by Alex Shobe
My heart shifts in weight and sinks lower into the pit of my stomach. There’s a good chance some of these men won’t be returning home. Regardless of how much faith I have in them, I know casualties in war are inevitable. Certainly, they must know it as well.
Kaleo stands tall with his wife, the woman who gave me fresh clothing. He takes her face gently in his hands and kisses each of her cheeks. He drops his head down so their foreheads are touching, then speaks softly of which I can only assume are parting words. A single tear falls from her eye before she smiles. Such a happy expression masking her pain. I’m all too familiar with the chore. One night with her husband was all she got before he’s off risking his life again.
He stoops down to his knees in front of the curly-haired girl. She’s shining with youthful innocence. Her small arms stretch around her father’s shoulders as best as she can manage. She holds him tightly and presses her head against his chest.
I turn away from their sentimental moment. I’ve never experienced this type of connection with my own father. He was a hard man. He had his moments of tenderness from time to time, but they never lasted long. Being affectionate wasn’t exactly his most notable quality.
“Are you doing all right?”
I jump at the voice behind me. Aiden.
We stand shoulder to shoulder and watch as the rest of the supplies get loaded onto other carts.
“I’m fine.” In the corner of my vision, I can see him looking at me, searching my face for the truth. I keep my eyes forward and avoid his gaze.
He sighs and faces forward. A bit of irony. Most times it has been him who has difficulty opening up to people. It is both strange and appreciated for him to check on me.
I turn to him. “Tell me, honestly, what are your thoughts about our odds of success?”
He takes a moment and stares hard at the men and supplies gathered. A lot of the volunteers were imprisoned with him and have survived the arena on multiple occasions.
He looks at me, flecks of gold dotting the brown of his eyes. “Honestly?”
I nod.
“I believe you’ll have the manpower, especially once we meet up with the other villages.”
“But?”
His eyes shift. “But… instead of the brute force approach Kaleo suggested, perhaps we could use a more clever strategy. It could reduce the threat of casualties on our side.”
My lips pull to the side. “Why didn’t you suggest this at the meeting?”
His hands rake through his hair. He tilts his head back so that he gazes up into the fading starlight. “I felt it wasn’t my place. Kaleo and his strategists were pretty keen on getting it done their way.”
I shake my head and hold up a hand. “Aiden, your advice holds just as much weight to me as a hundred war experts. Many of these men seek to strike using their instincts.” My eyes float to Colton as he approaches, but I snatch them away. “You? You’re different. You’re very logical, which is something that is invaluable. So, please, if you have a better plan, I would like to hear it.”
His mouth moves into a grin. “All right, so I was thinking—“
“Your Majesty?” Kaleo’s voice booms in the square, startling me.
I look over. He and the other men are ready and waiting. Colton stands with them, avoiding my eye contact. I reach out and touch Aiden’s arm. “Tell me on the way there?”
He smiles, slightly disappointed. There’s a gentleness to him that makes me feel sorry he’s found himself here. With the rising sun at our backs, we join the others and begin our journey to Mount Grae.
Colton
It’s midday when we reach the mountains. The sun hangs high above our heads, casting shallow shadows in front of us. We arrive without incident, which is a relief because I’m still mentally exhausted from last night.
I haven’t been able to look Leona in her eyes since then. Every time I try, I’m met with the mental picture of seeing her frightened, her body shaking as she tries to regain a full breath. I did that. I caused her undue pain. I hurt her in a way I could’ve never imagined.
But it wasn’t her, not really. I remember the dream—nightmare—vividly. My mind tricked me, giving me the illusion of an enemy that wasn’t possible. Only, dream and reality clashed together when I woke up to my hands around Leona’s throat. If I could take it back, I would, but I’m sure she’ll never forgive me. She walks ahead of me with Kaleo and Aiden at her side. She’s still close enough that I can smell the sweetness of her hair, see the softness of her skin under the sun’s light. I drift back and let others pass me to increase the distance.
As we approach Mount Grae, all heads turn upward to the tops of the peaks. They extend endlessly into the sky, their ridges disappearing into the clouds. Though the ground is covered in fine-bladed grasses, the mountain erupts in jagged stone, bare of any possibility for greenery to grow.
We walk along the foot of the mountain until we find the opening to the cavern. To someone not familiar, the small gap might get overlooked under the cover of shrubbery pushing against it.
The narrow tunnel gradually opens wider and branches off into different directions. Our lanterns show our shadows walking alongside us. Stalactites hang from the ceiling like spears waiting to be released. The hair at my temples dampens from the humidity as we stay in the main tunnel. It zigzags until we reach the hollow space of the mountain.
I watch ahead of me as Leona takes in the vast cavern. She spins around slowly, smiling, her eyes scanning the tallest edges of the ceiling. When she drops her head and her eyes land on mine, the smile fades. In its place, her lips press together into a frown. We hold each other’s stare for a second before she turns around and rejoins Aiden.
I swallow a hard gulp. If she would just let me explain…
There’s a loud disturbance up ahead. My body tenses and my eyes are on high alert. I lift my foot to take off into a sprint but pause when the commotion splits into laughter. My hand clutches the hilt up my sword as I jog toward the sounds.
Waiting on the far side of the cavern is another group. I squint and can make out the faces of men I’d shared the dungeon cell with. The tension releases from my shoulders, though not completely.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Your Majesty.” Nicolai reaches for Leona’s hand and bends to kiss her knuckles. A few years older than me, he’s the youngest leader Toveen has ever had. He was chosen by his neighbors because of his ability to handle the challenges Toveen endured when they lost the entirety of their crops to disease. I admired him for that, but now, a surge of jealousy flows through my veins.
“The honor is all mine,” Leona says. Her cheeks push up as she smiles. “I’m grateful that you and your village have decided to join us.”
“Of course. When we received Kaleo’s message, we jumped at the chance to put an end to this madness.” He tucks his thumbs into the belt at his waist and tilts his head, his eyes falling on the bruises around her neck. “Are you well?”
Her answer to his question will crush me. She could either lie and minimize the damage, or she could tell him exactly what happened. Either option makes my head throb. I pull at my shirt, the collar suddenly feeling too snug. Maybe she should announce my faults. I deserve for everyone to know what I’ve already come to terms with myself. I can’t be trusted—not truly.
I turn and trudge past the men who’d arrived hours before we did. They shake hands and hug, happy to see one another. Under different conditions, I’m sure I’d feel the same way, but when I see them, I’m only reminded of our past. No matter how much I try to push the thoughts from my mind, they are always there, whispering demonic words into my ears.
There’s something wrong with me. My breathing quickens and my head pounds. With a start, I look toward the path we traveled through and close my eyes. I listen to the whistle of the wind as it courses through the tunnels. It’s telling me something different now.
I don’t belong here.
Leona
By the t
ime Kaleo’s finished introducing me to the leaders of the villages, many of the men have arrived. There’s still one village that has yet to make it—Apsyn. The northern community has already been revisited by the guards. They sent word that they still had men available to fight, but that many of their strongest fighters were whisked away in the middle of the night and returned to the dungeons.
The cavern has calmed with excitement while the men rest from their long journeys. I take in the sight. At least three hundred men, all here because they believe in my right to the throne. I continue to scan the space. A pale blue glow reflected on a far wall strikes my interest. I stand from the rock I’d been sitting on and walk toward it. A few heads look in my direction, but no one follows me.
The glow builds brighter the further I travel down the tunnel. The passageway opens to a short cliff. Below is a pond, the water reflecting its blue ripples on the walls. I look down into the pool, past the surface, to see the bottom. The water is transparent—no debris, no obstructions, just liquid glass. At the bottom, the ground sparkles, almost as though crushed metals were embedded in the dirt. My focus shifts when I notice another person’s reflection beside me in the water. I gasp and snap my head behind me.
Colton stands with his hands up in front of him. His eyes are narrow with wariness. The luminosity of the water makes the red patch in his iris more prominent. I try to relax my tense body, but my anxiety refuses to fade.
“Yes?” I ask, my voice unsteady.
He lowers his hands. My eyes follow them to his sides. I would hate if they’d found themselves around my throat again.
“I need to talk to you.”
I take a step away from him, toward the wall behind us. “Go ahead.” I already know where this conversation is heading. His face has said the words long before his tongue has had the chance.
He tries to maintain eye contact, but his sight drifts to and from the water. “I wanted you to know how very sorry I am for what I did.” He glances at my bruises before quickly shifting away again. “It was an accident.”
I scoff, heating rising in my chest. “How do you accidentally strangle someone?” I look down at his hands and they’re shaking. He closes them into fists to hide it.
“It was a dream—or nightmare, I guess. But it felt so real…” His voice gets quieter.
My eyebrow raises. “You thought you were only choking me in your dreams?”
He shakes his head. “No, no, not you. It was”—he pauses—“someone else.”
I watch him, patiently, as he stares at the ground and wrestles with the thoughts in his mind. The silence between us makes the lapping of the water sound louder.
“Tell me.” My eyes are trained on him.
He looks up, puzzled. “Tell you what?”
“About the dream.” If it had gotten to the point where he was left trying to kill a man, I’m curious to know what the dream was about.
He hesitates, then recalls what he can from his memories. He speaks of the dungeon, the arena, the man he was fighting who shared his eyes. His face twists up as he relives the torture. For once, I don’t press him for details. There’s silence between us as the diluted images of his nightmare swirl around in my mind.
‘Give him time,’ his mother said. Surely her love for her son has clouded her judgment on the situation. My own thoughts begin to torment my opinion as I consider her words. Before me, stands a man torn between his past and present. I’ve not forgotten of his time in the arena, nor of what he told me the first night in the woods or in the stable. After everything that has happened, he’s not to blame for his actions.
“I’ll gather my things and leave,” he says. His eyes hold defeat.
My jaw falls to my ankles. “So, that’s it? You’re just going to go?” My voice rises with a flourish of annoyance.
“Seems like the best thing to do.” This time, he takes a step away. His eyes are steady, indifferent.
Another flash of heat starts in my soles and travels up my veins, branching off until my entire body is lit. “What about what you told me in the forest—about channeling my anger and using it? You should heed your own advice. I took you for a lot of things, but being a coward wasn’t one of them.”
He cringes. “How am I a coward?”
“You’re running away.”
“I’m not running.”
“Well, what would you call it then?”
He presses a palm to his forehead as though his hand might go through his skull. “I call it removing myself from a dangerous situation. It’ll be better for everyone if I’m not here.” He pivots on his heel.
I grab his arm and tug it back. “Don’t walk away from me.”
His eyes overflow with fury. “You should be wanting me to run away from you.” He pulls the hair at his nape, a vein bulging in his forehead. “I could’ve killed you. Don’t you understand that?”
“I understand that part perfectly.” I glance away and then back again. “What I don’t understand is why you’re behaving like a brute.”
He growls under his breath like a threatened wild dog, then turns and steps toward me, forcing me backward until my spine slams against the wall. “Oh? First I’m a coward and now I’m a brute?” The warmth of his breath scorches my forehead.
“You say one thing, and then do the opposite.” My hands tighten into fists. “You preach about protecting each other, yet you’re readily willing to abandon us—abandon me.”
He drops his head and stares at the ground between us. Slow breaths release from his chest. “I almost killed you,” he says again, placing emphasis on each word. “Who’s to say it won’t happen again?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think it will.”
He raises his eyes to meet mine. A smirk pulls at his lips. “Are you willing to bet your life on that? Maybe next time, there’ll be no one around to stop me.”
My body recoils from the hint of a threat in his tone. I should be afraid. I should wonder if he’ll finish the task he started last night. He’s more than capable of carrying it out. I sink my fingernails into my palms until it hurts, then squeeze a little harder.
“Do it.” My voice is unsteady. I swallow a hard gulp to reclaim my composure. “If you’re so sure you’ll hurt me again, then just get it over with and do it.”
He lets out a sharp laugh and turns away from me. The darkness under his eyes announce that his sleepless nights have caught up with him. “Don’t be silly. You know I’m not going to do that—not like this.”
I throw my hands up. “All right, then. Like I said, stop acting like a brute.” He turns back toward me, his brows raised. I jab my finger against his chest and hold it there. “You’re not the only one going through something.”
He reaches up and grabs my wrist firmly. It’s not tight enough to hurt me, though I know he could if he wanted to. “You don’t know what I’ve gone through.” He leans in close. His face hovers near mine and we hold each other’s eyes hostage, neither of us wanting to blink first. His glare scans my face, lingering at my lips, before bringing it back to my eyes. His breathing shudders. He looks down at me through long lashes. “You don’t know anything… noble girl.”
“Coward,” I hiss.
Seconds get stretched past their breaking point. His face blurs as he drops his head down and presses his lips to mine. Fast and hard. He pulls away with the same swiftness. I’m caught off-guard and lost for words. Heat radiates from my cheeks and the fire simmering in my core is enough to burn down a forest. His eyes narrow, slightly crazed, daring me to say something.
Taunting me for a reaction.
My brain is still processing what just happened, and I forget that my wrist is still in his hand, against his chest. His heart pounds violently against my fingers, reminding me of my own heart and how I’ve been holding my breath for far too long. I force my lungs to fill and bite my lip.
He brings his mouth to mine once more with the same urgency. This time, he prolongs the contact. Carefully. Met
hodically. I don’t pull away. Instead, I melt into the kiss, into his touch.
I free my wrist from his grip and bring my hands up to his face. My palms graze against the soft facial hair on his jaw. I pull him closer until there’s no distance left between us. The stone wall is smooth against my back. He presses me against it, and I let him.
We shouldn’t be doing this, but I don’t want to stop. The taste of his kiss is overwhelming, and my body begs for more. It’s like I’m at sea and while a violent storm thrashes my ship around, I can still find the beauty in the raindrops as they splash on my cheeks.
His lips leave mine and he softly plants them below my ear, down my neck. I wince when he reaches the bruises. He stops and pulls away, regarding me with caution. My fingers grasp his shirt and I pull him back. He’s hesitant, but he comes. I push up on my toes and murmur It’s all right against his cheek. Strong hands circle my hips, claiming me as his. And for the moment, I am. His lips find mine once more, this time, with a hunger desperate to be fed.
The heat between us builds. I’m out of my mind, but I don’t care. My brain can take as long of a respite as it needs. I shift so that he’s against the wall now. His lip twitches in surprise at my tenacity. My hands go to his waist. I take hold of the hem of his shirt and raise it. He pulls it over his head and tosses it haphazardly aside.
My eyes catch the glint of a pendant hanging around his neck. The water casts its reflection on his bare torso and his olive skin takes on a bluish glow. There are several scars, long and short ones, scattered over his chest. He looks at me, eyes dark, as I study the raised marks. Each one holds a story of its origin. Each one adds to the complexity of his past. He says nothing of them. Neither do I. Instead, I kiss each blemish, and as I do, he softly groans.
He stoops down and slides his hands under my dress. He hooks them around the back of my thighs and lifts me as he stands upright. My legs wrap around his hips, my ankles locked behind him. We’re incredibly close and I can’t stop. We turn so that I’m against the wall again. He buries his head into my chest. I’m sure he can hear the hammering of my heart. My lungs struggle to keep up with my breath.