by Elly Blake
“You would try to steal the Minax if you could? Even after all this time?”
“Even now.”
I put my hand to the wall, turning away while I digested that. The Minax soaked up her longing, her despair. I felt it in my bones.
I straightened. “They’re wrong, though. I’m not losing myself to it. For the first time, I felt completely in control of it.”
“You felt that way,” she pointed out. “But were you wielding the Minax, or was it wielding you?”
Fear struck a direct blow, my pulse quickening. Was I playing into Eurus’s hands? He had wanted me to kill his own followers. To darken my blood even further? It didn’t make sense unless it was all part of his larger plan for me.
Maybe he’d even sent those ships for that express purpose, so I’d defend and kill, sinking deeper into the pit he’d dug for me. I shivered. Maybe going to the Isle of Night was the worst thing we could possibly do.
But if we didn’t, who else would repair the Gate? It was me or no one. We had to go.
In a secret part of my heart, I knew that nothing would keep me from the Isle of Night now. I was drawn there, filled with anticipation just like the Minax. Dread was nothing more than a vague flutter in the back of my mind. Caution was a distant memory.
Marella’s pansy eyes grew somber. “You’re lost, Ruby. So much further gone than I ever was. Do you even remember who you were before?”
She gestured to my wrists. I looked down, turning my hands up.
My blood ran black, as inky dark as soot in both wrists.
I searched my mind, struggling to recall the person I was, how I’d felt, how I’d thought before the Minax. I tried to think of Arcus, of my mother, of all the people like Anda and her daughter who I was trying to protect.
I couldn’t bring a clear memory forward.
Panic made my pulse trip, my eyes widen in realization. I looked at Marella, desperate for a moment before the Minax drew the feeling away.
She gave me a sad smile. “I didn’t think so.”
TWENTY-NINE
WE REACHED THE ISLE OF NIGHT three days later. Sunset streaked the sky in the early afternoon—days were short this far north. After dusk, ribbons of color danced across the horizon in a dazzling display.
Or so I heard the sailors remarking.
“All those colors,” Jaro said in awe, gesturing with a beefy hand. “The gods put on a show for the north.” He turned to me. “It’s a sight to see, isn’t it?”
“Beautiful,” I lied. There were no colors for me. I saw only bands of gray.
Kai had the helm, his eyes never straying toward me, not once in days. His distrust of me was clear by his silence, and I regretted it, but didn’t know what to do to bridge the gap between us. As he steered around rocks like overgrown stalagmites poking up from the seabed, the crew searched for signs of the enemy. We’d expected to encounter more of the Servants’ ships when we arrived. We saw none.
“Where are they?” I asked Lucina, joining her at the rail. Anyone who wasn’t busy with preparations had come on deck to see the island of legend.
“Waiting,” she said with a frown. “They have been here, and will return.”
A deep stretch of beach fringed the bay. Lacy white fans of foam opened over and over, interweaving and replacing each other as the tide strained onto the fine black sand. Snow-dusted cliffs showed glimpses of black rock underneath.
We anchored and rowed to shore in small boats, the splash of many oars making a discordant heartbeat. A somber mood held most of the sailors silent, the only speech instructions or quiet orders.
When the boat scraped the shore, I stepped into the shallows.
The soldiers and sailors snaked in a line across the beach and up a cliff path, everyone laden with their share of food, water, blankets, weapons, or supplies. I kept turning to scan the horizon, longing to see the white sails of Sudesian or Tempesian ships coming to help, but the sea remained empty. Lucina insisted we could no longer wait, so we had to hope the navies would arrive when they were needed. Or that we wouldn’t need them after all.
When we reached level ground at the cliff top, I took a moment to assess the land—a flat expanse of snow-covered lava field leading to volcanoes in the distance. A harsh, rugged island softened by sparkling white.
As we leaned into the arctic winds, I wrestled with what was left of my conscience. We had finally reached our ultimate destination, but I still hadn’t told Arcus the details of Lucina’s plan. Had she? I didn’t think so. If he knew, he’d be trying to talk me out of it. No, that was too mild. He would forbid me outright. He would never let me go.
Doubts plagued me, and there was no one I could talk to. Lucina thought I was almost lost. Brother Thistle hadn’t spoken to me in days. I’d alienated Kai, and probably horrified Arcus with my murderous display of violence during our battle with the Servants. He seemed to be keeping his distance, and I couldn’t blame him. If I were him, I wouldn’t trust me, either.
Still, the thought of him no longer wanting to be close to me hurt deeply.
The moon rose, a misshapen silver coin hovering low in the sky. My hands and feet were chilled numb by the time we reached an outcropping that formed a horseshoe of shelter from the wind. Caves cut into the rock provided further protection. We made camp, eating dried meat and sipping water from leather flasks.
Our wool blankets didn’t keep out the cold, but I had my heat to warm me. I couldn’t sleep, so I listened to the snores of our companions and tried not to think about what would happen in the morning.
I turned toward a quiet scuffle of footsteps. A tall silhouette approached, then touched my shoulder in the dark. Arcus bent close. “Come with me.”
Surprised, I sat up, wrapping my blanket around my shoulders. Hesitating for only a moment, I followed his moving form by the cold blue moonlight.
When we reached the mouth of the cave, he said, “Come on, Lady Firebrand. We’re going for a stroll.”
“We are?” I looked around at the barren landscape, shivering in the punishing wind, then back at him, trying to assess his sudden shift in mood. His tone said that nothing was wrong, even though we’d barely spoken since he’d had to drag me back from killing a ship full of enemies.
“Lucina told me about something I thought you’d like to see.” He turned to follow the path, not looking back, as if sure I would follow.
Which of course I would. Putting aside my confusion, I followed him over winding, rocky terrain, between rocks and over hills and past frozen rivers until I was sure we were thoroughly lost. Scouts had combed this area of the island and pronounced it clear, so I wasn’t worried about running into the enemy, but the strange, barren landscape still unnerved me. We didn’t talk for a long time, but Arcus often put his hand out to help me over obstacles and rough ground, his expression placid in the silver moonlight.
“What are you trying to show me?” I finally asked, deciding to mirror his tone, as if everything were normal. “The effects of frostbite?”
“You’ll be warm soon.”
Doubtful. Unless he planned to throw me into one of the volcanoes. I stopped. “Are you taking me to a volcano?”
“Close.”
We crested a small hill and descended to an area of flat ground.
“Ah, here,” he said, striding toward a jumble of rocks, a cloud of white steam hovering overtop.
Arcus removed his cloak, then his sword, then sat to pull off his boots.
I put my hands on my hips, watching as he dropped one boot, then the other. “What are you doing?”
“Bathing. Or rather, I’m going to soak in unpleasantly hot water to please my lady.”
The term my lady sent a pleasant shiver through me. That didn’t sound much like he hated me or couldn’t forgive me, which filled me with relief. Moving closer, I saw that the steam rose from a roughly circular pool bordered by large rocks.
“What is this?” I dropped my blanket and unfastened my cloak. I could
already feel the heat coming off the water.
“A hot spring. It’s heated by lava running underground. Lucina gave me directions.”
“Bless that woman,” I said, meaning it. “I haven’t soaked in hot water since… since we were in the capital!” Far too long. Bathing on the ship consisted of warmed seawater, usually with a basin and cloth.
I took off my boots and started on my stockings. A flash of bare skin caught my attention. Arcus removing his tunic and linen shirt and…
Oh. His bare chest, sculpted and muscular, with curves and hollows leading to a flat stomach.
He grinned, reaching out to close my open mouth with a finger under my chin. “Hurry up.”
“Hmm?” It was unfair to have shoulders that broad. His arms bulged with muscle. I couldn’t tear my gaze away.
His grin widened, his eyes crinkling. “Don’t be shy.”
He turned away, drew off his trousers, and stepped into the water.
Fwuuhh. The air left my lungs in a rush. I would remember the view of that backside for as long as I lived.
I shook myself, pulling off one stocking, then the other. “Me? Shy?”
Well, maybe about this. But as this could be our last night together, I was determined to make the most of it. It seemed Arcus felt the same way, based on the fact that he’d brought me to a secluded pool and was currently naked. Maybe I hadn’t needed to worry about his forgiveness at all.
He sucked in a breath as he lowered himself into the steaming water, sinking shoulder deep. Then he turned to face me, leaned back against a rock, and watched expectantly.
“Fine, maybe I am a bit shy,” I admitted, hands on the hem of my tunic. “Turn around.”
He turned his head away. I whipped off my tunic, leggings, and underclothes as fast as I could, stepping readily into the steaming water.
“Ah, glorious!” I moaned, once everything lower than my shoulders was safely covered by water and steam.
Arcus turned back to face me, his grin gone, his eyes hooded.
“Did you peek?” I asked suspiciously.
“No!” His eyes lingered on the spot where water covered my breasts. “Maybe a bit.”
I hit the side of my hand against the surface of the pool, splashing him in the face. He laughed and splashed back.
“Wicked Frostblood,” I groused.
“Wicked Fireblood. Like you didn’t watch me.”
“Hmph. And you didn’t even turn around for me, did you? That was selfish.”
He laughed heartily. “You’re a menace, you know that?”
I splashed him again. “You love it.”
His eyes softened, his smile crooked. “Yes, I do.”
I dunked my head under the water, massaging my scalp with my fingers, then resurfacing.
I thought you were angry with me, I wanted to say as I watched him lounge against the rock, his head tilted back, his eyes closed. I worried you could never forgive me for what I’ve become. I was sure you were afraid of me now.
But those things would break the serene bubble that had formed over our little paradise. So instead, I murmured the most inconsequential thing that came to mind: “I wish we had soap.”
“Ah.” He glided toward his pile of clothes and produced a sliver of soap. I immediately took it and rubbed it between my palms.
“Lavender and mint,” I said, pleased and surprised. “Is this Brother Gamut’s soap?”
He nodded, watching me with a contented expression. “I know how much you like it.”
I took a deep pull of the scent into my lungs, feeling relaxed for the first time in… I couldn’t remember how long. Happiness buzzed inside me like a thousand sparkling stars. We were here, Arcus and I together, and his gaze was hot as the water, his voice like deep music, and he had brought me my favorite soap.
“Turn around completely,” I instructed, hiding a smile. “No peeking.”
He smirked at me, but he turned his back, and I lathered my hair and body, rinsed, then floated over to him.
His body jerked when my soapy hands touched his back.
“Stay still,” I ordered.
His skin was warm from the water. I took my time, lathering my hands and setting the soap down on a rock at the edge of the water before reaching up to cup his shoulders. I savored the strength in his arms as I slid my palms down, then back up to his neck, letting my fingertips explore the muscles there, massaging for a minute before gliding my hands down on either side of his spine, feeling the smooth skin covering ropey muscles. Strength and power, so carefully contained, even more attractive because he was unfailingly gentle unless forced to fight.
He was a protector, I realized. That was his nature. Gentle to those who wouldn’t harm him. Unfettered with anyone who threatened him or those under his protection.
I wasn’t so different, or at least, that’s how I wanted to be. That’s why I would do what was necessary when dawn came.
But no thoughts of that now. I meant to savor my last few hours with Arcus.
My throat was dry, my pulse rushing, skin alive from messages received through my hands about the shape and feel of him, so enticing, so perfect to me. It was a struggle not to just press myself against his back and kiss him senseless. But I didn’t want to do anything that would make him stop me, set me away from him with cooling words, the way he always did.
So I restrained myself. I picked up the soap for more lather, then my hands found his sides, discovering as he twitched that he was ticklish under his arms. I smiled, then slid my hands down to frame his waist.
“Have you ever thought about…” he said a little breathlessly, taking a second to swallow before continuing, “what our lives will look like after this?”
My chest constricted. So much for not thinking about the future.
“Of course,” I said lightly.
“And what do you see?” he asked, turning his head a bit toward me.
I closed my eyes, searching for what to say. Something optimistic. Something warm and bright, something about how wonderful it would be.
Instead, I blurted, “Your court will never accept me.”
“They will.”
That tone again. The king had declared it and it would be so. I rolled my eyes. “How do you know?”
“Because there are some things I can live without, but you are not one of them.”
My throat closed, my eyes stinging. My heart filled with something sweet, so sweet that I couldn’t even sense the darkness there.
“You are so beautiful,” I said in awe, watching as a shard of silver moonlight outlined his shape against the black sky. He was just too perfect for words.
“So are you, Ruby.” The emotion in his voice made my insides clutch. “You are the most beautiful thing in the world to me.”
Oh, too much. I closed my eyes, forcing the tears back. I didn’t want to waste this moment weeping. Time enough for that later.
Even so, one tear escaped down my cheek. Arcus turned just then, sucking in a breath. “Are you crying, love?”
“No.” I smiled at him through the tears. “Maybe a bit.”
He took the soap from my hands and set it down. When he held my hands again, his were trembling.
“I have something I’ve wanted to say to you for a long time. I would have.” He swallowed. “I meant to.”
He sounded as if he couldn’t catch his breath. He was scared. My heart lurched.
“Say it,” I said, squeezing his hands, looking up at him encouragingly. I swallowed, too. “Or we could say it at the same time.” I lifted a brow.
He gave a shaky laugh. “No, I’m not that much of a coward.” One more shuddering breath.
“Are you saying I am?” I narrowed my eyes at him, hoping to tease some of the nerves from him. “Since I haven’t said it yet, either?”
“Hush, woman. Let me say this.” But it had worked. He was smiling warmly.
I waited.
“I love you,” he said on an exhale, staring into m
y eyes. “Ruby.” He lifted my hands and pressed his lips to my knuckles, a fierce, hard kiss for each one.
Bands of steel seemed to wrap themselves around my chest. I couldn’t breathe. The tears spilled down my cheeks.
“I love you, too, Arcus.”
A crease appeared between his brows, his eyes overflowing with something stark and vulnerable. It was an ardent, almost pained expression that showed he was feeling a great deal more than he knew what to do with. I squeezed his hands again, loving that part of him. Loving the way he gave his whole heart, how he felt things so deeply, how only I knew how hard he worked to keep it all rigidly contained.
The moment was so poignant, almost as if he knew we would have to say good-bye tomorrow.
No. I forced the thought away.
His hands, still unsteady, framed my face. His lips brushed over my cheeks, my eyelids, my forehead, finally settling on my waiting mouth, moving sweetly, taking the time to tease before pressing hard. I parted my lips on a ragged sigh, giving him back everything he was giving to me. All his love was in that kiss. All of mine. Unbearably sweet. Almost painful.
“I need you,” I said, feeling the thud of my heart against his.
Instantly, the Minax woke. The feelings that had seemed so right a moment before spun rapidly out of my control, becoming something else, something frightening.
Oh no. Not now. My stomach lurched with disgust. For the creature to intrude now of all times. The thought was revolting.
I let go of Arcus, falling backward in the water, pushing my feet against his thighs for leverage, stopping when I’d reached the edge. I clutched one of the rocks, staring back at him over the distance that suddenly seemed much wider than a few feet.
“I’m sorry, Ruby.” He sounded full of remorse, and it made my heart ache. “I was selfish to bring you here.”
I shook my head. “No, I needed this. Needed to be close to you. And I was afraid after what I said and did on the ship that you were repulsed by me.”
“Never.”
“I wouldn’t blame you. It was the side of me you hate.”
“I could never hate you.” He said it with such conviction, I couldn’t help but believe him. “I should never have said that. It wasn’t you I couldn’t love. I love all parts of you, even the ones that drive me to distraction. I hate what that creature does to you. To us.”