Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A rwyn wouldn’t take his eyes off me. Especially when my tongue traced my torn lip, lapping up the blood he had so kindly spilled. But he wasn’t without a wound either. Arwyn’s left eye had swollen shut, courtesy of my fist. I’d no doubt at least one of his ribs was fractured, maybe two if I’d gotten lucky.
Beside the tear in my lip, my only other affliction was exhaustion. We had been sparring for what felt like hours, but which must have been five minutes. No fight lasted this long, not when every second was utilised. And what was evident was we’d keep going until one of us tapped out.
‘You just let me know when you’ve had enough,’ Arwyn said after spitting blood onto the flagstones at his feet.
I cracked my neck, feeling the ache in almost every muscle. ‘Why? Are you getting tired?’
Arwyn bounced from foot to foot. ‘Not at all. Just worried about you, that’s it.’
It wasn’t meant to be taken as a compliment, but a way of degrading my skill. I pretended it was the first, though, using it as yet another bit of sarcasm.
‘How much of your mind do I occupy?’ I asked.
‘Enough.’ Arwyn’s reply was meant to be short. And it had the impact he was hoping for.
I was almost sure that I heard Romy giggle—although I hadn’t had a second to look at her since Arwyn and I had begun fighting. Every bit of my of focus was on him and guessing his next move, then predicting the moves that would follow after. Not even the growing crowd around the courtyard interested me. There were too many distractions, but for the first time none of them outweighed the person before me.
Arwyn captured my entire mind.
‘Don’t worry, Arwyn.’ I bent my knees, readying myself to jump back into the fray. ‘It will be over soon.’
A flash of concern passed over his bright eyes before they narrowed in concentration. Then I attacked. It took me three steps to reach him. I flashed my fists towards his face, but he dodged. Although that was what I was expecting. I was a spider, weaving a web around him, just for Arwyn to get himself tangled up in pre-empting my next attack.
Spoiler alert, he didn’t succeed.
It so easy fighting him, like this dance was familiar to me, his moves predictable. Too focused on what my fists were doing, Arwyn didn’t account for hard smash of my foot into his shin. He doubled over just as I drove my forehead into his already shattered nose.
The howl he expelled rivalled that of a wolf ensnared in a trap, desperate and pleading. It warmed me all the way through.
‘I think we’re done here,’ I said, breathless and high on adrenaline.
I steadied my breathing as much as I could, whilst jolting out the way of Arwyn’s blind reach towards me. His fingers grasped my shirt but I managed to get free. There was no doubt Arwyn was good at fighting.—whatever training he had outweighed mine. But the one thing about his fighting style was he didn’t rely on his Gift. In fact, since sparring with me, he hadn’t used it.
Until now.
I stepped backwards, directly into the wall of conjured cobalt flame that sprung from thin air. Before scalding myself, I fell forwards, directly into Arwyn’s waiting grasp.
He spun me around so quickly that the word blurred. Then he stopped when my back was pressed to his chest, one strong arm anchored around my front, keeping me in place. I felt every dramatic inhale and exhale, even his heart thundering through him, the beat working itself into my back until I felt him echo within the confines of my body.
I tried to slip free, but Arwyn’s spare hand was held before my face. Far enough away that the leaking flames didn’t touch me, but close enough that with one wrong move, I’d find my skin melting off.
‘You’re right,’ Arwyn growled, his mouth close to my ear. I was glad I still wore my t-shirt, otherwise he would’ve watched my skin ripple in gooseflesh. However, Arwyn definitely noticed how my body stiffened. ‘We are done.’
‘Not quite,’ I forced out as I wrapped my Gift around us both and thrust backwards. Without the use of my hands, my focus was not as specific. It was a risk, but one that worked. Our bodies were knocked backwards, the force so great it hurt me too. But it was Arwyn’s bare back that slammed into the stone wall of the courtyard.
His hold on me relaxed enough for me to pull free. This time, Arwyn didn’t have the energy to reach for me again. Gone were his strange flames as he slumped onto the ground, legs extended, and head bent down like some forgotten doll.
The courtyard was taut with silence. No one spoke, waiting for signs of life most likely. Which came a moment later as Arwyn lifted his eyes to me, freezing me in place. The hate was palpable. In fact, it was like looking into a stranger’s eyes.
They were darker, likely clouded by thoughts of the pain and suffering he wished to inflict on me. I waited for him to move, to even say something. But he just sat upon the floor, staring at me, lip twitching.
I couldn’t place the emotion that had me stepping closer to offer a hand. Was it guilt? Or fear that if I didn’t extend a white flag, Arwyn would use the next opportunity to kill me?
‘If it soothes your pride, you’ve lasted longer than most I go up against,’ I said, aware that a bruise likely blossomed on my back. Poor Romy would have her work cut out with healing me.
Arwyn’s gaze flicked between my hand and my face. I almost pulled back, but then he reached out and clasped his fingers around mine. The grip was iron clad. It made the bones in my hand scream. I didn’t dare to show it, steeling my expression, but one wrong move and I had no doubt my hand would shatter. Or burn, depending on if he conjured his fire again.
He used my leverage to stand. Arwyn didn’t speak until he was towering above me. He stumbled forward slightly, lip curling, and sucked a sharp breath in through his mouth. I could read the pain all over his face. It was etched into almost every line, freckle, and old scar. I felt his hand relax, so I tried to pull back. But then he clasped harder, drawing me sharply into him. I smelt the copper of blood mixed with the blend of sandalwood and sage that imbued his skin.
‘I’m not your enemy.’ His words were meant for me and me alone. They were a rasped whisper, his lips inches from my ear. So close, I felt the brush of them against my damp skin. ‘But someone amongst this little flock is.’
I side-eyed, almost breathless at how close his eyes were to mine. ‘Seems like an obvious observation since you helped last night with a few of them.’
He refused to release me. ‘Not them. You know who I’m speaking about.’
Frustrated at this man’s ability to dance around a subject, I tore myself free. I couldn’t manage it without the aid of a slight push of my Gift against his chest. ‘I think we’re done here.’
A slow clapping emanated around the courtyard. The melodic pace was off by a beat, as if the person clapping wanted me to look at them. And I did, finding Salem Tanner watching from the back of the crowd, his one good eye fixed on me.
‘Bravo,’ he called out. The crowd before him parted like water, as if surprised by the sudden appearance of the witch. Could they sense the danger leaking off him as I did?
Then again, what was a little danger if not something to enjoy?
Arwyn stiffened, falling back into silence. I didn’t know what drove me to do it, but I strode forwards away from my rival, faced Salem and the crowd, and mocked a bow. It was both awkward and dramatic, but I didn’t care. My goal was to provide a warning for those watching—one that reminded them not to fuck with me.
By the time I righted myself, Salem was gone. Yet his presence lingered. My mind went back to the letters, to the physical proof that Jonathan had been the one to make the mistake leading to Salem’s family’s death.
He deserved to know. I had to find him and tell him.
‘Hector.’ Arwyn stepped into my side. He kept his voice low, ensuring I was the only one to hear what was said next. ‘You need to be careful.’
‘No shit,’ I said, turning my back on my adoring fans until he was my entire focus. ‘So do you.’
‘I’m not talking about us.’
‘There is no us to talk about, so that would make sense.’
Before I stepped away, his hand snaked out and grabbed my arm. For someone covered in blood and riddled with pain, Arwyn certainly had the ability to bury it and act like everything was fine. That confirmed one thing—he wasn’t a stranger to pain. ‘There’s a wolf amongst our flock. And you know it.’
My breath caught in my throat, the very sky suddenly pressing down atop me. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
I did, but playing ignorant was important.
‘Tonight. Meet me at the boundary of the castle if you want to know more.’
With that, Arwyn left. Walking directly in through the crowd, directly towards where Salem had gone. I took a step to follow him, but my next words choked me as I saw his back. Arwyn’s skin was a mess of bloodied flesh. Grit and blood mixed together, left over from how I’d thrust him back into the wall.
I shouldn’t have felt the guilt that crept up, but I did. Immediately, I found Romy’s eyes. She would be able to fix him. But before I could even contemplate offering, Arwyn was gone.
Like a shadow, he disappeared within moments. All that was left to occupy me was his words.
There’s a wolf amongst our flock.
He knew. Arwyn knew about the Witch Hunter. How, I wasn’t sure. But I had no doubt what his words meant. And I had no choice but to find out.
‘How about we get out of here before someone else asks the victor for a fight, yes?’ Romy wrapped her arm around me, guiding me from the courtyard. Red leaves crunched beneath my boots, squashing them into bloodied piles. ‘I should be mad at you for getting yourself hurt, but I can’t get over the tension between you two.’
Somehow I didn’t think she was talking about the tension of the fight. I rolled my eyes.
I waited until the courtyard and its crowd were far behind us before I replied. ‘It would seem I have a date tonight.’
‘With him ?’
I nodded. ‘I think Arwyn knows about the Witch Hunter.’
‘Well fuck,’ Romy said, echoing my inner thoughts. ‘What time are we going?’
‘We? I don’t think that’s a good idea.’
Romy pouted. ‘As if I’m letting you out my sight.’
‘You don’t really have a choice.’
‘We always have a choice, Hector.’
Not when it comes to Arwyn , I thought, although I refused to voice that fact aloud. ‘And mine is to go. Alone. It could help us.’
‘Or, forgive me for being distrusting of the tall, sexy man who was just practically sucking your ear off, but he could be the Witch Hunter.’
I shook my head. ‘You saw his fire, he’s clearly a witch.’
‘So is Jonathan, and Father Tomin is still using him as his pawn.’
Touché . Romy had a point. Jonathan was not only a witch, but the acting Grand High. If he was in the Witch Hunters’ pocket, I couldn’t know for sure that Arwyn was free of similar crimes.
‘So you think I shouldn’t go?’ I asked, already knowing the answer.
‘ Of course you should go. I’m just saying you shouldn’t go alone . And we need a plan. We’ve both dealt with enough Witch Hunters to know their patterns, the way they think. Arwyn certainly fights like he’s been trained by a professional. I hardly think going to meet him alone is the best option.’
‘Would this be the moment I remind you that we’ve already spent time alone?’ I prodded her in the side. ‘Arwyn has had his chances to kill me. I agree with you, there could be a chance he’s a Witch Hunter. We should treat everyone in this castle as a potential suspect until they’re dealt with. But I’m not going to refuse to meet him.’
‘I could torture the truth out of him,’ Romy suggested with a grin, wiggling her fingers at me.
I pushed her hands down. ‘Perhaps we’ll keep that as our backup plan.’
‘You say it like you have another idea,’ Romy replied, as if she was reading my mind. I was probably wearing my thoughts on my face.
‘Not another idea, but our first,’ I said, cringing at the thought of the air-witch who’d cracked my mind open like an egg. ‘We find Jordan now, get him on side. Then, by tonight, we have the means to confirm Arwyn’s loyalties.’
‘I’m not sure I like where this is going.’
A shuffling of feet sounded beside us. At least I thought it was feet. All there was beside us was shadow. No one was there. I tried to convince myself that old houses made sounds as though the walls longed to join in the conversation, and that this was no different. But that didn’t stop me from bringing my voice down to a whisper. ‘We find Jordan and make sure he helps us get inside Arwyn’s mind.’
‘He doesn’t seem like the most controllable witch,’ Romy said, voicing my inner concern.
‘I’m not interested in control.’ It was my turn to wiggle my fingers. ‘Plus, all it takes is him to be made to touch Arwyn. He won’t be able to control himself once the connection is made. And I have no doubt that Jordan’s reaction will either confirm or deny the accusations.’
‘Twisted, but smart,’ Romy said, wringing her hands together. ‘I like it.’
‘You don’t survive years alone without being an expert at both of those things,’ I replied.
‘It helped you had your familiar,’ Romy said.
‘Thanks for the vote in confidence.’
She eyed me up and down, wincing as her gaze settled on my split lip. ‘Let’s get some food, water and as many supplies as we can carry to hoard up in our room. Then, I’ll see to your wounds. Wouldn’t want you going to the date later looking like that.’
‘I regret calling it a date,’ I said, threading my arm in with hers.
‘If anything, Arwyn acts as a good distraction. Not everything about the Witch Trials needs to be suffering and agony. At least some of us can have some fun.’
The way Romy referred to Arwyn as a distraction wasn’t exactly wrong , which was why I didn’t say otherwise. But he wasn’t enough of one to eliminate the thought that haunted me. The idea of seeing Jordan again made my insides turn. What I didn’t add to Romy was that if Jordan caused any issues, I would be the one to see he was out of the Witch Trials—permanently. There was no knowing what he’d gleaned from my thoughts. I didn’t like the idea of someone running around with access to my secrets. Then again, my memories from last night where hazy, but I was confident he’d said something.
‘I see… missing spaces. A block. His memories have been…’
What had he meant by that? I felt bad keeping it from Romy, but until I knew what Jordan meant, I wasn’t prepared to share. But one fact was clear.
If Jordan helped me, I would show him mercy.
If he didn’t, then his time in the Witch Trials would come to an abrupt end.