Fallen Warrior (Fallen Trilogy book 3)

by Williams, Tess

  "You said you knew the man was evil, but you wouldn't kill him," I reminded Cole. "You were going to give me the reason."

  My mind continued to swim, between possible past, and future plans. Somehow it wasn't grieving at all to imagine what it could have been like, if I'd only heard of Raand and Jaxom sooner. It was like an alternate life worth disappearing into.

  But then, Cole had also gone so quiet. I glanced back at him, with his hand still wrapped over his strap. Not just his eyes, but his robes, were shifting color with the torches. That simple black reflecting very little.

  "Cole?" I pressed.

  "What?" He blinked at me. "Oh, right," he followed. "Yes, I was going to say that... that I tried to. Only he got away from me."

  This drew much of my full attention—out of the past—straight on to Cole. He sounded a little like he had this morning; like he was just saying words. But, really, I didn't have any reason to think what he said was false.

  "You tried to?" I asked.

  I'd slowed; now Cole glanced at me, as we walked very slowly. He hesitated, then nodded.

  "But, it's only that it seemed what you had to say was so important before," I argued.

  There was a hesitation again, and then he shrugged. "If I tried to kill someone, and failed, who'd want to tell about that."

  "You're not usually so consumed with how your capability is being judged, Cole."

  "Is that what you think?" he replied quickly, lightly. "What about my running through the halls? What about my skills with ice-sliding. You were happy to chastise me for bragging then."

  I opened my mouth to counter—but then I was stopped short. He was right. I had chided him for that. It was true, that he was rather concerned about his own abilities then. I'd only never thought of it, since he'd seemed so humble from the start, when I'd met him. I thought of watching for scars on his feet, when he'd dipped them into the hot springs—or the way he'd reacted when I'd first touched him. I thought of his perfect shot with the arrow.

  Cyric's figurine was in my pocket. I stuck my hand in, and hugged it tight.

  "You should brag, Cole," I said, "you're very good at many things." My voice sounded weaker than I meant it to. I added, more attentively, "I'm sorry you didn't get to avenge your friend."

  I thought he would reply that he was sorry too. Or that he hoped he would one day, or something. But he didn't. I was left to watching the torches, and they reminded me of what he'd said about the man. How he collected flames inside of colored glass. The way he made them show the differing colors, whichever colors he chose for them, whatever he liked. I heard words, many weeks ago, telling me how Cyric was one just of many capable underlings, how this Commander had collected hundreds of them—the best from all over the lands. And wasn't he then, putting them within the boxes he liked, to shine the color he liked.

  I thought then that this man of Cole's seemed very much to me like Lox.

  Just another way in which Cole and I could understand each other.

  "I won't fail when I mean to kill," I added then. But not for Cole to hear, only in my own mind, gripping Cyric's figurine tight.

  #

  Luffie was in a fine state when we got back to the outpost. In fact, the whole of the weather surrounding the outpost was in a fine state. It was late afternoon, and she'd spent the morning, it seemed, flying about the mountain spaces. The way we found her, she was lying in front of a hearth, surrounded, on tables, by Genbuan guards digging into bowls of stew, and chatting with her as if she were their dearest relative.

  I ducked, straight-way, into her neck. Feeling her feathers that had gone warm by the nearness of the fire. It was similar to the way, her fire-breath warmed her—only that ever touched her fur. This was all to the tips of her wings.

  We shared long seconds of images, only it proved troublesome to show her Genbu—especially the sacred halls. So I told her outright, how the rulers tricked us.

  Then there was a guard, just behind us, beside Cole, slapping a hand to his back, and saying something about the unusual rulers of Genbu, and how you might never know what they'd do next. Cole replied; I worried he would reply, in agreeance. But instead he said something congenial. Got chatting about the state of Genbu. Then asked on about Luffie's stay.

  I didn't want to have to be parleying more now, in preference to seeing Luffie. But here, I didn't have to. He was doing well enough alone. I was reminded, of coming out from the meeting with the rulers last night, seeing Cole standing there, my thoughts full of words of Cyric, but seeing him standing there, and thinking he looked, with the hitch of his shoulders, and the stance of his boots, like a prince. Like some sort of royalty, even rivaling those around him, which were, truly sorts of rulers—and even though he was all covered in black robes.

  I was reminded of something else. Something I couldn't put my finger on. So much so, I thought for a moment, that I'd not just been dreaming of Cyric but Cole last night. Had I dreamt of Cole other nights? I heard a voice calling me princess. Careful princess, it whispered, and I was in some sort of large hall, and the tone was just the same as Cole's was now. A tone of total control, saying they had it well at hand. That they were, the kingliest of the kingliest sorts—able to master great crowds, if not many rulers all at once, to their will. Had I stood before royalty with Cole before? That was the sense of my dream. In Yanartas, there were the Democedians. And Nain, as well—and hadn't there been visitors from Ghaund, but had Cole spoken?

  Luffie interrupted— well... it wasn't quite right to say she interrupted this train of thoughts. It was only that she'd begun to follow along them. I'd been so distracted in them, that I hadn't taken any care to keep them guarded. Now her turquoise eyes were for Cole behind me. My mind flashed clearly to a kiss. Luffie harrumphed a sort of snort. It drew Cole's attention, even two of the Genbuans, laughing how often she did that, then going on to speak of her other behaviors.

  Luffie expressed to me a collection of images; those attentions she'd received from chimera, then Yurei's whose she'd liked the best. She showed a sharp turning in flight, then pomegranate seeds, then lying out on the warm rock summit above Yanartas, then digging her talons into a goblin before dropping them—these things she liked to do. She seemed to be expressing how kissing was a fair practice when it made enjoyment. She didn't ask me if I enjoyed Cole's kissing, but she was still watching him, and from the form of my thoughts, I didn't think she would have to.

  "Hello there, Luffie," Cole said—in seeming response to her staring.

  She gave another humph, but this one was of approval. If Cole could only have seen the line of her thoughts... She wanted to test whether he could manage to scale an ice wall—like the one she'd spotted earlier further up the mountain—then if he could, she'd be ready to give her full consent. Whereas I, quickly rushed her with images, as best as I could with the blockage, of Cyric not killing Raand or Jaxom. Of hearing of councilman Palum, and how he'd gone off to the far west. Or getting to see for myself this morning, one of Raand's family, and how the rest were back safely at their home there.

  Her gaze switched to me.

  I showed her the figurine; all else that I could of my heart, with all entreaty.

  She glanced back at Cole; now with pitying sort of thoughts; a fish stuck up on the beach. Those goblins which she liked to pick up—just before she did. The soldiers as they'd fallen so long ago under Ceras's fire-breath; a display of ability which she always kept in mind to aim for.

  All this happened within seconds—so that Cole still had his hand up in a wave for her. Then he added. "I said something great about you, while we were gone.... Though... I can't remember what it was now. Do you remember, Ellia?"

  Luffie shot a look back to me. Was it almost just as pitying as the one she'd given him, or was that my imagination? "I remember you did. I don't remember what it was. Were you comparing her to the dragons maybe?"

  Cole, very suddenly laughed, crossing his arms. I noticed for the first time, that the pouch
was back out to his hand, the pouch from this morning. "No, that's right," he said. "I compared her to the constellation animals. I said you're just as powerful as them, Luffie. What do you think? I think you're more powerful even than that."

  Oh dear, but if Luffie could have been making an expression, I wasn't sure that Yurei wouldn't be jealous to see it. Did Cole have to be so quip with what to say? I wanted to remind him of his old days of stuttering.

  "Aye, but we do agree," said one of the Genbuans. It was the woman, who'd first greeted us at the door of the outpost, questioning whether I was a princess. She held an armful of coats, and just behind her was the man, holding just as many—these one's Cole's. "She's an excellent animal," she continued. "She displayed her fire-breath to us."

  Luffie had already showed me a memory of this.

  The woman held her arms out for me, with the furs. I narrowed, surprised that they'd brought them on their own, but then when Cole reached out and took his own, beginning in shrugging them on, and sharing a quick word with the guard—seeming completely at ease with it, I thought rather that he'd called them to it.

  Luffie harrumphed again. I took my coats and began to straighten them on, while the two told us they'd ready Luffie's harness outside, then walked off.

  "Did you tell them we mean to go now?" I asked Cole.

  He'd just got on his largest coat. It was the only time, this and last time when he'd put it on, that he wasn't wearing black, and the brown leather made him look imaginable in something else. Warrior's garb maybe. Or really any sort of leather armor. What was it—did I automatically imagine him in Shaundakulian leather armor?

  He nodded. "I told you, it's important about Tongon. You don't believe me, Ellia? It has to do with Luffie." He shrugged the bags back on, then added ruefully, "Do you not think that Tongon would have given me an important job?"

  "It's not that."

  He laughed. "I know it's not. I'm only teasing. It wasn't really my job, anyways. Here, you can have these back." He handed me the pouch. The moment it touched my hand, I felt a pulse, like electricity, like an energy. Luffie had gone on to follow the two Genbuans outside, but her thoughts were still close enough to become alerted to the feeling—only she teased that it had nothing to do with what Cole had handed me, but Cole's hand in and of itself. And so, I thought the same—for it was just as much like it had felt when he'd kissed me, than anything else I could recall. I pulled the bag away quick. I could feel whatever was inside of it like little pebbles. Cole shook his head. "Don't open it yet—if you don't want to badly—because I'd rather show you for myself, all at once. I'm afraid you'll guess if you see them."

  "Them?" I repeated, just for something to say. Cole was sliding his gloves on now. It turned my attention to my own job, pulling on my coats; Genbuans still watching and waiting over us as they were. But I kept my gaze on him, even why I wrapped a scarf around my neck. No, on his gloves, sliding over his fingers. No, on his eyes, which were orange and blue both in the light of the flames from the hearth, and the surrounding blue torches.

  "They're not a pledge from the Black Tortoises," Cole went on, unanswering, "They're from the Azure Dragons—did I tell you that already?"

  I tried to recall. "Yes, I think," I muttered out.

  Then he was done. Gloves, and coats and everything. I had a fur-trimmed hood, but he didn't; he only had his regular Kanthian one. He swiped the pouch back from my hand. "Actually, I'll hold that," he said. "Here." He handed me my sword, which he'd acquired seemingly from nowhere. It was my Yanartian one, the other I'd brought to Genbu with me, as it was a pledge.

  "What, but you're taking it again?" I objected. I frowned, now, truly concerned, and sure that I'd been right in what I'd thought before. I sheathed my sword away, even as I went on, "Is it that you think I'll leave you if I have it? The pouch I mean? Cole, you're truly more valuable to me than what the Genbuans could give as I pledge."

  I had trouble with my belt. So I looked up, just in time to see the skin crinkling around his eyes—so that I was sure he was smiling. One of his widest smiles yet. It did my heart good to see. "It's not that, Ellia," he said, part amused, part endeared, "It's that I wanted you to be able to put your gloves on." His eyes were still crinkled.

  I looked down at my hands. Left inside them, all there was, were my two gloves; which I might have had trouble getting on, it was true, holding the pouch as well.

  Feeling my cheeks warm now, I mumbled an "oh," then slipped them quickly on. I noticed the Genbuans nearby us, casting glances, making mentions, and I was glad we were to be off on our way alone again. I looked up, and not a second did Cole wait before speaking—his body upright, and steady.

  "I'm not afraid you'll leave me," he said. His tone was plain and sincere. "Because I wouldn't let you go," he added. His brows narrowed, giving me a view of as much of them, I'd seen. I thought they were brown. "I already told you. I'm not ever going to leave you. There's nothing you can do change that."

  I felt my chest rise sharper. There was ice in it, because my body and soul were all back at the river, where he'd held onto me suddenly, where he'd said that we should dance, where I'd been caught up in that feeling from the platform, waltzing with him; years of skipping rocks, that conviction I was only a child.

  But I wasn't only a child. I was a grown woman—who should know better than all of this. It wasn't right what I was doing.

  I frowned, the ice still in my chest, my gloves on now; I couldn't think what to say to him.

  But he didn't wait for a reply. He only handed me the pouch, then put his hands in his pockets, then moved around me, after Luffie.

  #

  The sky was almost as clear as we'd left it—just flurries drifting down in sheets—no piercing winds, and even with a little dusk blue showing off on the low horizon. The clouds down the mountain, that had been there before, were gone. Being able to see down it, was the sensation of looking down a flight of steps which never ended—different that something like being at the top of Uldin Keep. Because even though that was tall, the way down from it wasn't something you could visualize apart from death. This slope, was something actually traversable. Perhaps, not now. But between Cole and Luffie, I was personally afraid that somehow one or the other (likely that smallerish one without wings) would end up sliding down on bits of branch. For this reason, as soon as we headed off the Genbuan fortress, saying our goodbyes to the outpost-men, I directed us further into the trees. It was still highly sloped, but not so that you could any longer see down it. Besides, the snow was less, blocked by branches, and there was even a rock against which Cole and I could rest.

  "Alright, let's see it now," I told Cole, arms crossed. The other matter of the mountain, whether it was blizzarding or not, was that it was freezing.

  "You mean, now that you've marched us off to nowhere. We could have done it, back by the outpost. I think the Genbuans would like to see it."

  "Cole, I haven't even gotten to see it. I don't even know what it is you mean, only that you keep going on about how important it is, it has to do with Luffie, and with the Azure Dragons—and you expect me to let someone else see it first?"

  "Not first," Cole replied. "It'd be easy enough for everyone to watch."

  I frowned. I didn't know how it was, but his voice was clear, despite the layers, while mine felt muffled even to my own ears.

  Luffie had gone up to swoop in her armor, but at the pause of our conversation, she dropped down.

  She dipped her head to me, flake-covered as it was. I dusted it off. Then I looked to Cole. He was just standing there.

  "Well," I pressed him.

  I certainly couldn't see his eyes—they were too shadowed. But then when he pointed to me, to my stomach, I was sure her was smiling. "You have them, remember?" he told me.

  I blinked. Then I felt my cheeks get hot again, thinking back to his words before, then I reached under my layers to pull out the pouch. Once again, there was that sensation of energy. And even as I move
d it away from my belt, my muscles there relaxed. I hadn't even realized; I'd been thinking my stomach had been knotting because of Cole and guilt. Now my fingers hummed again, so much so that I thought Cole had moved his hand close to help me, but he hadn't; he only spoke.

  "Be careful not to drop them, they're only little."

  "You're to know everything as always, aren't you, Cole?" I responded, but it was distantly muttered—not because I wasn't paying attention to him, but because I wanted to be paying more attention to the business of Tongon's.

  "No," he replied, "It was you who knew this time, kid."

  Kid. The word barely grazed my mind, since, I'd already put my gloved fingers to the pouch, and now I was opening it and seeing light glowing inside, glowing blue.

  But before that, in those short seconds, there was a scoff in my thoughts at his sentence, first since it didn't make sense, or any sense that I could tell, it was just more arbitrary teasing. And second, because "kid" was just opposed to what I'd been thinking for myself; of who I needed to be. No, who I knew, I was. With Cyric, I could be. When had he ever called me kid to begin with anyways?

  But yes, all of that was what had been lost, because upon seeing the glowing blue, I recognized the contents from the sacred halls, the hall of treasures. I recognized, the same, the feeling of the energy; I couldn't tell how I hadn't realized. Then, I'd wanted to slip my fingers within so dreadfully. Now, I almost did, pulling one glove off with a quick nip from my teeth, even leaving it hanging there, then shoving my nails through the top of the bag; but there I hesitated—coming suddenly to my senses. Realizing, I still didn't know what this was? And hadn't Cole said it was for Luffie? And even if it had once been Shaundakul's, what right did I have to go touching it.

  "It's alright, Ellia," Cole said.