“Why, we’d thank them, of course!” Vivi sings, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward her mystery stream.
Behind us, I hear the sound of Aras and Sireen’s footsteps as they struggle to catch up, and for the first time since Bates breathed his last breath, I smile.
Sixteen
Though the frigid dip in Orien’s waters served me well, I must say our sleeping quarters did not. I’m not sure if it was the unnerving stare of Aras as I twisted and turned along the rough forest floor, or the soft snores of Vivi as she sprawled out blissfully underneath the canopy of stars.
Either way, I’m more than a little annoyed.
“Don’t look so grumpy, Penelope Brave,” Aras calls over my shoulder, causing my chin to pop up from where it had been dropping dangerously close to my chest. Just as our first day out, he hasn’t spoken much during our ride, and I’m astonished he has wasted his breath to address me at all. “Perhaps you’d feel better if you had taken the opportunity to sleep.”
I grunt in response, quite sure the exact same could be said for Aras. If he hadn’t have stayed up all night, afraid to blink in case I decided to run off like a fool in the dark, then maybe he’d seem a little more pleasant, too. Although, if I’m being honest, I can’t blame my odd mood on lack of sleep alone. I know it has more to do with the approaching kingdom and all the poor souls who lie in wait.
Papa. Ian. My mother. And though I can hardly bear to think it, the ghost of Bates.
All the people whom I am expected to destroy, but will put myself in harm’s way before I would even consider it. But then, there is also Aras. The Orien guard who has lost his mind, and according to Vivi, I’m the only one who can help him get it back. If the mounting fear that boils in my chest has anything to do with pressure, then I’m pretty sure I’m feeling an awful lot of it, and I don’t think it will get better anytime soon.
“I’m bound to find rest in Theron,” I say, allowing my gaze to float up to the trees. “Please promise me we don’t have much farther to go.”
My words come out with more irritation than I intended. I wince, but if Aras notices, he decides to overlook my wrath. “Oh, don’t you worry, Princess. It won’t be long now. We’ll be stopping at the base of that mountain.” He motions around me, pointing to a large rising of trees no more than half a day’s ride away. “Once we arrive, we’ll make camp and let our horses loose. From there on, we’ll travel by foot.”
“By foot?” Vivi shrieks from her mount by our side, her fingers instinctively falling down to trail across the beast’s black coat. “I’m not leaving my horse stranded in the woods so we can spend days climbing up a mountainside. You do realize I’ve never left the castle’s gates? I’m sorry, Aras, but I’d rather go around that blasted mountain than struggle across it without my horse.”
I lean forward, sending Vivi an apologetic frown, but bless the great Ashen skies above, that mountain can’t get here soon enough. I’ll be sorry to see our horses go, but Aras and I need some space, and lots of it.
“Actually, Viviana,” Aras mocks as he tightens his grip around my waist and pushes our horse forward with a frightening zeal. “You happen to be wrong on both accounts. We aren’t spending days climbing a mountainside, and we aren’t going to trudge around it either. We’re going through it.”
And with that, we surge forward, with nothing but a furious little sister and a nauseated handmaiden to jostle in our wake.
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“I still don’t think it’s right,” Vivi says as she rolls out her thin mat by the base of the wooded mountain. Her dark hair twists around her head in heaping waves, even more unruly than usual now that she’s taken down her braid. I run a comforting hand through the knotted nest, and she drops her pallet, pulling me into a warm hug. “I mean, I know the horse will wait for me; he promises he will. But I truly feel bad for leaving him to wander on his own.”
Her words send a funny spark across my heart, and my brows rise with confusion. “Your horse promised you something?”
Even by the low light of the fire, I catch the way Vivi’s eyes widen for a moment, and her cheeks turn a light shade of pink. “Not exactly,” she answers, staring up into my eyes. “At least, not in the way that he could promise you. It’s something I feel, just as I knew he wouldn’t harm me when I first led him out of those stables. He’s a kind horse. Even if I tell him to go, I know he’ll wait.”
I nod my head in understanding, though I really can’t begin to fathom how she can become so close with a horse. It’s true I could feel that he means us no harm, but I don’t think I’ll ever find myself wishing to ride on one again. I’m actually thankful for Aras’ strange ramblings about our path through the mountain.
“Perhaps he will wait, Vivi, but I’m sure he can take care of himself until we can get back to him,” I say, looking out to her horse as he rests outside of our fire’s light. “Besides, once Ian hears of your dilemma, I’m more than sure he’ll send someone out to fetch him.”
“Do you really think he’d do that?” she asks, her tiny, but strong voice filled with awe.
I pause, thinking of Ian’s kind heart. The very same heart that threatens to consume me whole. My eyes dart over to Aras as he tends the fire, his dark hair blending in with the dying light, and for the first time, I wonder if I might let it.
“Oh, I know he will,” I finally answer, pulling Vivi down to her mat and giving Sireen a loaded glance. “Now, come, you need rest. Aras says we’ll be there by midday.”
Sireen quickly takes my cue, laying down on her mat beside Vivi and patting her back. I had already aimed to find some solace by the fire as the others slept, preparing myself for my greatest challenge of all. The one where I pretend to go through with my father’s wishes, while protecting those I love. It’s a difficult task—a task that, with each passing second, I worry I won’t be quite strong enough to complete.
“Aren’t you going to lay down with us?” Vivi yawns, curling her arms under her head. “It’s going to be a hard walk through the mountain if you haven’t rested, too.”
“Yes, sister,” I soothe, grabbing my pack. “I’m only going to take a few moments to think by the fire. Don’t worry. I have no doubt that Aras will run me off soon.”
For a second, my words are met with silence, and I think she’s already drifted off into a blissful sleep, when she speaks again. “She won’t blame you, you know,” Vivi calls as I step into the open light of the fire. Nestled by the flame, Aras’ cheek tilts our way. His careful ears pick up on the seriousness of her voice. “So don’t for one second think she will. She understands what it’s like to lose someone you care for, simply because you didn’t heed Father’s wishes. As bad as it hurts, Bates knew what he was getting into when he took our side. Mother always said if there is anything that could keep her going, it’s the memory of those who gave everything they had, only for a chance to see Orien’s freedom.”
I turn my eyes toward her rumpled form resting among the dark trees, once again questioning what it is I have done to deserve such a wise little sister. For her words hit the mark, stripping away the layers of guilt that have begun to build around my heart and making my blood pump anew. “I won’t forget him either, Vivi, and it is his memory that will help me win.”
Though the low light of the curling fire hinders her reaction, I imagine an approving grin all the same. “She loves you, Brave, and without a doubt, she has missed you since the day you were born.”
“And I, her,” I reply, knowing only weeks ago, my words wouldn’t have been the truth.
But now they guide my soul.
“Quite the dramatic pair, aren’t you?” Aras admires, his blue eyes washing over me as I take a seat across from him on one of the empty logs he has dragged near the fire’s ring. The orange flames lick into the air, causing streaks of shadows to mar his handsome face. “Who knew you held such esteem for your mother, considering she all but abandoned you to cursed lands mere minutes after you were born.”
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My head pops up, and my teeth grind together, pressing my lips into a tight line. I start to respond that, due to his own hideous decisions, he doesn’t know a thing about my mother’s past nor my own, but then another approach wheedles past my anger, and I don’t know why I’ve never thought of it until now. “Forgiveness has a funny way of changing things, Aras. Making the callous heart bend and shape to its will. Perhaps you shouldn’t mock its power, considering you’ll need it yourself, soon enough.”
Aras’ eyes tint with an ugly glare while I feign innocence, dropping my stare and digging into my pack for what I needed all along. Fingers flying past the journal, clothes, and meager supplies, I search in vain for Papa’s letter. The one thing that could bring me solace as I approach the second kingdom that battles to keep me as its own.
Interestingly, I come up empty of not one letter, but two.
“Looking for something?” Aras taunts, a cruel smile dusting across his face as the flames climb higher between us. Two tanned papers flip and slide through his fingertips—a dangerous dance that dares me to cut in, and my thoughts turn into a meddled mush as I search for something to say. Heat rushes my chest, but I can’t tell if it’s from flat-out anger or embarrassment.
A dreadful part of me thinks both.
“I don’t recall giving you permission to rummage through my pack, Aras,” I say, finally finding my feet and rounding the fire. Stopping at his boots, I hold out my hand, silently begging him to give the letters over so I don’t have to cause unfortunate damage to us both. His dark tunic, sleeves torn at the shoulders, remind me so much of that first day when we met and he scooped me over his shoulder. My savior from those cursed woods. My handsome prince. But there’s something about the amusement brewing in his gaze that tells me he doesn’t remember a thing about the letter, nor would he ever desire to be my prince if he could.
Not anymore.
“Such a sensitive, passionate side of you,” he says as the letters continue their maddening trail through his fingers. “I wonder what your father would think if he knew you were harboring letters from your fake papa and your secret lover?”
“Give them over, Aras,” I demand as calmly as I can, as if he doesn’t hold the only possession I have left of my papa, and the only proof of my memories with him. “The letters are nothing of your concern. They’re only a little piece of my past, and Ashen knows they can’t rule my future. No… my father already wrote that in the stars long ago.”
Aras’ lips quirk up, his dimple flashing so quickly one would only have to know the evil thing by heart to catch it. “Then I suppose you won’t mind if we get rid of them, will you?”
His soft words have barely registered when I smell the scent of toxic flames, just as strong as they were the day they killed Bates. My friend. Black flames burst into my vision, and I don’t spare a second to think about what could happen before my cool hands are upon him. We tumble backward on the ground in a dangerous heap of fire and ice. Charred slips of paper rise like a plume of dust into the air, and I struggle to bat at the dark flames that still consume his hands.
As if he’s only now awoken to my presence, Aras lurches forward, shoving me onto my back, causing our clenched hands to press into my stomach and steal my breath. “Is that all you’ve got, Penelope Brave?” he sneers, his perfect, olive face the closest to my own that it’s been in months. “Or do the authors of those pathetic notes mean so little to you?”
His flames surge underneath my hands, and I clamp down on his knuckles, my nails piercing his flesh. “No,” I whisper, letting my words brush against his face as the first of my tears trail a path down my dirt-streaked face. “They mean too much.”
Instantly, I drop the barrier between our hands, and the heat pulses against my palms, sending a crushing burn across my skin. Aras’ eyes widen as he feels the change in my fight, and I relish the immediate relief as his flames cease, and my mother’s power begins to heal my damaged palms from within. Aras’ face turns pale as he stares into my green eyes, a terrible storm brewing within their depths. Not because I’m angry he burned me. I let him do that. But because I finally understand the force of his cursed power.
I know I can keep Aras from hurting me, but I don’t know if I’m strong enough to keep him from hurting someone else. Not yet.
“Why—” Aras starts, confusion flooding his tone, when an angry voice cuts him off.
“What is wrong with you?” Vivi yells. We both look up to find her standing with a large, homemade torch in one hand and her new dagger in the other. The flames of the torch surround her in wild waves, and she shoves the fire dangerously close to Aras’ hair.
Aras, the lucky brute, is smart enough to flinch, truly taken aback by this ferocious Vivi who is no longer an untamed power of only words alone. Shaking his head, he pushes against my chest, rising to his knees and holding his hands out into the air. “Easy, now, Princess. There’s no need for anyone to get hurt,” he soothes, as if there is no undercurrent to his words. “I made a promise to Knox, and I intend on making good with it.”
“Oh, no need for anyone to get hurt?” she mocks, kneeling beside me as she shoves the torch into his face. “You burned my sister, you monster!”
He darts his blue eyes to my own in question, clearly aware I let his magic overtake my own. But then he shakes his head, turning to face my force of a sister once more. “I didn’t hurt her, Viviana; she did that all on her own. If you want be upset with anyone, you can start with your sister for harboring treasonous letters in her pack.”
Vivi’s expression turns deadly as she stands to her feet. A tiny vision who could crush any man with her will alone. I place a quick hand on her boot, an important reminder of the true Aras who waits beneath this awful spare. To her credit, she sends me a knowing look before continuing her battle of words once more. “I wasn’t talking about her hands, Aras. Those are already starting to heal. I was talking about her heart.”
I falter, working hard to deny the horrible truth her words bring, but Vivi’s already prowling the few remaining feet between them, a frightening gleam in her eye. “You want to talk about treason, huh? You think Brave has something against our king? Guess what, brother. You wrote that letter, and I think we can all agree you’re a sorry excuse for a handsome prince.”
Aras’ face turns pale, the clear rebuttal dying on his lips. Without another word, he stands, risking one last glance as he storms off into the dark woods. Rising to my knees, I stare off into the shadows as if I could still watch him go. The charred letters scatter about on the ground, acting like a circle of ashes fencing me in. Now they, too, must live on in my memories.
Before I can wallow anymore, a firm hand grips my shoulder, and I finally look up as the last of the tears begin to dry against my cheeks. “Come here,” I whisper as Vivi drops the torch and dagger, falling to her knees and wrapping me up in a tight hug. “You’re the sweetest, meanest little girl I know, and I’m so proud to call you my sister.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers into my shoulder, her tiny voice catching on the words, as if she could be the cause of my misery tonight.
“Oh, Vivi,” I say, pulling her back until she looks up into my face. “Bates was right. That sneaky little admirer of our mother was right. Even the darkest night has light, and you, my perfect sister, are my light.”
Vivi’s pinched features relax under my words. A sliver of peace winds its way into her heart, and if for only this very moment, making her whole again. Her reaction alone is enough to make my own shoulders relax, and my breaths slow to an even pace. “And by the way, thank you for running off that handsome prince. Maybe now I can actually find some rest before he comes back with those brooding stares of his.”
Standing, she holds out her hand to pull me up, and we make our way back to our pallets by the edge of the mountain. “Perhaps he’ll even get lost.” She laughs as a timid Sireen steps forward, offering us comfort with her quiet presence alone.
“Yes, per
haps he will,” I agree, though my heart says something very different.
For even is this horrible state, there is one thing about Aras I know to be true: He will never be lost to me, even when I desperately wish him to be.
Seventeen
When dawn finally comes, she meets us with blurry eyes and closed hearts. The memory of last night’s events still fresh and sullen on our minds, and every step through this cramped tunnel offers little room for relief. But if I’m being honest, I don’t think I’m capable of dwelling on anything else, regardless of my current surroundings.
Aras, the lovely brute, hasn’t spoken a word since our last exchange in the dirt. He hasn’t even glanced my way. I like to pretend it’s because he feels so sorry for his actions, and he’s slowly remembering what we once had together.
Vivi says it’s because he’s a jerk.
Either way, I can’t help but curl my lip every time he directs us with that non-verbal language of his. A grunt. A growl. A brush of his hand. Sometimes even a flat-out glare, though never directed at me. Nothing is ever directed at me. It’s as if I am invisible, and I can’t decide if I like it or not.
“It’s been nearly half a day, Aras,” Vivi fusses, carefully stepping over some fallen stones as she pulls a sweating Sireen along with her. The poor thing neglected to mention she might be a little adverse to tight, underground, and possibly life-threatening places. Naturally, Vivi told her the only way to face her fear was to plow right through it. By the looks of Sireen’s bulging eyes, I think she might disagree. “There’s only so much more of this dark place and your dark mood I can take.”
Aras stops for the first time in what seems like hours. He turns around to face us, causing his torch to cast long shadows along the curved walls. I try to peek around him to see if our horrid journey through the dangerously carved tunnels is about to come to an end, but all I’m met with is darkness and more darkness still. There could be a raging tunnel creature behind him for all I know, but I doubt he’d warn us if that were the case. No, the only bit of information Aras seemed intent on telling us before he reverted back to his pre-speech days, was that this tunnel was carved ages ago by the people of Theron. The tunnel was an attempt to create a quicker passage to Orien, but I’m quite sure once my father’s generation came to rule, they quickly second-guessed that decision.
The Darkest Night (The Orien Trilogy Book 2) Page 11