The Darkest Night (The Orien Trilogy Book 2)

by Catherine Wilson

  “Bates?” I question, wondering when in Ashen my father’s most trusted ally had time to discuss frivolous things such as hope with my mother. “I must say I find myself in the same predicament, as you’re no longer making sense.”

  Bates groans, as if he knew this would be my reaction all along, and reaches for the small handle resting on the door. When he leans in close to my face, the torch’s flames dance across his cheeks, highlighting deep lines of sorrow and things unseen. “Even the darkest night has light,” he says, turning the latch and flooding my thoughts with the view of my dreams.

  Before me, bright stars beam across a brilliant sky, each one twinkling to its own rhythm in the dark, black sea. Below, the lights of Orien decorate the ground like a patchwork of yellow leaves, random and perfect all the same. It’s too dark to see the colors Aras praised on our way through these gates, but from this position, I can imagine them anyway. Blues, reds, and vibrant greens. And they’re more than worth saving from the very lunatic who calls himself their king.

  “It’s beautiful,” I whisper, knowing my words alone will never do it justice and wishing more than anything that Vivi was by my side. If anyone deserves to see this, it’s her.

  “The Orien sky has always been breathtaking, and that’s one of the reasons why Ingrid came here every night. But mainly it was because she always wished to be nearer to you.”

  His words ring with sincerity, and my throat closes around the cautious warm feelings they bring. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to understand that, all this time, my dead ghost of a mother cared for me, and I never could do the one thing she needed from me all along. I never could love her back. Perhaps now, perhaps tonight, I can change.

  “But that wasn’t what I brought you up here to see. It’s this.” His finger darts out across my vision, pulling my eyes to the northern forest. Right over the trees, peeking between the tall mountains not far from here, there is a light. But not just any light. Hundreds of them, flashing up into the dark like painted flowers blooming in the sky. And I’ve never seen anything more magnificent.

  “What is it?” I ask as my eyes drink in the vibrant lights that seem so close, yet so far away.

  “Firelights,” he answers, placing a warm hand on my shoulder.

  Astonished, I look up into his eyes, only to find the softest of smiles racing across his lips. “Theron’s firelights, to be exact. And tonight, they celebrate, Princess Brave. They celebrate, because the Orien queen lives.”

  Five

  “Come now, daughter. You seem rather distracted today,” my father purrs from the comfort of his tiered throne, watching with amusement while my boots wear tracks across the red carpet where I pace before him.

  I pause long enough for him to catch the contempt in my gaze, only to resume my march of displeasure. As if being cast with the role of evil spawn doesn’t come with its own host of distractions. Not to mention the missive with my name on it that no one, not even my blasted father, seems keen on mentioning. But if I’m really being honest, that’s not even what’s bothering me at the present. It’s the fact that he’s called me here at this wretched hour and has offered no explanation since. So early, I hardly had time to wake Vivi from her exhausted sleep and tell her our mother lives.

  Distracted? Humph. Right now, I’m worried Vivi has built her own set of wings and is taking flight across the Orien sea of trees as we speak.

  “How very observant of you. Perhaps I’m tired. It does seem a bit early for the conjuring of evil magic, don’t you agree?”

  His satisfaction surfaces with the wickedest of smiles, and flawless, white teeth shine like a warning I should have seen coming long ago. Today is different; I can feel it in my bones. In the very way my magic sparks within my chest and fizzles to an innocent, burning smoke at my palms. Yes, today is different, for he won’t take no for an answer.

  “Tired?” He laughs, pulling the perfect edges of his dark beard taut against his cheeks. “On the contrary, I would imagine that your little adventures of late might leave you quite tempered.”

  Before I can think better of it, my stance stiffens, and out of the corner of my eye, I see the pleasure stretch across his face. If he’s referring to our visit to his chambers, then I’m perfectly fine with continuing to play his incessant games. But if he’s referring to my late-night trip with Bates, then that’s a whole different game entirely. A game I have no interest in playing—at least not yet.

  “What?” he asks, watching for any more clues in my movement. “Did you really not believe Aras would tell me? After your interesting run-in yesterday, I can’t believe you still think so highly of him.”

  “Oh, trust me. I think a lot of things about Aras. None of which you are entitled to know,” I bite back as a cooling relief settles in my chest. For now, he doesn’t seem to know about Bates’ unusual kindness, and I aim to keep it that way.

  Knox grunts, as if he expected this much, and rises from his cushioned throne, taking the steps down to me with a calm and calculated precision. Today, his shoulders are bare of the thick, red robe I’m so used to seeing him wear. Instead, his tall frame is wrapped from head to toe in the darkest of blacks. A long, finely woven tunic with a high, decorated collar surrounds his sharp cheeks, and elaborate gold buttons span the front of his chest. His matching, tailored pants disappear into his high, black boots, and before I know it, he’s upon me. The amusement now wiped from his face.

  “So tell me then, whose grand idea was it to sneak into my chambers and rifle through my personal things? I have my suspicions, but I’d rather hear it from your lips.”

  This close, the scent of smoke, tinged with the fresh smell of decay, accosts my nose, and I fight the urge to gag against the gold buttons engraved across his chest. It’s the mark of his magic, I realize, and the sick reminder of a cruel punishment handed out not more than a day ago. If he thinks this intimidates me, makes me want to run from this cursed room with tears burning from my eyes, then he’s right. But it’s still not enough to persuade me to rat out my sister.

  “Mine, obviously. I thought maybe I could find something of interest.” My eyes shift to the two panthers, poised and ready by his throne, as if their stone bodies could rise up and attack on will. “Since you seem to have such an adoration for panthers, I thought I could find some clues within your chambers that might allow me to make your dream come true.” I measure his building fury with the thinness of his lips, determined to push on no matter the cost. “I know you can’t wait to run the woods like the black cats you so admire. Though I didn’t find anything useful on this little adventure, I know it’s only a matter of time before I do. Maybe then I can deliver on your greatest desire.”

  His gray eyes narrow, the darkness swirling in their stare, and a look of confusion passes over his rigid face. “Is that what this was about?” he breathes. “You think you can actually undo my magic and save Emory from his fate? My child, you are strong, yes, but you’ll never be stronger than me.”

  The words slide with ease off his tongue, and though I keep my returning stare a blank, perfect calm, on the inside, I’m a brewing storm. My father lies, and he knows it. I can see it in the way his lips pinch, and his dark eyes narrow with distaste.

  He wants his daughter’s power, but he fears it, too.

  “Then I guess I’ll have to prove you wrong,” I whisper, choosing to let him believe this is more about Papa and me than it is about Vivi and Aras.

  Before I have the chance to breathe, his hand is upon me, pinching my chin as his heated nails dig into my flesh. “You listen to me, little girl,” he seethes, the spit from his words flying across my cheeks. “You are nothing without me, but I am still everything without you. Theron has our queen, and, with or without your magic, I will lead our people to attack. And do you know what will happen then, when our people take to the woods?”

  A soft whimper leaves my lips as the fire begins to lick from his fingertips, much as it did when he burned my pale skin on
the day we first met, and although I’ve never had to call on her before, I call on her now. I beg her.

  Oh, Mother, help me. Please, show me your strength.

  At my desperate thoughts, a cold chill washes over my skin, starting at my core and rushing to my limbs. My heated palms turn to ice, and though I can’t see my face, I imagine it whiter than a ghost. Where fire once burned my chin, a cool relief now builds in its absence.

  My Theron blood has fought back and not a moment too soon.

  Knox’s eyes narrow at the cooling of his fingers, and his grip tightens around my chin, as if my very bones will crush beneath his weight. “You don’t know the answer, do you?” he says, his hot breaths pounding against my lips. “Then let me be the first to enlighten you, my child. Thousands will die and wither at Theron’s silver gates. For we are not a warring people, Brave, and with my kind in control, we haven’t needed to be for some time. And those poor, innocent souls? Those young men and women who will try to storm those gates in the name of their queen, do you know what they’ll say in their dying breath? When they call out to the stars and beg for death? They’ll scream your name, Penelope Brave. They’ll scream for your help, because even with all of that magic, you still refused to help, and the rivers will run red with your betrayal.”

  The cold, so different from the warring heat, molds against my skin and freezes my soul from within. Its protection creates a barrier for my heart, saving me from the inside out. His cruel words begin to slow, along with the pounding of my pulse, disappearing into a fog I hope to never see through again. Knox’s fingers begin to steam as his heat battles against my ice, and his flame sputters for life. Anger flashes in his eyes, and his lips tip down to my ear.

  “So determined, little one, even in the presence of your demise. If gnawing guilt over a thousand innocents won’t break your spirit, then perhaps we’ll have to find the few innocents who will. The few who matter most.”

  “You called, My King?” a deep voice interrupts, causing Knox’s grip to slip from my chin.

  “Ah, Aras, right on time as always,” he says, allowing his eyes to roam my reddened skin. Skin, for once not reddened by heat, but from a battle against the cold. “I was having a little chat with Brave about some of her more unbecoming flaws. Ones that can be fixed if provided with the right motivation, I’m sure.”

  My chin finally lowers with a lurch, and I fight to keep my breaths even as Aras’ footsteps come to a halt by my side. Without a glance, I feel the heat of his gaze as he takes me in—battered, red, and slightly blue. A heat that doesn’t burn my skin with fire, but burns my heart from within. I’ll die before I meet his gaze, not only because it will hurt me to see the vacantness there, but because I also don’t want Knox to see the longing in my eyes.

  Aras cannot be one of the few who matters most. Not anymore.

  “Is she blushing?”

  Knox laughs, loud and obnoxious, sending chills of a different kind down my arms. “No, she’s not blushing. Merely testing the limits of her power.” His eyes find mine once more, and this time, the darkness threatens to swallow them whole. “A grave disappointment, as most with Theron blood, I’ve found.”

  Defiance flashes in my glare, and an even deeper satisfaction builds in the rising of his lips. “Do we not agree, daughter?”

  “Oh, we agree,” I say, never prouder of the blood that pumps within my veins. “We most certainly do.”

  “Good.” He looks away, patting Aras on the back. “I have a new assignment for you. It’s one I’m sure you’ll find as unpleasant as any other ally amongst my inner circle, but I promise to reward you, should you do as I please.”

  Aras nods, looking into Knox’s eyes like he is his savior and not the author of his doom. “Of course. Anything.”

  “Very well, Aras,” he continues, as if the poor boy ever had a choice in the matter. “You are to look after my two daughters. Watch their every step. If they attempt to explore my chambers again, you will stop them and inform me of it. Furthermore, if you hear or see any suspicious behavior that could be of a danger to the Orien kingdom, again, you will stop them and inform me of it.” His eyes leave Aras, passing over me with the coolest of disregards. “But truthfully, it’s not the little one I’m concerned about. It’s the one who thinks too much of her worth.”

  “Consider it done,” Aras answers as our gaze finally meets. “But you’re right. It will be unpleasant at best.” His clear, blue eyes hold nothing but a deep, overwhelming concern, and though I want to believe his worry is for me, I know it isn’t. He fears for the kingdom.

  He fears me, and it’s this added distrust that nearly sends my shaky knees to the floor.

  “Wonderful!” Knox claps, turning to walk back up the few steps to his throne. “If we are all in agreeance, then it seems we are settled here. Aras, why don’t you wait outside and escort Brave back to her chambers? I would hate for her to get lost along the way.”

  “As you wish.” His eyes skirt over mine with clear disgust before he turns his back and walks out the tall, red doors, taking my bleeding heart along with him.

  “They tend to take on my own feelings in the beginning.”

  My head whips back to the throne, but Knox’s eyes aren’t directed toward me. They’re watching the red doors as they close behind Aras’ frame. It takes me a moment to realize he’s talking about his inner circle. The very men whose will he takes. He’s talking about Aras.

  “However I feel about a person is the typical response for them as well.”

  His lips tip up in a slight grin as the rest of his words sneak out into the tense space between us, and now that the cold has released me from its grip, I can feel the fire fighting for control once again. While I knew Aras would be different, I never anticipated how awful this turn of events could be. How awful he could be. But now it all makes sense. He’s acting out my father’s true feelings, whether he wants to or not. In some strange way, it changes things for me—makes it easier, even. As Vivi said, it’s not Aras who we should be angry with, it’s Knox. Now if I can only find a way to close my eyes and plug my ears whenever I’m in Aras’ company, I suppose we’ll all be fine. Or as fine as two lost loves can be. If Knox thinks he’s going to use Aras against me anymore than he already has, he is in for a rude awakening. Poor Aras has already given away too much for me, and I won’t have him give his life as well.

  “But then again, they always despise the very person who they once loved the most. A tragedy really, how quickly their feelings change. It’s as if that person represents an ugly unknown for them. Familiar, yet a stranger all the same. I can’t imagine how agonizing it must feel to loathe someone whom your body fights to love.”

  Knox’s face settles with knowing contentment, ready to watch me unravel at the mere hint of our past. That once, Aras loved me, and now his mind hates me for it. But what he doesn’t understand is I know the feeling all too well. In fact, I was there not very long ago. For while I was content to dislike my mother, my heart longed for her all the same, until one day, that love won out.

  For the sake of everything that was once us, I have to believe Aras’ heart won’t give up either.

  “How very comforting,” I say, twisting my finger around the end of my braid and ignoring Knox’s painful prods. “And here I thought we had a perfectly normal father/daughter relationship blossoming between us. I never would have guessed that underneath your kindness there lies a growing pit of hate.”

  This time, Knox doesn’t seem fazed by my sharp tongue. Instead, he settles back into his chair and crosses his arms over his chest in thought. “Hate is such a strong word, child. Dislike? Mistrust? Yes, those words would do. But I have a feeling once you find the right motivation, we’ll get along fine.”

  Heat coils around my lungs, and I fight the desire to suck in a heavy breath and run screaming for the doors. “Oh, Father,” I drone, hoping to hide the slight tremble of my voice. “I wish I could say I agree with your wicked tales, but as Ara
s told me not more than a day ago, I shouldn’t lie, because I’m not very good at it. And though it nearly kills me to say so, I think he’s right. Goodbye for now, Knox. I trust you’ll call when you require my services again.”

  Turning on my heel, I walk toward the doors, the pound of my boots the only sound that reaches my ears. Just as my hand latches onto the handle, his voice calls out. Cool, measured, and malicious all the same.

  “You did well today, daughter. Your mother’s blood still seems a bit weak, but tomorrow we shall try again. I should mention Aras told me of your little trick with the knob. Very clever, I must say, though it only proves what I already suspected. Be prepared to show me the depths of your power, child. I very much look forward to it.”

  “As do I,” I call over my shoulder as I exit through the door, not once daring to look back.

  Six

  The doors slam behind me so hard that the candles atop the large, twisted fixtures shake with the force. The grand hallway remains empty, and the steps below reach out, calling me down a path of which I know I could escape.

  Oh, how I wish I could heed their advice.

  Refusing to give in, I close my eyes, resting my back against the red wood. Now that I understand more of my mother’s magic, the fear I felt for Knox and his men has changed. Lessened, if possible. Mother’s powers are proof I can protect myself, while I already knew some of how to fight back. Most importantly, maybe I can begin to protect those who matter most.

  Knox’s cruel words threaten to resurface with my thoughts, slithering back like evil snakes of magic, looking for cracks along my soul. But for now, those slits have vanished, determination filling them whole and blocking out the dark. Assured my weak knees won’t try to make a break for it, I open my eyes, valiantly ignoring the empty steps. A wave of pride washes over me at the ease it takes to turn and trudge up the accompanying staircase to my side. After all, if I’m going to escape this place, I can’t do it without Vivi. Or Aras. And for some illogical reason, Bates.