SEVENTEEN
Angharad
Her right ear still burned where she had ripped out the black bead and left it in the room of stones.
It was as raw and aching as her heart.
When she made the short climb from the ledge outside her room to the top of the cliff, she felt an uncanny sense that she had done this before.
There was the stream that tumbled over the cliff in a wispy waterfall, and her steps led her to it.
Walk in the water.
Her mother’s voice came back to her from long ago.
They cannot track us if we stay in the water.
Hara removed her boots and stepped into the stream.
It was cold but bearable, and Hara was relieved that it was early summer.
Her steps were slow as her feet slipped over rocks, but hopefully, no one would begin looking for her until dawn’s light when they opened the door to the stone room.
Soon thick spruce trees gave her cover, and the city in the valley at her back became obscured.
The only sounds were the chuckling of the stream and the sleepy sounds of birds as they came to roost.
She had a light pack swung across her back containing the few things she had taken from the palace, but it began to feel heavy after a few hours of trudging uphill in the stream.
Her feet were icy and numb, and it was becoming harder to see where she was stepping.
The wind was picking up, and when Hara began to feel spatters of rain across her face, she thought it best to seek shelter for the night.
Fortunately, she spied a massive boulder fall up ahead.
It looked as though it had once been part of the mountain face, but had tumbled down to rest in the forest.
She stepped upon the bank and hobbled with numb feet to the rocks, searching for an opening.
She found a space where two enormous slabs of rock made a natural cave that went deep enough to block the wind.
The ground was carpeted in old spruce needles, but it was dry.
She removed her pack and took a cylindrical hand lantern from it, tapping it twice.
The lantern glowed with warm orange light, and she set it on a rock ledge well out of sight of the entrance.
She spread a blanket on the ground, the fabric instantly heating at her touch as though it had spent time hanging before a fire.
There were many things she would take from her time in the palace, good and bad, but the modern comforts were much appreciated.
She tucked her feet beneath her to warm them and stared into the lamplight.
The tapestry in the room of stones led to many chambers connected to the Commander’s suite, including his own private kitchen and a supply closet, but in her haste, Hara had gone straight to her own room to quickly stuff a bag and make her escape.
There had been nothing in her room that she could use as rope unless she wanted to tarry and tie bedsheets together.
Then she’d remembered the ball of wool Gertrude had given her back in the village.
She had pulled it from her reticule and kissed it, thanking the old woman. It did not take long to transform the yarn into steel.
Hara removed her damp clothing and dug a thick, warm nightdress from her pack.
She rolled on some woolen stockings and laid down, curling into a ball and feeling very alone.
This was not how she had imagined making this journey.
She thought of Seraphine meowing above her as she scaled the side of the palace.
Hara told herself that it was too dangerous to try and make the climb with Seraphine perched on her shoulders, but that was not entirely the truth.
She wanted there to be a lifeline.
She couldn’t bring herself to destroy the chance that Gideon would find her.
Hara closed her eyes and wrapped herself tighter. Gideon. There were many things she felt towards him, but anger was foremost. She blamed him for getting caught, and she blamed him for the hateful role he had played in dividing and perpetrating a war.
Over time he’d won her over with his charm, and she had even trusted him with her deepest secrets. It was easy to forget the terrible things he had done when he was with her, but she had been foolish to forget who he really was. With a monster such as Commander Falk as his father, she was nothing short of an idiot to develop feelings for him. She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to follow her at all. It would be a relief if she never saw him again.
She was lying to herself.
A shushing sound reached her ears, and Hara peered around the corner to see that rain had begun to fall in earnest. Hara settled back into the pocket of her cave. All the better. The rain would disperse any scent or tracks she had left. Then Hara became aware of a different sound. It was like a shuffling across the spruce needles, and she opened her eyes. After several moments she could not see anything, and so she closed them again.
“So, you made it out of the lion’s den.”
Her eyes flew open, and before her stood the otter. Its fur was sleek and wet from the rain, but it held the same intelligence in its beady eyes that she remembered.
“Yes,”
she murmured, unsure if she wanted the company of this strange creature.
“Where are you going?” he said.
Despite his previous assurances that he was her friend, she did not trust him. He was clearly a seasoned sorcerer, much older than herself. There was something about the way he spoke that made Hara picture an older gentleman. A sudden thought occurred to her, and instead of answering his question she posed one of her own.
“Are you the missing prince?”
He watched her silently, and Hara knew beyond a doubt that he was.
“Seith,”
she said, disgust making its way into her tone.
The otter watched her for a minute more, and then he bent double, curling in on himself. In a moment a tall, rangy man was crouched in the cave with her. He straightened, his robes shabby and careworn and his dark hair unkempt. He looked up at her with murky hazel eyes. Her eyes. It was as she had suspected from the moment she read the words in Falk’s journal.
“Father,”
she said softly.
“Angharad,”
he said, making no movement towards her.
“You look exactly like her.”
Rage burbled up from a deep place in her soul.
“How could you?”
“It was long ago, I was a different man—”
“How dare you speak to me of her? After everything you did?”
she said, her voice raw.
“You destroyed it all and you drove her nearly mad.”
“I told her to run. I warned her about what was coming so she would have time to take you and get away,”
he said desperately.
“You are despicable. Saving your lover and child while leading your family to their deaths.”
“I cannot undo the past. I have come close to madness myself all these years, alone and on the run. You cannot imagine the regret I feel.”
“Regret for yourself!”
she almost shouted, but she quickly controlled herself.
“Regret that you were not crowned. Now, every magical person in Montag must live as you do, or else be forced into servitude for the Empirator.”
“I could not have known it would be this way,”
he said, and Hara could not stop herself from letting out a furious burst of laughter.
“You saw to that when you erased Mother’s visions. If you had only looked closer, you would have seen your fate.”
There was a pause as Hara tried to control her breathing, and then he said softly.
“I want to offer my help, whatever it is that you are going to do. Please. Let me make amends to you.”
“How do you know I am going to do anything?” she said.
“Because you are going north, not south,” he said.
She closed her mouth and gave him a hard glare. She would sooner go back to the palace than accept his help.
“Are you going to the oubliette?”
he said, still in that soft voice.
It took a moment for Hara to understand what he meant.
“You know of the place on Herebore?”
He nodded.
“I’ve watched them bring witches there for years. None ever escape.”
“Your fault,”
she said.
“All of this is your fault.”
Seith hung his head.
“All the same. I wish to help you. Are you going to go and find her in there? You would never escape, Angharad. It is impossible.”
“Get out,”
she spat.
“Leave me.”
“Angharad—”
“GET OUT!”
she screamed.
He flinched slightly, his eyes full of pain. The small amount of satisfaction it gave her did nothing to dampen her rage. Slowly, he gained his feet, crouching in the limited space.
“I will leave you,”
he said.
“But I hope you can forgive me someday, Angharad. She would want that.”
Hara spat at his words. He left the cave, stepping out into the pouring rain. She crawled to the entrance to make sure he had left, and she could just see a small sleek body diving into the swollen stream.
Gideon
Why did Hara’s blasted familiar have to be a black-and-white cat?
He would have had a hard enough time seeing it as they moved through the black forest, but the sheetlike rain blowing into his face made it nearly impossible.
The white paws that flashed in the darkness ahead were the only clues that Gideon was not about to tumble face first down a rocky crag.
He should have been thankful for the cover of darkness and the storm.
If anyone was tracking them, they would have to fight through it as well.
They followed a roaring stream.
Gideon had to watch his footing to ensure he did not slip onto the muddy bank and get swept away.
They seemed to walk for hours, and Gideon wondered how in the hell Hara managed to come this far.
She only had perhaps an hour’s head start before him.
The one thing that brightened his considerably damp mood was that anyone who followed them would be led in the wrong direction.
Before he left the palace, he had taken one of Hara’s dresses and attached it to the back of an autocar before he watched it drive off.
Anyone who checked his credit key would see that his last destination was set to the Mycan border.
By the time his parents realized he was missing as well, they would direct their search to the west.
Hopefully, that would buy them a day’s head start.
The cat, which had been keeping a brisk pace, suddenly took off into a sprint.
Lightning flashed, and a moment later, an ear-splitting crack of thunder shook the ground.
In the flash of light, he saw what the cat had sprinted towards.
A massive rock fall loomed out of the darkness, and white paws were disappearing between the boulders.
He quickened his pace and found the dark space in the rock where the cat had slipped.
As he stooped to enter, he saw a faint orange glow from within, and when he turned the corner around a sharp slab of rock, he found Hara wrapped in a blanket and cooing over her drenched pet.
“Seraphine, oh, my sweet darling,”
she said, using the dry edge of the blanket to wipe at the cat’s face. It sneezed and shook its wet fur.
“Of course you would care for that cat before you said hello to me,”
he said, but he couldn’t help grinning. He was so relieved to find her safe.
Her stony glare quickly gutted his high spirits.
“It’s no thanks to you that I was caught and had to escape,”
she said.
“Your plan failed, and your father was expecting me.”
He had already chastised himself for the failure of the plan, but he hadn’t expected to hear it from her so bluntly. Defensiveness rose to shield the sore spot she had jabbed, but he tamped it down and took a measured breath.
“I’m sorry, Hara. It was a stupid idea. I could have found a way to ask him without bringing suspicion onto you.”
“He already knows who I am, who my mother is,”
she said, turning away.
“I think he has from the moment he saw me. Apparently, we look alike.”
“Oh,”
he said, confused at her lingering anger. It felt as though he were her enemy, which he did not like at all. Had he not proven his loyalty to her by now? Perhaps she still needed to be convinced.
“He also knows that I am helping you. He threatened my life if he saw that we were conspiring together to reveal his secrets to the leaders of Norwen and Lenwen.”
“Secrets like sowing strife and creating discord between the realms?”
she said scathingly, and then Gideon understood.
“You read some of my reports.”
“I did. They reminded me of who you really are. You’re your father’s dog.”
Her anger was catching. Gideon felt a flare of it lick at his insides.
“Without me being his dog in Norwen, you’d never have left that shit-stinking village to learn about the fate of your mother. You needed me to convince you, if you recall.”
“Don’t you hold that over me. It’s thanks to your father that we were separated to begin with.”
She had risen on her knees and leaned forward so that she could shove against his chest with one hand. The cat darted away, disappearing into the shadows.
“And I’m trying to help you!”
he almost shouted, leaning in closer, daring her to shove him again.
“A fine job you’ve done. Now we’re both on the run and your father is making death threats to you for helping me.”
“If you had just kept your head down and not meddled in alchemy, he wouldn’t have nearly as much interest in you. But you somehow found a way to reveal that you make gold,”
he said, throwing up his hands.
“There aren’t enough well-laid plans or influence in the world to protect you from yourself. You’re I, careless—”
Hara let out a short huff of laughter and shoved him again. This time, he caught her hands.
“Go on,”
she said harshly.
“What else?”
“I’m not doing this.”
She made an incensed sound that resembled a scoff.
“Why? Have you grown a conscience?”
Her angry mouth was so close to his, and he could not go on telling her all of her faults because he loved them just as much as he loved her kindness, her quiet confidence, and her need to do the right thing.
He leaned down and kissed her, hard, an angry kiss.
She struggled, and one of her hands broke free.
She clawed at his face, but he gripped hers back, taking hold of her jaw and opening her mouth to him.
Then he felt her tongue against his, and she clutched the front of his wet shirt.
She let out a soft whimper before her hands snaked around to grip his hair, holding him close and deepening the kiss.
Her back arched, making her breasts plump against his chest.
He was no longer shivering from the rain as she tore at his wet clothes, his rain cloak falling to the ground and his shirt pulled over his head.
She wore a shapeless nightdress that bunched easily in his hands, and they shuffled and staggered until he had her backed against the stone wall.
He yanked the shift off of her shoulder, seams straining until they tore under his fevered grip, and he clasped his mouth over her peaked breast.
Her flesh was so warm and silky under his tongue, filling his mouth, and he licked and suckled at her until her breaths were short, helpless pants.
There was barely enough room to stand, but he lifted her up by the legs and sat her on the ledge next to her lamp, knocking it over in the process.
He had to bend his neck to stand upright, but his discomfort was forgotten as she unbuttoned his trousers and released his aching cock.
He roughly pulled her skirt aside, and when he plunged into her, she made a desperate cry into his neck.
He made a short sound in answer, a fierce surge of desire rearing up as he felt how irresistibly hot and wet she was.
If he lived a hundred years, he would never tire of the way his hips sank into her soft thighs, the way every part of her seemed to give way to him in welcome.
She wrapped around him tightly as he stretched her with each push.
He freed one hand from her luscious thighs to cradle her still-covered breast, her nipple stiff under the thick fabric.
He rubbed over it with his thumb and he felt her squeeze his cock in response.
He had never craved anyone this fiercely.
“I need you, Hara,”
he panted.
“I’ll spend every day proving to you that I’m better, that I’m good enough for you.”
“You’re an idiot. Stop talking,”
she said breathily, and his cock grew impossibly harder.
“Fuck,”
he groaned, catching her lips again.
Her scolding would be the death of him.
He began rocking her, almost bouncing her, up and down against the wall.
His breaths were harsh and ragged, and he muffled his deep moans by biting the soft skin between her neck and shoulder.
Hara had grown so wet that he was able to slide deeply inside with every movement.
She gripped him hard with her inner muscles, and he let out a rough gasp against her skin.
“Oh hell, you wicked girl.”
He hoisted her up further, making his hold more secure on her thighs.
“Gideon, I want . . .”
she started, gripping his shoulders.
Anything, he would give her anything.
“You want?”
“I want you to take me from behind,”
she managed, and the vision of Hara bending over for him almost caused him to lose control.
He set her back on her feet, and she arranged herself on her elbows and knees, putting herself on glorious display.
All for him.
The lamp on the ground showed every round curve, every blushed mark where his fingers had gripped, and for the first time, he noticed she was wearing stockings.
He groaned. It was his fantasy come true.
Gideon stared at her, hardly believing that someone so perfect would let him have her.
He positioned himself behind her, but before he slid inside, he ran his fingertips along her thighs and slowly dipped them under the edges of her stockings.
He heard her breath catch, and he gripped the soft flesh under his hands, massaging her thighs before pulling them farther apart.
She had the most gorgeous cunny he had ever laid eyes on.
Her lips were so shiny and enticing that he bent down to kiss her there without thinking.
She gave a soft cry, and he gripped her by the cuffs of her stockings, keeping her spread and steady for his mouth.
She was so wonderfully wet and soft against his tongue, filling his mouth and his nose and his hands until all he could sense was Hara.
He licked at her slowly, gently, savoring her for as long as she would let him before she grew impatient.
When he felt her knees begin to shake, he finally sucked on the sweet spot she liked best, and she would have collapsed if he hadn’t had a firm hold on her stockings.
When her moans diminished, he gave one last kiss to her inner thigh, then fitted his cock to push through her swollen lips.
She raised her hips higher, sinking back to take him in, and he moved his hands to grab hold of her hips.
“Sorry, darling,”
he said as he began to thrust.
“I couldn’t resist seeing you spread like that and not having a taste.”
“Gideon,”
she moaned, rocking back to meet him.
She squeezed him again, and soon he no longer cared about finesse and patience.
He plunged harder, all sense of grace or endurance leaving his mind as his body took what it wanted from her.
He chased the little sounds she made, grasping and pounding, almost lifting her knees from the ground with each stroke.
Fiery pleasure danced and tingled and spread with each hard movement.
The only thing in his mind was the heady scent and taste of her lingering on his lips and the heat of her on his cock.
Then he slowed into deep, gentled movements, his back stiffening with pleasure as he arched into her, filling her, filling her.
She took him deeply, tightening around him in rhythmic squeezes.
Finally, he pulled out and slumped over her back, and they collapsed slowly on the ground together.
They said nothing, just listened to the rumbling thunder and the whoosh of the rain outside, watching the shadows the lamplight made.
Gideon found a blanket trapped under them, and he gently pulled it so that they were bundled up together underneath.
“Hara,”
he whispered, hoping she would be able to hear him over the storm. She opened her eyes, and he was glad to see the anger had gone, however much he deserved it.
But it had been real and consuming, and he could not brush it aside. He drew a deep breath.
“I’m sorry.”
Her brows furrowed.
“For what?”
He almost laughed aloud.
For being indirectly responsible for years of bloodshed.
For perpetuating corruption with lawmen.
For doing nothing in the face of the countless injustices he had witnessed in the mines and factories.
For benefitting from them. For abducting her friend. For treating her with such disrespect.
“Ever since we first met, I knew I would hurt you eventually,”
he murmured, almost hoping she wouldn’t hear him over the patters of rain and wind.
“You angered me, and you made mistakes, but you didn’t hurt me, Gideon. Why would you think that?”
He turned onto his back and exhaled, but the discomfort wouldn’t leave his chest. Atonement didn’t give the relief he’d been hoping for.
“Because I hurt people. It’s what I’m good at. Whether by my hand or on my father’s behalf,”
A sharp ache grew in his throat, making it difficult to speak. His voice cracked slightly as he asked.
“Do you think me evil?”
After a pause that seemed to last an eternity, he felt her as she slowly shook her head.
“Maybe once, you were. Or at least, you worked toward evil aims. But you are different now.”
He swallowed against the knife in his throat.
“That is your doing, you know.”
“What do you mean?”
He reached for her hand and intertwined their fingers.
“Under your touch, I transformed,”
he said.
“Your alchemy is multifaceted.”
He turned to her in time to see the slight quiver of her lip as she smiled. She was so beautiful, it made him hurt. He gently brushed a finger over her cheek and across her lips.
“I love you, Hara,”
he whispered.
Warmth made her eyes shine brightly, and then he saw that tears were gathering in the corners. As they slipped free, she whispered.
“I love you, too.”