Beyond the Crimson (The Crimson Cycle)

by Danielle Martin Williams

  I groaned, willing my body to move but my muscles wouldn’t comply and before I knew it I was being lifted into the air, thrown over his shoulder. I wanted to protest, but I didn’t even have the energy for that, so instead I closed my eyes because it was all I could do.

  He moved into a covered forest area where trees and large gnarled bushes sprawled from the ground and into a dome blocking the view of any unwanted guests. He set me down, dropping to the ground beside me. I hunched into a ball, finding the hard ground comforting as I fell in and out of sleep while my body worked to recover.

  Daylight slowly began to shine through the canopy of trees, seeping energy back into my veins. I pushed my tangled, salty hair that was still slightly damp—not quite drying during the cool night—out of my face and peeked over at him. He was sitting down, next to a fire that was blazing, holding his head in his hands as his elbows rested on his knees and oh my God, his shirt was off, revealing washboard abs that I had only seen in magazines. He hadn’t caught me drooling yet, so I forcefully pulled my eyes away from his incredible build.

  “Sorry,” I muttered, as I pulled myself to a sitting position; feeling terrible for being so feeble.

  He lifted up his head, green eyes slightly widened in shock. “Sorry? For what?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Putting you in danger, I keep holding you back,” I said, remembering his words from the forest. He was right; I was a burden.

  He laughed darkly. “I do not know any girls that would have done what you did. I should be apologizing to you for making you even go through this.” His eyes flickered with a small hint of wickedness, as the right side of his mouth curled into that beautiful arrogant half-smile. “But we both know I do not do that.”

  I smiled. “Well, apology accepted; hypothetically speaking of course.”

  He laughed again, standing up as he threw his shirt over his bare chest.

  “We better move on,” he said. “Caerleon is far from here.”

  “Caerleon?”

  He nodded. “It will be too dangerous to take you to Mordegrant’s,” he said as he strapped the metal forearm guards on, the only part remaining from his armor.

  “You lost all your armor,” I pointed out.

  He broke out his cocky half-grin, patting his sword that was still hanging at his hip. “Who needs armor?”

  *****

  I had taken the horses for granted; walking was a lot slower and far more exhausting as we hiked our way up through hills that ranged with different terrain and steepness, and walking in damp boots was anything but comfortable, but I was nervous to ask him to stop. After all, I didn’t want to be caught by the Black Army.

  He looked at me from the corner of his eye and must have noticed my struggle because he slowed down his pace. “Want to rest?” he asked.

  “I’m okay,” I lied, not wanting to hold him back.

  He laughed and grabbed my hand, pulling me off the matted path into the covered forest trees. He plopped down, resting his back against a large brown trunk, handing me a skin sack filled with water that was still attached to his belt. I sat beside him and drank it, thankful to stop.

  I laid down on my back, looking up to the bright sky that peeked its way through the tree tops making beautiful designs, listening to the quiet chirps of birds, and rustling of other creatures; feeling all my muscles slowly relax and beg for sleep, but I fought against it.

  He lay next to me with his hands across his stomach. “Missing that huge beast now, aye?” he asked playfully, turning slightly to me.

  I tilted my head to face his crooked grin, and I couldn’t help but smile back. “Yes, I’d even take your wild one,” I joked.

  He laughed. “I do not think I would like that much.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “What if you were to be hurt? I would have nobody to pull me out of enchanted forests.”

  I laughed loudly, running my hand across a cool patch of grass beside me. I loved him playful like this. It was a shame that it was a rare commodity, but I suppose that was part of what made it so special. “Maybe you will need to stay away from the enchanted forests.”

  He rolled to his side, propping his head up with his elbow to the ground, with a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Where is the fun in that?”

  I mirrored my body to his, watching as the little rays of sun danced on his face as intrigued with him as I was. “You think danger is fun?”

  He smiled, flashing his white teeth. “It is exciting. It lets you know you are living.”

  “But it puts you at a high risk of death.”

  He shrugged. “Death is not so bad.”

  I rolled onto my back, thinking about the death of my mother and grandfather, maybe it wasn’t so bad for the person dying, but it was horrendous for the ones who were left behind.

  “What is the matter?” he asked, suddenly serious.

  I shook my head, “Nothing, I was just thinking about my family.”

  “You miss them?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Worry not, Katarina,” he said facing the sky again, “I will make certain you get home.”

  “No, it’s not that. My mom died when I was twelve, you mentioned death and it just made me think of her and my grandpa,” I shrugged my shoulders, not wanting to get into it.

  “Oh,” he said sitting up, suddenly looking uncomfortable.

  I sat up too. “It’s not a big deal. I’m use to it.”

  He chewed on his thumbnail, scrunching his eyebrows. “What about your father?”

  I sighed, watching a small squirrel climb up the trunk of a nearby tree as a slow breeze grazed across my cheek. I hated talking about my dad, but he had told me the hardships of his life; I supposed it was only fair. “Well, he remarried after my mom died. I felt like it was too soon and his wife wasn’t really that kind to me, so I asked to live with my grandfather.” I shrugged my shoulders, uncomfortable with the subject.

  “So you are like me,” he said, looking off, “one parent in the ground and the other as cold as death.”

  “My father isn’t cold… he just…. Well…” I wrapped my arms around my legs, resting my chin on my knees. “I asked to leave.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You are his daughter; parents should want to keep their children.”

  I knew he was partly referring to his own past, but it wasn’t my dad’s fault I left; it bothered me that he thought so. “I wanted him to be happy and I was happier with my grandpa. It was fine.”

  “But now your grandfather is gone.” He pointed out, resting his elbow on his knees, clasping onto a chunk of hair as he looked at me with one eyebrow raised.

  “It’s fine,” I mumbled, glancing away.

  “Do you have brothers and sisters?” he asked, seeming rather interested with my life, which took me by surprise because he always seemed so easily bored. I shook my head.

  “Cousins?” he shot out rapidly.

  “I have two cousins but my aunt was adopted; she and my mom weren’t that close to begin with and after my mom died she almost disappeared completely. They live very far from me,” I smiled at him, stretching my legs out in front of me. “You’re fortunate to be so close with your cousin.”

  He smiled back. “I suppose…” then he laughed, looking straight ahead. “Although, I am not sure I would call myself fortunate.” He frowned, putting his hands on the ground behind him as he leaned back. “I am actually quite inauspicious.”

  I thought about his childhood and decided to not argue with him.

  “So if you are not with your family, where is your home then?” he asked, still surprisingly concerned with my life.

  “Well I live with my friend Stacey.”

  “And you belong there?” he asked, looking away almost as if he felt awkward asking it.

  I fiddled with a snag in the silky blue dress. “Yeah,” I twisted my mouth to the side not sure how to put it. “It’s not the same as it was when I lived with my grandfather or my p
arents, but it’s okay,” I mumbled. “It works for everyone.”

  “Everyone but you.” He sat upright again, as he shook his head and huffed out a breath. “You try to please people too much,” he said petulantly, face contorting into the familiar scowl. “It is better to not care about anyone. That way they cannot hinder you.” He looked straight ahead.

  “That seems awfully lonely,” I replied carefully.

  He shrugged his shoulders. “There are worse things in the world than to feel lonely.”

  I thought about how painful it was to lose my mom and my grandpa, and even to be separated from my dad, but would it really have been better to never have loved them at all? It couldn’t be. The memories I had with them, the things I learned from them, would never be replaceable.

  He looked at me, with dark eyes but they weren’t malevolent. “You really are innocent, Katarina,” he said with almost a scolding tone. “You know nothing about the darkness of this world or the people in it.”

  “Sometimes it takes darkness for the little lights to shine their brightest.”

  He huffed out another breath. “Maybe it takes the darkness to see that what you thought to be a light really never shined at all.” He glanced away from me, keeping his arms around his knees as he ripped apart a small piece of grass. “I like that you see the good in everything,” he said quietly, looking down to the grass in his hands, turning it over as though to examine the damage he had done. “But sometimes you just need to face the truth.” He bit his lip.

  “Then why do you care about your friends?”

  “I met them before I was wise enough to know better,” he said nonchalantly, keeping his eyes to the grass in his hands.

  “And what about Gawain?” I asked, knowing he had not grown up with him.

  He laughed, throwing the grass to the ground. “He understands me.”

  I smiled at the light in his eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “He is the only one who does not look at me with p—” he stopped suddenly, as he features hardened then shook his head slightly. “He thinks as I do, that is all,” he mumbled, picking at a callous on his palm.

  “And how is that?” I pressed, wanting to understand him.

  He laughed softly. “You certainly ask a lot of questions.”

  I smiled and leaned back on my hands, giving a slight shrug. “I like hearing about you,” I replied honestly.

  He raised an eyebrow, pressing his lips together. “Well, I certainly did not take you to be one for scary stories…”

  I smiled at him. “I’m not scared,” I joked.

  He faintly smiled and went back to picking at his palm. “It is nothing. He just understands the need to be free,” he paused a moment before looking up rather seriously then turned to me, “as should you.” He set his jaw firmly. “You do not have to be stuck anywhere, you are free.”

  I sat cross legged, pulling my hair over my shoulder as I began loosely braiding it. “It’s not that easy. I need to finish school so I can get a job and take care of myself. I can’t just pick up and leave. It’s different there than it is here.”

  He kept his right arm around his knees, pulling bits of grass out of the ground with his left hand, as he stared off into the distance again. “Would it be simpler here?” he asked, still looking off.

  My heart fluttered because for a brief moment I felt like maybe he wanted me to stay here, but I had to remind myself he didn’t feel the way I felt. “In some ways, but the future is filled with new advances that make life easier.”

  He turned to me and smirked. “Like electricity?”

  I smiled. “That and a lot of other things for example we don’t have to ride horses because we have cars.”

  “Cars?” he raised his eyebrows.

  “Yes, they are sort of like carriages but a motor makes them move instead of horses.”

  He wrinkled his eyebrows. “A motor? What kind of animal is that?”

  I laughed. “No it’s… well, it’s not an animal, it’s a machine made of metal and basically filled with gas. It ignites with a key, giving it power and makes the car move. We also have grocery stores, and when you want food you go to a store and it’s there. You want a hot bath, you turn it on, and its warm, and we have phones that can call anyone across the world at the touch of a button.”

  He shook his head, not understanding. “You said people in your world do not believe in magic, but it seems filled with it,” he stated, scrunching his right nostril almost disgustedly.

  “It’s not magic, it’s science.”

  “And what is the difference?”

  “Well, there are no evil sorceresses or wicked spells…” I said smiling.

  He laughed. “Well, I suppose that is good.” He shook his head slowly. “How is it easier here?”

  “Less rules…” I teased, looking at him as the wicked smile played at his lips.

  “Then I am glad I am here,” he said.

  “I’m glad I’m here too,” I said softly.

  He gave me a funny look, but deep in his eyes I thought I saw a glint of happiness.

  “You would be amazed if you could see it all,” I said quietly, but he only shook his head.

  “I would not survive there.” He moved to his feet and extended his hand to me. “Ready?”

  My smile dropped because it was true; he never would. I took his hand, and he yanked me to feet. He bent over to grab his sword, giving me just enough time to catch a flash of the most brilliant shade of orange and pink I had ever seen. I moved around him, and there in a thick green bundle of branches sat a group of large white flowers splashed with radiance so beautiful it was mesmerizing, and I reached out to take one.

  He grabbed my arm before I could pluck the gorgeous flower from its home and shook his head at me with a small grin on his lips. “Do not touch that one,” he said in a low voice, “it will fester through your flesh.”

  “What?” I asked, not sure if he was being serious.

  He smiled. “Beauty is deceiving.” He looked at me in such a way that if I didn’t know him I might have been afraid. “It is a wonderful trick,” he said darkly.

  “What do you mean?” I said, scrunching my eyebrows together.

  “It lures you in, makes you want it, then it destroys you when you least expect,” he said slowly. “Just because it looks good, does not mean it is.” He picked a simple white flower and tucked it behind my ear; my whole body tingled at his touch. His every move was enchanting.

  “That’s not true for everything,” I said softly, trying to ignore the flopping in my stomach.

  He gave me a small half-grin. “Well, I suppose you are an exception,” he said, looking down at me with his body very close to mine.

  My knees began failing me. “I was talking about you,” I breathed, looking up at him through my eyelashes, suddenly I very nervous around him; he was messing with my emotions again.

  The smile vanished. “Well, you are wrong,” he said quietly.

  I shook my head. “No, I don’t think I am.” I looked at him intently in the eyes, ignoring the fluttering in my heart and the trembling in my breath.

  He smiled playfully again. “No, you are not an exception?” he teased, smugly.

  I smiled back. “No, I’m not wrong about you.”

  “And how do you know?” he asked, lowering his eyebrow. He grabbed my hand, but this time he laced his fingers through mine as he led me back out to the main road, and I couldn’t stop staring our hands entwined together.

  “Because I see you,” I said, feeling slightly braver without his breathtaking face directly in front of me.

  “That is the point, Katarina,” he said, sounding exasperated. “The way you see me is not…” He shook his head. “I am like the flower; you have no idea what I am capable of doing.”

  “I know you’re brave,” I said, trying to focus but only feeling my hand tingle as I began realizing he still hadn’t let it go.

  He chuckled. “Monsters usually are.�
�

  “You’re kind-hearted.”

  He shook his head, but the smile stayed. “You need a heart for that, do you not?”

  “You are,” I said resolutely, “or else you wouldn’t be worried about hurting me.” It came out too quickly, and I regretted my words when he stopped dead in his tracks.

  He heaved his shoulders. “I did hurt you,” he said gruffly. He looked down, carefully turning his palm upward as he studied my hand in his. “You should not think so well of me.” He slowly untangled his long fingers from mine, pushing his hand up to his hair, clutching the small curl above his ear. “It would be easier if you despised me.”

  I shook my head, “I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

  “Well, you should,” he huffed, crossing his arms. “Ever since you have been here, I have only hurt you or endangered your life. I do not deserve any of your kindness.”

  “I’m fine,” I said, trying to get him to look at me, “and you’ve saved me from every danger I’ve encountered, that has to count for something.”

  He exhaled noisily. “Not from Theol.” The smile was long gone. He was different; dejected. He started walking again, roughly hitting a long branch that hung in the path. “After the feast, I spent all night contemplating ways to make you hate me. It would have been easy to do and it would have been better that way, but I was too selfish to go through with it.” His eyes tightened. “You thought yourself to be so clever leveraging the bracelet, but I could have effortlessly taken it and left long before any help found you. That would have been the gallant thing to do.”

  I almost wanted to laugh at his idea of being chivalrous, but I knew he was being serious despite his lack of knowledge or experience in the gentleman department, it was just who he was, and I couldn’t help but love it.

  He sighed deeply. “The truth is I am not good at all. I only care for myself, that is why I let you come, and that is why I left even when you begged me to stay. All I could see was the sword.” He stopped walking and looked off in front of him in that disturbing wistful way. “I still want the sword,” he whispered. Then he shook his head, looking irritated with himself. “I cannot be trusted,” he growled, refusing to look at me. “You have his blood on your hands because I cared more about myself than your safety. I really do not deserve any of your kindness, Katarina.” He sighed irritably and leaned his back against the tree lining the pathway.