Chapter 15
Fifteen
SENAN
Looks like I have a one-way ticket back to Kumulus inside an old trunk. If I wasn’t so fucking wrecked, I’d be humiliated.
Everything we own has been packed into two rucksacks. My love helps me tie my boots, and my brother assists me with my coat. If I survive this whole ordeal, I will be in for quite the earful from him. As it stands, he doesn’t waste time with reprimands, instead keeping his disapproval between buttoned lips as he waits for me to finish.
The plan is for him to bring me up first in case we only have one shot at making it through the portal. I am the one dying, after all, and Allette is more than capable of taking care of herself in this realm.
It’s all shit if you ask me.
“Aeron? Can you give us a moment? I want to say goodbye.”
Goodbye .
The word sounds so final; I hate the taste of it on my tongue.
He huffs like I’m an inconvenience, but twists for the door. Once he’s gone, I take both of Allette’s hands in mine, darting a glance back at the entrance to ensure we’re alone. “I’m still not convinced that he can be trusted. For all we know, we could be flying straight into a trap.”
I realize that if Aeron wanted to betray me, he could’ve brought an entire army with him through the portal. Still, one can never be too cautious, especially where one’s mate is concerned.
“The moment we leave, I want you to hide in the attic. When he comes back for you, I’ll instruct him to call you Allette Vale if it’s safe. If he doesn’t use that exact name, I want you to stay hidden until he leaves and then run the first chance you get.”
Her lower lip starts to tremble as tears fill her eyes. “Senan…”
“Please, Allette. I cannot bear the thought of something happening to you. Promise me.”
Her fingers tighten around mine. “All right. I promise.”
The thought of leaving her behind, of returning to Kumulus on my own, wreaks havoc on my withered soul. If only we had another choice.
Allette leans forward, pressing her lips to mine.
She tastes of sorrow. She tastes of farewell. “I will see you in a few hours,” she murmurs.
Although I return the sentiment, I sincerely hope it isn’t a lie.
I cradle my pack in my arms as Aeron and I make our way to a clearing near the house. I tried putting the thing on only to abandon the idea when the strap hit what’s left of my right wing. “Where will we go when we reach Kumulus?”
Aeron doesn’t bother glancing at me as he lugs the empty trunk across the snow. “There’s a small village on the Direc, near the bay. Shouldn’t take more than thirty minutes to reach.”
With guards on high alert for the missing princess, staying outside the city is the smartest move. The Direc River is the official border between Kumulus and Aeron’s kingdom, Stratiss, an ideal hideout if you ask me.
He drops the trunk onto the ground, and the lid falls open. “Come on. In you go.”
Puking blood all over myself night after night isn’t nearly as mortifying as having to fold myself into a musty old trunk that he found in one of the back bedrooms.
His black wings appear from between the slits in his jerkin. Does he realize how lucky he is that our brother left him whole? Does he appreciate the freedom his wings afford?
“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” I grumble, sinking down, clutching my knees to my chest and flopping on my side. The way I have to contort my neck hurts like hell.
“Yes. I love the fact that my brother has all but killed himself and now I am forced to carry his sorry ass.” Aeron flips the lid closed, encasing me in darkness. I hear him stomping around, fastening the clasps.
“You’re a sorry ass.”
His muffled chuckle makes me want to punch him. “You mustn’t be well if that’s the best comeback you have.”
The trunk bobbles as he hoists me into the air. Hopefully, he doesn’t end up dropping me in the river and saying good riddance.
Whose idea was this, again? I’ve changed my mind?—
The force of his takeoff plasters me to the wood. I feel each pump of his wings as we climb higher and higher.
This is fine. Everything will be fine.
I’m not going to die. We’re going to find the princess and the antidote and live happily-ever-after.
“Deep breath,” Aeron roars over the sound of beating wings.
Black liquid floods through the keyhole. I press my thumb to the lock, so I don’t end up drowning in starlight. Someone shouts, and my brother responds with a deep bellow.
A short while later, the trunk hits the ground, rattling my bones. My heart pounds as I wait to see what awaits me outside this box. For all I know, Boris could be standing over the trunk, ready to run me through.
The lid flips open.
When I dare to stick my head out, I find only Aeron and his scowl waiting in a dark alley. Wooden homes rise on either side, the windows covered in cobwebs.
It’s all a bit anticlimactic if you ask me.
Then again, what sort of threat would a dead man be to the king?
A grave one, if I have my way.
A cold, fishy wind drifts over me, turning my stomach. The air down here tastes like licking seaweed—fucking revolting.
Aeron helps me to my feet, keeping a hand on my bicep. “Can you walk, or do I need to carry you?”
“Fuck off. I can walk just fine.” I mean, my leg is asleep, but I’m not going to tell him that. The pins and needles will eventually subside.
When I try to take a step forward, my dead leg doesn’t get the message, and I collapse into one of the stone walls.
“Just fine, huh?” Aeron hoists me upright, this time refusing to let go despite my protests.
We emerge from the alley and end up right next to a stall selling salmon, the disgusting creatures flayed atop a bed of ice, their eyes bulging and mouths gaping.
A few Tuath mill around, their cloaks and coats pulled tight to their necks to stave off the dampness clinging to the pungent air.
The inn he brings us to is green—and not from paint, but from mold. The sea’s damp air rots everything it touches, from the buildings to the boats docked in the bay to the people themselves.
You must be a little mad to live next to the sea.
Give me a quiet mountaintop chalet over these squatty homes any day.
Of course, this is the Tuath part of town. The Scathian homes would be made of thick plaster and painted white, with roofs a thousand shades of blue where they sun themselves.
Aeron keeps his steps slow as we traverse the slick, knobby cobblestones to the inn’s front door. The interior bustles with men in knitted caps who look like they’ve been formed from barnacles and brine.
A man with skin the color of slate greets us with a stern nod, standing from his stool and hobbling forward. When he gets closer, I catch a glimpse of a peg leg protruding from beneath the hem of his trousers.
Fascinating . How high up does it go? How did he lose it?
Probably a fish.
Aeron nods toward the row of bronze keys hanging on hooks behind the desk. “I’d like a room for two, please.”
The man’s gaze shifts past Aeron to me. The longer he stares, the more his eyes narrow. “What’s wrong with ’im?”
Rude.
My attempt at a smile ends in a grimace as sweat breaks across my brow.
Aeron clamps a hand on my shoulder, giving me a bone-rattling shake. “My cousin drank a little too much down at the pub and needs to sleep it off.”
At least the lie explains my swaying. Are we on dry land or the sea?
A cough suddenly tightens my chest. I try to swallow it down but end up spluttering into my coat instead. Of course, my luck is shit and the man sees all of it.
His jowls shake as he tucks his nose and mouth into the collar of his shirt. “Get out, the both of you. I’ll not have the wasting infecting my patrons.”
I don’t have the fucking wasting.
“He doesn’t have the wasting,” Aeron says.
“You’ll not play me for a fool, sir. I know the wasting when I see it.”
I’ve seen the wasting too, and it is nothing like what’s killing me. For one, I’m upright. Once the wasting strikes, its victims are on their backs for the rest of their too-few days.
“He’s a duster, all right? It’s the stars that are killing him.”
Nothing like coming right out and saying it. I’m too fucking wrecked to be embarrassed. Besides, everything he said is the truth.
Aeron jabs me in the ribs. “Show him.”
Show him what?
My brother taps his palm.
I hold up my hand so the man can see the scars I’ve put there. The innkeeper still doesn’t look convinced until Aeron unfastens his purse and tosses it onto the desk, jangling the coins inside.
Damn, that sounds like a lot of gold.
Aeron braces both hands on the edge of the desk, his voice dropping to a low, lethal tone. “For your hospitality…and your silence.”
He can be an intimidating bastard when he wants to be. Growing up, it was annoying because he always used it to get his way. Right now, though, it’s awfully handy.
The man swipes the purse and opens the top; his mouth drops open like one of those fish from the stalls. “Room 204,” he says, still fixated on the purse as he fumbles for one of the keys and slides it across the desk to us. “It’s yours for as long as you need it.”
It always amazes me how quickly people are willing to turn a blind eye if you throw enough gold at them.
Aeron thanks the man and braces my arm across his shoulders like we’re about to dance a reel. The smart comments on my tongue remain unsaid as he hauls most of my weight up the stairs.
The truth is, I’m grateful that he put himself in danger for me. Because of him, I have a chance to live. A chance I don’t plan on squandering like I did the last time.
He props me against a doorframe at the far end of the hallway and sticks the key in the lock. The door swings open, the room smelling surprisingly fresh. I stagger forward, my feet catching on each other right before I flop onto the bed. With a muttered curse, Aeron drags off my boots, rolls me over, and tucks the blanket around me.
“I’m going back for her,” he says.
For a second, I consider asking him not to bring Allette here.
Consider telling him to pack up as much gold as possible and leave it on her doorstep so that she can be safe.
But the thought of betraying my girl cuts me in two. If the past has taught us anything, it’s that neither of us do very well when we’re apart. “She’s hiding.”
Aeron’s eyebrows climb toward his hairline. “Why?”
“I didn’t know if you were leading us into a trap.”
“I would never?—”
“I know.” I do now, anyway. “When you reach the house, shout for Allette Vale.”
He turns and starts for the door.
“Oh, and Aeron? This place is shocking. I expected more from a prince of the realm.”
His chuckle, followed by the sound of the key in the lock, are the last sounds I hear as my eyes sink closed. I drift off, praying I don’t die without knowing whether or not Allette is safe.