, he knew she must be worse off than he thought.
He helped her to her feet and then half-carried her to the bushes. He guided her down to the leafy ground, resting her head on the pack of supplies and tucking one of the blankets tightly around her. She mumbled her thanks and drifted off to sleep as he stood there watching her with concern.
Then, Alec raced off as fast as he could. He wasn't sure what he was looking for at this point, but Ariana needed more than a good night's rest. She needed a healer. But where would he find a galena or paion? Moreover, where would he find one he could trust not to turn them over to Kellen?
He stumbled on a stilted one-room house that looked like it hadn't been used lately. It sat feebly on four large, ancient tree stumps. Their roots still reached into the earth like claws and lifted the small home off the ground by only about a foot or so. From what he could tell, it looked to have been abandoned but recently. There was no sign of a fire in the hearth, no food to be spoken of. But there was a cot along the wall opposite the door. He did his best to tidy it up, taking the sheets outside to shake off any dust and disposing of the large spider that had taken refuge in the corner of the room. He then ran back to retrieve Ariana.
Her breathing was heavy and labored and her hair soaked with sweat. She was still as can be—completely unresponsive to the gentle shake he tried to wake her with. Panic began to set in and he shook her harder. Her eyes cracked open, but only for a few seconds before closing again as she slipped back into unconsciousness. He lifted her into his arms and ran off with her faster than he’d ever run before.
In the house, he quickly laid her across the bed, then brushed the hair away matted to her face. He felt the heat of her fever when his fingers drifted across her forehead.
“Alec?” she asked.
He knelt beside the bed, taking her hand in his. “Shh . . . I'm right here. It's going to be okay.”
“Don't leave me,” she begged him, her round eyes darting around in fear of shadows only she could see.
He could see that her fever had gotten worse. He felt paralyzed with helplessness even as he murmured reassuring words to her. “I'm not going anywhere. I promise. I won't let you go. I will never let you go.” As he said the words, the hope of her promises to save him welled in his chest. But if she was going to survive this, he would have to find help. “Just close your eyes. It's going to be fine. Just get some sleep, okay?”
Ariana nodded, her eyelids weighing down heavily as her head lolled to the side and sleep took hold.
Alec let his head drop onto her arm, struggling to think of what to do. There was a well out back, so he went there to retrieve some water. He stalked around impatiently, inspecting the plants in a nearby overgrown garden, but he didn't know the first thing about the healing arts. He returned to her bedside with a pail of cool water. Seeing no cloths in sight, he ripped the sleeve from his shirt and soaked it in the liquid, and draped it across her forehead. Then he waited.
He paced the floors, constantly checking her fever, but nothing changed. She would moan in her sleep, or whimper, but she wouldn't wake up now. He sat down next to her, holding her hand in his. Feeling his strength renew, he decided to use some of the nearby animal life to scout the area. As more time passed, he widened his search, never growing tired. His energy seemed to be increasing with his worry for Ariana. He opened his eyes and checked on her once more.
“Come on, Ariana,” he urged her quietly. “We've been through far worse than this. If you don't start getting better soon, I'm going to have to do something really stupid that you're going to yell at me for.”
“Something worse than breaking into someone's home, you mean?” a rickety voice asked from the doorway.
Alec flew up, immediately taking a defensive stance in front of Ariana and wondering how the old woman before him had been able to sneak up on him. She was a short and frail woman, though rounded about the middle, and using a cane to support her weight. Her black hair was streaked with silver and pulled back into a loose bun. Her long chin supported a set of pursed lips that he suspected rarely ever smiled.
“I'm very sorry,” he said calmly, trying to show that he wasn't a threat while still remaining between Ariana and the old woman. “The house looked abandoned and my friend is very sick. She needs rest. Please help us.”
&n
bsp; She gave a crooked grin. “Very nicely worded, young Cyneward. Since you did not frame your words as a question, I will give you the aid you seek.”
His gray eyes rounded. “How do you know what I am?” He had been afraid someone along the way might recognize him for his race, but never for the calling that he had tried so desperately to run away from.
“I know what you are, but clearly you do not know what I am,” she said with warning.
He immediately crouched in front of Ariana, ready to jump to her defense. “What are you?”
“I mean you no harm,” she said. She hobbled inside and sat on the stool in front of the fireplace. Flames immediately filled the hearth, though the woman paid more attention to Alec than the fire she just conjured. “Nor do I mean any harm to the young Duillaine Ainnir. I have been expecting you for quite some time, young Cyneward.”
“Stop calling me that,” he growled.
She turned her head, scrutinizing him in such a way that left Alec feeling almost naked before her eyes. “And what should I call you then?”
“My name is Alec,” he answered somewhat awkwardly. “Tell me what you are.”
The old woman rose to her feeble feet with her cane and bowed her head to show her agreement. “Since you did not frame it as a query, I will tell you. I have many names. Some call me Crone, some call me the Deceiver or the Trickster, some used to simply call me Grandma,” she said wistfully. “I prefer Luna, as I find it quite fitting. Your people, however, call me something different.”
Alec thought about the house they were in, the old woman's appearance, and her aversion to questions. “Babiaga,” he gasped, his heart threatening to break through his chest. She was the creature from his childhood nightmares, the monster under the bed pulled out to keep young Athucreans in line. “You eat the souls of weary travelers.”
“Yes and no,” she replied, resting both hands on her cane. “Some ask too many questions. Some don't keep their promises. But those who are careful of being too inquisitive and those who do as I ask of them in return . . . I happily give them my aid and send them on their way. Which will you choose to be, young Cyneward?”
Heirs of War, Crown of Flames Page 21