Relinquish: Book II of the Rising Trilogy

by Miles, Amy

  He nods and wraps his arms around me, sealing me into his embrace. I close my eyes as the first tears form and I hide them in his shoulder. There are some things I still can’t show him. “I’ve missed you,” he murmurs against my hair.

  I dig my fingers into his back, praying that this moment will not end, but as with all things, there is almost a finality to it. Before I’m ready, Eamon unwraps my arms from around his neck, clasping them against his chest.

  I can’t remember the last time we stood like this. Was it beneath the shadow of the Shard after Bastien left me? No, I don’t think even then it was this pure. It must have been before that.

  “I’m afraid,” I whisper as I lay my hands against his chest, feeling the steady pulse of his heart beating just beneath the surface.

  “Me too.”

  “Not just of this mission. Of everything. I have been for a long time. I just…” I trail off as I see the flash of hurt cross his face. It is fleeting but present all the same.

  He releases his hold on my hands and steps back. “Isn’t it ironic how we wish for so many things at the end, when we thought we had all the time in the world to mend the hurts?”

  I nod, knowing exactly what he means. Things should’ve been different between us. Instead of lashing out at each other, we should’ve bonded together, stood strong side by side to face what would come. Instead, we broke.

  “I don’t blame you,” I whisper. “I mean, it hurt, but I know you didn’t back away to cause me pain.”

  “Never.” His lower lip trembles as he shoves his hands back into his pockets. “There has never been anyone but you, Illyria. That’s why I need you to stay with me. Don’t go on this mission.”

  I close my eyes to his pleading, knowing if he’d said these words sooner, I might have been swayed. “It’s too late now, Eamon.”

  “I know.” He slumps back against a tree and hangs his head. “A guy can still hope, right?”

  “Always.” My voice cracks and I can feel my control starting to fragment. I rush forward and throw myself into his arms, burrowing into his chest one last time. The warmth of his tears patter against my face. I clench my eyes shut, praying he isn’t right, that we will see each other again soon.

  A whimper rises in my throat and I thrust back, needing to flee. I turn to run and stop short, shocked into utter silence. Bastien!

  I can’t breathe. My lungs literally refuse to expand as I stare across the small clearing at Bastien. An odd, croaking sound rises from my throat as I step hesitantly forward. “What…?” I swallow, feeling as if my throat is suddenly parched. “What are you doing here?”

  Bastien looks beyond me, his expression darkening. “I assumed you would know I was coming.”

  His brow pinches with disapproval as Eamon stands up beside me. When Eamon reaches for my hand, I wrench away from him, stepping back. “You knew? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I wanted to. I tried to but…” He glances away, appearing to struggle to swallow. “It doesn’t matter. He’s here now.”

  “Doesn’t matter?” The pitch of my voice rises to glass-splintering heights. “How can you say this doesn’t matter? Didn’t I have a right to know? You can’t just drop this… him on me and expect me to be okay with this!”

  I begin to pace, wringing my hands before my stomach. All hope of playing this off cool went out the window after the first unattractive croak. Now all bets are off.

  “Should I come back?” Bastien asks, clearly uncomfortable, yet I realize also infuriatingly amused by the scene he’s stepped into.

  “No!” Eamon and I both shout at the same time. I double over and grasp the back of my knees, fighting for a calm that I know is currently residing about a hundred miles from here. “I just… I need a moment.”

  I can feel my panic rising. I can’t handle this. Why does fate have it in for me? One gut-wrenching good-bye wasn’t enough? Now they have to throw an imploding heart into the mix as well?

  I’m acutely aware of Bastien crossing the clearing, his steps strong and confident. I used to love that about him, but right now it’s driving me mad. I hold out my hand and he stops less than ten feet away. “Please. I can’t…”

  From upside down, I see him raise his hands in surrender. I suck in another breath and count to ten. It doesn’t help so I hold out for a full twenty count before I release my breath.

  “Does she always do this?” Bastien asks.

  “Never seen this before,” Eamon responds.

  I rise back up, my ponytail whipping past my vision as I take my time to glare at both of them. “I’m standing right here.”

  Bastien’s eyes narrow, but he says nothing. Eamon starts to protest but cuts off when I shoot him a withering glare. “I want answers and I want them right now.” I plant my hands on my hips, widening my stance in attempt to keep my knees from quaking. My control of my powers is tremulous right now. Ripples of energy vine down my arms in waves, sparking over my clothes.

  “Illyria…” Bastien reaches out his hand toward me but draws it back.

  “Start talking, Eamon.” My fists clench tightly against my hips, my nails carving deep ruts into my palms. I can feel the warmth of the blood that spills around my nails, seeping between my fingers, but I don’t release my grip. I can’t. Not until I have myself under control.

  Eamon clears his throat and I try to focus on his face. He is paler than usual, making the ruddy tint to his cheeks all the more prominent. “Kyan hinted that someone from Bastien’s base would be coming to collect you. I swear I didn’t know he would come himself.”

  “Of course you did,” Bastien growls. I can feel the pent-up anger writhing beneath his calm exterior. Perhaps he isn’t as amused as I first thought. “Do you really think I would entrust her safety to anyone else?”

  Eamon kicks at the ground, obviously less than thrilled to be put on the spot. “I didn’t think––”

  “Exactly,” I roar, leaping into the middle of their conversation. “You didn’t think.”

  A strong gust whips my hair against my neck. A second sends a flurry of icicles lancing toward the ground. “Illyria?” Bastien shifts.

  “I’m on it.” I grit my teeth and take another round of calming breaths. It helps, minimally, but I’m still ticked at Eamon’s deception. Bastien is right. He should’ve known.

  I try to focus on things other than the frustrations simmering within. Like the fact that Bastien’s hair has been cut short and spiked up at the front. Why didn’t I notice that when he saved me back at Drakon’s hideout? I liked him better with longer hair.

  Another stark change is his eyes, deep sapphire and filled with emotion. The dull, lifelessness of them has haunted my dreams for months. The day I chose Eamon over him, the glow was drawn from his gaze. It hurts now knowing I’m not the reason for bringing that life back to him.

  A new scar runs down the hollow of his cheek, still bearing the reddened signs of new flesh. Another faded scar appears over his right eye, a few shades lighter than the warm tone of his skin. He is bathed in a bronze glow that speaks of hours spent in the sun.

  Gone is the boy who swept me off my feet not so long ago, showering me with kisses that could’ve melted the ice caps. Standing before me now, I see a battle hardened man who seems a bit too adept at keeping his thoughts in check.

  As the winds die back down, Bastien releases a breath I hadn’t known he was holding. His hand shifts away from his side and I realize with a start that he had been reaching for a stun gun.

  “You would have shot her?” Eamon rages, surging past me to face off with Bastien, whose gaze never leaves mine.

  “I remember what happened the last time she lost control.” Finally, he shifts to look at Eamon. “Have you forgotten?”

  “Of course not. I seem to remember you were the exact reason she nearly wiped Thalar off the map.”

  “Exactly,” Bastien growls, rising to his full height. “Which is exactly why you should have warned her ahead of time.�
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  Ice and fire go toe to toe yet again. I hold my breath, silently pleading for an end. I can’t do this again. I just can’t!

  “Enough!” Both men turn to look at me, then shift their gaze beyond me. I look to my left and groan, realizing when I threw out my arms, I also tore the trees on either side of me up from the ground by their roots. “Oh, for goodness sake,” I grumble and chuck the maple trees aside as if they were mere sticks instead of hundred-year-old timbers.

  “You two bickering like the old days isn’t going to solve this. Bastien is here to take me back to his base and I’m ready to leave.”

  “But—” Eamon grabs my hand and yanks me toward him. I stumble on my footing and slam into his chest, crying out as my nose connects with his breastbone, and then slump to the ground.

  Bastien is instantly at my side. I cry out as Bastien slams his foot into Eamon’s abdomen and sends him sprawling. “Touch her again and I promise you’ll regret it,” he threatens ominously as he stands between us, shielding me.

  “Just let it go, Bastien,” I mutter as I rub the end of my nose to make sure nothing is broken.

  He whirls around, staring at me with sheer disbelief. “You’re just going to take that from him?”

  “It’s not… He’d didn’t mean to hurt me. He was just upset…” I trail off, knowing my lame explanation isn’t helping Eamon’s case.

  “She’s not yours to protect anymore,” Eamon grunts as he rises, clutching his ribs. No doubt Carleon will have to do some repair work on him when we get back to camp. “She’s mine.”

  He just had to go one step further, didn’t he? I close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose as a pounding begins to grow.

  I don’t have time to react before he is atop Eamon, rolling side to side as he land blows hard enough to bruise bone.

  “Well, this is going well,” a voice calls from behind me.

  I turn to see Carleon walking toward me. “How did you find us?”

  “It wasn’t too hard, what with the tree tossing and all the shouting.” He stares past me, shaking his head. “Was this what it was like before Bastien left?”

  “Yeah,” I mutter. “Something like this.”

  “Looks like Bastien hasn’t forgotten you after all.” He glances at me from the corner of my eye.

  My lips thin into lines of annoyance. “Either you stop them or I will.”

  Carleon watches as Bastien rears back and slams his fist into Eamon’s nose. Blood splatters fly at the sound of cracking bone. “You might want to take this one. I don’t fancy getting in the middle of that.”

  “Fine.” I heave a sigh and mentally wrench to the guys apart, pinning them on trees lining opposite ends of the clearing. “Cool off,” I command.

  “Let me down,” Eamon growls, fighting against my hold.

  “Not when you’re about to do something you’ll regret.”

  Eamon locks a crazed glare onto Bastien, his lips peeled back into a full snarl. “I’d never regret it.”

  “I’d like to see you try,” Bastien goads. His right eye looks a bit worse for wear, but it’s no surprise to see he’s in far better shape than Eamon. He always was a great fighter.

  “Enough!” I slowly lower both of them to the ground, ready to yank them apart again if necessary. Thankfully, it isn’t.

  The sound of a laser charging surprises me. I turn to find Carleon with his gun leveled on Eamon. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  Eamon’s eyes narrow. “You would threaten your commanding officer?”

  “Nope. I’m threatening my friend.”

  Under normal circumstances, I would have found the unusually serious edge to Carleon’s tone amusing. Despite his brash and rather reckless sense of duty to protect me, I am proud of him. “It’s okay.” I place a hand over his arm, urging him to power down. “I can handle this.”

  “I know, but I’ve got your back, just in case.”

  Bastien appraises Carleon. “I think this guy’s starting to grow on me.”

  “That’s because he’s on your side,” Eamon snaps. He slumps back against the tree, looking winded and forlorn. He shakes his head back and forth, eyes clamped shut as if what he’s feeling is a physical pain. Judging by the beating he took from Bastien, he probably is.

  I lower my gaze, unable to see him like this. “I have to leave, Eamon. Please don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

  I wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t even look at me. I bite on my lower lip and turn away. I clap Carleon on the arm as I pass. “Take care of him for me.”

  “Of course.” He smiles and pats my hand as I let it slip away. “Let’s talk over here.”

  I let him pull me aside, feeling as if I’m about to unravel at the seams. My fingers quake as he takes me into his arms. “Are you okay? That got pretty intense back there.”

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

  “And what about Bastien?” Carleon casts a pointed glance in his direction.

  Even now, looking at him feels like a punch to the gut—wonderful, amazingly painful. Why does he have to look so irresistible even when he’s angry? “He’s just a guy, right?”

  Carleon laughs. “Sure.” He continues to stare at Bastien, so I elbow him in the ribs. “Sorry. It’s just…” He leans in closer to whisper in my ear. “I think I sort of have a man crush on him.”

  A giggle bursts past my lips. I bury it in his shoulder as I feel some of the earlier tension lift momentarily. Leave it to him to make me laugh when I need it most. “I’m serious. Have you seen that guy?”

  I sober instantly. “Yes, every night in my dreams.”

  Carleon grimaces. “Sorry. Guess that wasn’t the best thing to say.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I think Bastien has that effect on most people.” I pat him on the back and pull away from his embrace. “Thank you, for everything.”

  Bastien casts a darkened glance at Eamon but says nothing as he turns to follow me. The walk back to camp is silent and unsettling. It feels weird for him to be here beside me, but even more so that he didn’t hesitate a second to leap to my defense.

  I know Eamon didn’t intend to hurt me. He was upset and didn’t realize how hard he pulled me forward, but Bastien doesn’t know him like I do.

  The pounding in my head mounts as I spy a spiral of smoke rising from the center of camp. Tents have been set up and appear to be occupied. Bodhi’s droning snores escape from the canvas near the rear of camp. I grab my pack and sling it over my shoulder.

  No farewell. No wishes for a successful mission. “Are you ready?” Bastien asks.

  I glance one last time around my camp and feel a surprising, yet profound sense of homesickness. “Yes. I’m ready.”

  Nine

  The winds whistle through the trees, whipping my hair against my face and tangling with my downturned lashes, but I hardly notice. I feel completely out of sorts, not just over having left Eamon in such a terrible way, but also because of who it is that walks before me

  Bastien.

  Seeing him twice in one month is almost more than I can fathom. I used to dream about what it would be like to see him again. Would he still be the haunted man I’d grown to hate or the smug boy who could irritate me with whip-like speed? What I find before me is neither of those yet both at the same time. He is a walking contradiction that shouldn’t even be here to start with.

  I don’t like how distracted I feel, how my gaze keeps rising enough to notice the way his uniform fits his muscular form to perfection. He has put on some weight since I last saw him, but it is housed in thick ropes of muscles. I can see it in the definition of his calves as he leaps over small trickling streams and weaves around downed trees.

  Strong, powerful arms propel him over rocks large enough to provide a challenge. He moves with the ease and grace of a man who grew up in the forest, yet I know he didn’t.

  The sunlight overhead is dappled, ever shifting with the waving evergreen branches. The scent
of pine is strong as we begin our final descent, emerging from the mountains into smaller foothills. More of the large hill variety, really.

  I pause atop a boulder, partially sunken into the dark, fertile soil, to stare out at the landscape before me. Once-beautiful oak and maple trees now stand barren, squeezed out by a thick overgrowth of pine and spruce. Needle boughs dance in the winds, carrying their scent for miles.

  The sky is clear today. No hint of cloud for as far as I can see. The rich blue is breathtaking, the fresh air filling my lungs invigorating, burning in my throat.

  I can hear Bastien’s feet crunching a noisy path along the snowy forest floor ahead. Last year’s leaves have been trampled underfoot by wildlife, beginning the stages of decomposition that will feed the earth for another year. Pinecones poke up from the snow amid a blanket of browned needles.

  Bastien pauses and glances back over his shoulder at me. I try not to acknowledge that my gaze automatically searches his eyes. What is it that I am looking for? I don’t really know the answer to that. Maybe a sign that he missed me as much as I missed him.

  Keep your head down and move. One foot in front of the other. That’s all that matters right now, I silently scold as I leap to the ground and hurry to catch up.

  I keep pace with Bastien as the sun climbs the sky, chasing away the shadows from the land, but I remain back several feet. His questioning gaze unsettles me. Bastien has always seen too much, known and understood far more than he should about me. It was one of the things that annoyed me in the beginning but then endeared me to him in the end.

  He never asked me to be anything but what I was. He believed in me when all others feared me. He alone loved me for exactly who I am.

  There have been several backward glances and troubled looks as we wind through an unseen path, ever moving south. Although he plows ahead with the same confidence that Eamon showed, there is something disturbingly different about Bastien. It is almost as if this land is well known to him.

  Has he been here before? Been within only a few days of our city? An even darker thought makes my pace slow. Has he come into Thalar without my knowing?