by Kayla Maya
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Bryn picked at her meal, her fork puncturing a piece of cauliflower and tossed it to the side. She detested most vegetables. Especially peas and green beans. Her elbow was on the table, her cheek in her hand as her fork kept swaying over her leftover greens. She placed the fork down and glanced about, hoping to catch a glimpse of North. He had skipped before dinner mass and hadn’t shown up for dinner. Sister Grace didn’t question North’s disappearance, instead asking Bryn questions in preparation for tomorrow’s mission.
“Remember to keep your persona in place when you meet the royalty tomorrow.” Sister Grace dapped the sides of her mouth with her napkin. She picked up her glass of wine, swirling the dark red contents. “Lord Anderson is very eager to meet his enchanting wife.”
Bryn’s stomach dropped. She wasn’t very happy about being a wife to someone she knew nothing of. Not to mention, she didn’t understand why he was eager to meet her in the first place. Could it be that she was a Cyclone, perhaps? Or something else entirely? “As I am eager to meet him.”
“Good.” Sister Grace smiled and replaced her drink for her fork as she speared a piece of potato to pop into her mouth. “Hopefully, it won’t take you long to earn the king's trust enough to be allowed entry into his chambers. If not the king, then maybe his wife, the queen. I don’t care which you chose, so long as the job is done. Do you understand?”
“I do.”
Sister Grace nodded and stood, mumbling something about being tired and turning in for the night. Bryn knew she should do the same. They had a long journey ahead of them tomorrow. Sister Grace had told Bryn that they would travel through the Whispering Mountains, which was a longer travel than going through the Foreboding Mountain. She secretly relished being alone with North for a longer period; however, she still had a ton of questions to ask him. Especially, reassure him that she would keep his secret about not being a true believer in the Order of the Crow. Standing and saying her goodbyes to the disciples that ate quietly beside her, Bryn made her way to the grand hall to where the many pews were empty, save for the far bench with the crazed girl sitting by herself.
“Ericka?” Bryn made her way over to the woman, settling in beside her. “Are you okay?”
Ericka smiled as she swung her legs back and forth, back and forth. Her smile was rather large, almost devilish. “Hello, Cyclone.”
“No.” Bryn shook her head. “My name is Bryn.”
“The Cyclone is the only one nice to Ericka.” The woman frowned; eyebrows pitched together. “Ericka is unsure why the Cyclone is so nice. It gives Ericka more questions than answers.”
“I’m sorry?” Bryn cursed inwardly at her idiotic behavior. She had no idea why she still tried to get a thread of Ericka’s humanity out of her. Make Bryn and maybe everyone else in the Order notice that she is worth trying to save. That was the plan anyway. She could feel her resolve start to slip the more Ericka talked in third person and how she mumbled the ancient words of the gods. “I don’t understand.”
“Ezra understood Ericka.” The woman turned her attention to Bryn, eyes unfocused, and staring at nothing. “Until Ezra was taken away from Ericka because of selfish gods. Ericka has lost faith. Ericka has no hope.”
Bryn stood. “I’m sorry that your brother was taken from you. I should get going—”
Ericka reached out and gripped Bryn’s sleeve, nails digging into the fabric as she said, “Don’t trust them. They will do to you what they did to me.”
Bryn wanted to ask what she meant, but the woman slumped in her seat, eyes closed tightly shut, and her body slightly shaking. It took everything in Bryn not to reach out and touch Ericka’s shoulder. Silently, Bryn made her way out of the room and into the hall, where several disciples talked and milled about before heading off to bed. She made sure her head was down as she walked to her room, locking the door in place. Bryn knew she wouldn’t get much sleep if any, tonight. She was giddy with anticipation, but also beyond grateful to be out of the church for a good period. Sighing, Bryn drew the covers up to her chin and tried her hardest to drift off.
The next morning Bryn woke with a slight headache and a humming in her right ear. She hoped that she wasn’t catching a cold because then that meant her job at being Lady Illyea would become much harder. As much as she would love to be pampered for being sick, she couldn’t afford such a luxury. She had a job to do, and the sooner she got it done, the faster she could return home and disown being a Disciple of the Crow. Bryn’s hand went to the doorknob, stopping a fraction of an inch of the knob. Her thunderbolt necklace winked at her from the candle beside it. Biting her lower lip, she reached out and pocketed the jewelry before anyone would see. There wasn’t a single disciple insight for Bryn, so she quickly made her way outside the church and straight into Sister Grace and her entourage.
“Sister Bryn.” Grace held out her hands in welcome, a small smile on her face. “We, the Order of the Crow, thank you from the bottom of our hearts for taking on this mission and bringing peace to Skeg, and for liberating a small town.”
Irabor grunted, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the church, a glare marring his features. “Lord Anderson will be awaiting you at an inn right before you get out of the Whispering Mountain. When you do, you both will arrive at the same time to meet the royals and join in their festivities. Remember, Brother North is acting as a guard, so it would be best to keep your interactions sparingly. Understand?”
“I understand.” Bryn bowed at the waist, keeping her eyes averted and frown kept firmly in place. “I will do my best.”
“We have faith in you.” Sister Grace elbowed Irabor, who rolled his eyes and mumbled his answer. “We hope to hear from you regularly. North will no doubt take control of that, but in an event he does not, you are more than welcome to send a raven.”
Bryn nodded. North appeared from the side of the church, Apollo, and Lumiere, in each hand. His hood was over his features, a slight frown on his face as he handed Apollo’s reins to Bryn. It took all her energy not to smile and reach out to show her horse affection. She didn’t want to give Sister Grace a reason to suspect that Bryn wasn’t entirely faithful to the Order. If North didn’t believe and kept it this long, Bryn knew that she could do the same. However, it would be a long while before she would even try that.
“Take heed, my Disciples.” Sister Grace formed a sign with her hands, making her fingers hover over both North’s and Bryn’s forehead. “May Corvus be with you.”
“May Corvus be with you.” Both Bryn and North intoned.
Sister Grace nodded and took a step back, arms folded behind her as her hood flapped in the wind. Bryn rubbed the back of her head before she clambered up into Apollo’s saddle, clicking her tongue. North was already on Lumiere; horse pointed in the direction of the Whispering Mountain. Bryn sucked in a breath, and together, they made their way up the Mountain.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The area in the Whispering Mountain far surpassed Bryn’s expectations. While the Foreboding Mountain was dreary and filled with the unknown, the Whispering Mountain was bright and sunny. Wildlife scampered about, trees swayed in the wind, and the constant rays of sunshine were enough for Bryn to soak in every last greedy morsel. Even the path that they traveled on was inviting, just wide enough for someone to go to and from on either side like an open highway. She wondered why they took the Foreboding Mountain in the first place instead of this lively mountain they were on now. Bryn turned to the side as North ran a hand over his arm absentmindedly, no doubt recalling the earlier wolf attack some time ago.
“How’s your arm holding up?” She asked.
He quickly removed his hand from his arm to the reins of his horse. “It’s doing fine. Kind of sore, but fully healed. It hasn’t bothered me in the slightest until now, unfortunately.”
“Probably because it’s afraid of another pack of wolves.”
“Perhaps.”
They rode in silence for a while. Bry
n could sense that North was building a wall around himself to protect whatever it was he was trying to keep from her. The more she thought about it, the more her worry grew. She didn’t want North to become distant, nor did she want it to seem as if she were desperate for his friendship. Maybe even more than that. Bryn opened her mouth but kept it shut when she couldn’t think of anything at that moment to say. Instead, she began to hum a song that her father used to sing to her when she couldn’t sleep at night. She was transported back to that very same night, sitting on his lap by the window, staring at the stars as his soothing voice calmed her. It gave her the courage to talk with North, and maybe open up about her feelings towards him. She wasn’t in love with him; in fact, she had no idea what love even was. She had never experienced nor been in a relationship with anyone to even justify knowing what being in love meant. For now, Bryn would keep her feelings in check until she knew exactly what they meant, or how she could control it.
“I’ll keep your secret, you know.” Bryn cursed inwardly. Mentally kicking herself for bringing that up first in the conversation. “Just in case you weren’t aware…”
“I know.” North tilted his head to the side. “I’m sorry if I seem off. I just have a lot on my mind.”
“Such as?”
North turned in his saddle to glance back at her. “This heist. This would be the first in the history of the Order. It’s a big deal, and all the council members are rather excited about you helping them.”
Bryn noticed the way North had said “them” instead of “us.” Was he comfortable enough with her that he didn’t care to express his heresy? Was he also aware that she wasn’t a full believer herself? These were questions Bryn would no doubt ask, but at a later date in case she were to spook North off. Instead, she said, “Irabor didn’t seem too happy with me.”
“Irabor.” North snorted. “Is nothing but a glorified lapdog. He does anything, and everything Sister Grace wants him to. If she were to tell him to jump, he’d ask how high. I detest his presence almost as he detests mine.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing that wasn’t my fault. He chooses, or rather Grace chooses, whom he likes and dislikes. It’s no secret that Grace favors me since she practically raised me after liberating my home all those years ago. Because she favors me, it leaves little room for Irabor to settle in beside her as the co-leader. As you know, Grace never married, and she’s nearing the end of her fertility. The council has been shoving suitors down her throat for years, and just recently Irabor has opted to stay and win her favor and her bed.”
“But why doesn’t she marry?” Bryn asked.
“Distractions and because she said Corvus told her that she doesn’t need an heir because he will make her a goddess. More or less, the crow god’s wife if you ask me, which is why she always declines the council's order for marriage, and a child to carry on her will when she passes into the unknown. Because she treats me like a son, it just makes Irabor’s labors harder to bed Grace. It’s rather funny if you ask me.”
“It does sound comical.” Bryn scratched the back of her neck with her free hand. “Have you ever met this Lord Anderson?”
“In passing,” North replied. “He’s in his early thirties, I believe, and has yet to take a wife. Its bods well actually for your persona, Lady Illyea.”
“Yes, I know,” Bryn sighed. “I met and fell in love with Lord Anderson when he was traveling through my village. He found me interesting enough to marry me, and even though he is old enough as am I to bear children, he waits until the kings bless our union. Which I don’t really understand. If the church married us in the first place, then why would we need the king’s approval?”
“It’s custom. In the eyes of the church, you are husband and wife. In the land’s terms, unless blessed by the king, you are not a true couple. It’s weird, it doesn’t make sense, but it’s something we have to live by, Lady Illyea.”
“Please don’t call me that.”
“I have to. If I don’t start now, then I’ll forget and slip up when I address you to the king. Believe me; I’d rather call you by Bryn than anything. Oh, and before I forget, I’m going by my old name Axel so please address me as such.”
“Okay.” Bryn bit the bottom of her lip, fidgeting in her saddle. “Is uh, Lord Anderson handsome?”
“Objectively, so I suppose.”
“What does that even mean?! I don’t want no ugly man to share my bed with me!”
“He won’t.” North chuckled. “You’ll sleep in separate beds. Because the king hasn’t blessed your union, and likely won’t after first meeting you, you two must sleep apart in the event of one or the both of you wanting to be parents and conceive a child.”
Bryn couldn’t help but shutter. “I don’t think so.”
North continued to chuckle. “I figured you’d say that. Lord Anderson is a nice enough guy if you ask me from the times, we encountered one another. He’s very wealthy as well, so be careful around him when it comes to coin.”
“What do you think I’ll steal his valuables?” Bryn quirked a brow, her lips twitching as she tried desperately not to smile.
“You are the Raven Thief, after all,” North reminded her. “Which reminds me. Under no circumstances are you to steal anything of value while you are in the castle. If word catches wind of you in the castle, then our covers will be blown, and we will be hunted and killed for treason. Steal nothing but the mask.”
For the duration of the day, both North and Bryn conversed on the smallest of topics ranging from their favorite foods to their hatred of the world’s problems. Bryn was pleasantly surprised that she and North had a lot of the same likes. Her heart fluttered in her chest at how alike they both were, and it made her cherish their friendship. North asked her of her father and mother, about her array of siblings that thrived within her very tiny home back in Skeg. Of course, the only thing that they didn’t have in common was that she preferred to steal rather than work to gain her money, and North would rather work.
The smooth road changed to rough terrain; the width now thinned out for only one horse to walk along with one behind. The horses kicked up rocks and twigs, the gravel crunching underneath the horse’s weight. Apollo seemed to like the road because to Bryn, it appeared he was kicking the stones on purpose like a child playing with rocks. The area around became dense, the forest thickening the more they traversed the mountain. There was no fog that obscured their vision, so Bryn found herself enjoying the view of the forest. Still, there was a small niggling sensation on the nape of her neck, making the hairs on her arms stand straight up. The horses weren’t spooked, so she settled into her saddle, trying to calm her nerves.
Pretty soon, the day had sunk into darkness. The gnarled branches seemed to thrash about as a strong gust of wind tore through the forest, leaves struggling to hold their grip as they were torn from their home. The branches seemed to Bryn as if they were reaching out to the full moon as if seeking for forgiveness. An owl hooted off in the distance, the small howl of a coyote following suit farther in the dense forest. Apollo snorted, pawing the ground with his hoof as he swung his head back and forth. Something was here. Bryn opened her mouth, but North whirled on her, placing a finger to his lips for silence.
A set of bushes swayed in front of the duo, snorting emanating from within. Bryn prayed that it wasn’t any more wolves because she had no idea how she would be able to handle another attack like before. She didn’t know if North would be up for another wolf attack either. A large, blundering mass of dark brown fur tumbled from the bushes, tiny rounded ears pricking at the sound of Apollo’s snort. The grizzly bear’s dark beady eyes met Bryn’s for a fraction of a second before it too huffed like her horse. The bear stood on its hind legs; head cocked to the side as it assessed them before dropping back down on all fours. With a flick of its stubby tail, it turned and went on its merry way back into the forest without a trace.
“That was close.” North wiped his brow with the ba
ck of his hand. “I’d say we’d better turn in for the night. There might be a small cave nearby we can rest under in case it rains during the night.”
Bryn waited as North disappeared into the forest, only to come back out a few minutes later with a smile on his face. He waved Bryn on, and she kicked Apollo into gear, the horse neighing at being kicked in the side. They followed North until a small outcropping of rocks were in view, a mouth of a small cave seeming inviting to Bryn. She yawned. She hadn’t realized how tired she’d been throughout this whole journey back home. She brought out her sleeping back from her saddle, unrolling it as North built a fire from a few twigs. Bryn settled next to the fire as North brought out his own saddle roll for him to sleep on. She tried desperately to stay awake and talk with him more, but sleep dragged her down into darkness.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Unfortunately, after riding for several days, Bryn could feel her thighs start to quake and give in. No matter how much she tried to massage them while they rode, she still couldn’t stop the twisting muscles relax. There was a reason why she never rode horses back in Skeg. Well, one because she never had the opportunity and two, because she had no need for it. They had been on the road for a little over two days and today marked the third day. Luckily, they would reach the inn by the end of the forest by nightfall, which meant a nice warm bed and a hot meal. As much as she enjoyed North’s company and the outdoors, she still couldn’t help but miss and crave an actual bed and a stuffed belly.
North had been silent most of the day, despite Bryn’s constant prodding. She wanted to get to know him better, to expand on their relationship. She couldn’t deny the affection she had for North. It grew with each passing day. Anything and every little thing he did, she found fascinating, if not rather attractive. More than once, she scolded herself for thinking of the disciple in such a way. For all she knew, he could think her nothing more than a nuisance, a pesky insect that buzzed around with no remorse. Bryn sighed, trying to massage her thighs once again one-handed. Surely, they wouldn’t have long, now could they? A warm bed and a hot meal were calling Bryn’s name.