76. Maren
76
Maren
“ I t’s bad luck to loose the first arrow,” Leal said, motioning with his hands across the ravine. “That’s why armies stand around staring at each other so long.”
Aren shook his head, eyeing Leal with a look that proved a testament to his cool temperament. “That’s not true and you know it.”
“Either that or they were just waiting for me before they got started.” Leal grinned at Aitne, who quickly glanced down to a frosted twig.
“Probably hoping you’d fall into a hole on your way here,” Aren said, conjuring a long sigh.
“You ever look at Aren very long, Lady Princess?” Leal asked me.
I shrugged my shoulder, curious where he was headed with the question. “Not really?”
“Ouch,” Aren muttered. Behind him, Dimas snickered.
Leal crossed his arms, leaning forward in his saddle. “Ever noticed how he perpetually looks as though he’s trying to squeeze out a fart without making any noise?”
When you trigger the avalanche, feel free to send it toward him first, Kye murmured into my head. I pursed my lips against a smile as Aren hurled an apple core at Leal.
“You’re the only ignorant little weasel here who’s willing to make jokes at death’s door, you apathetic bastard,” Aren said.
Leal deflected the weaponized fruit, sending it into the snow. “Don’t they mean the same thing?”
“What?”
“Ignorance and apathy?”
“What in Perpetuum’s name gives you that idea?”
Leal shrugged. “Don’t know and don’t care.”
Not far enough to keep from overhearing, I felt Nori roll her eyes.
“Stop fucking around, Leal, and pay attention,” Kye snapped. “We’re almost to the ridge where we want Rivea to be. Leihani’s group is going to split and nestle in tight up there, there, and there. We want Rivea to think we’re going around the long way to flank them from behind so that they’ll meet us in the middle. If they’re smart, they’ll have seen us break from the ranks and head this way, and they’ll send scouts to see what we’re up to. We have to kill the scouts to provide cover for Nori and the others on their way up. Calder is on our heels making it look as though we’re moving position. Stop fucking around and you can be back to eating peanuts tonight.”
“Where do you want us?” Dimas asked. Behind him, Leal and Aren covertly aimed their middle fingers at each other.
Kye glared across the mountain. “Over the canyon on their side. Leave your horses here and hide in the trees. Take out anyone you find.”
With a quiet grunt, Dimas dismounted, sweeping through the ash wood on foot like a shadow. Aren and Leal followed, Fox trotting behind them, and Kye watched them vanish through snow and branch, trepidation in his eyes.
Where are you going to be? I asked him.
Up the mountain with you. It’s a long hike, we should get moving. And probably should leave Kolibri here.
I coasted out of my own saddle, unbuckling Kolibri’s bridle to offer her mouth some relief and replacing it with her lead. She tossed her head at the sight of it, knowing it meant I planned to leave her for a while. “I’ll be back,” I said, smoothing the velvet fur of her cheek. “Don’t let anyone come near you. And if they do, bite them.”
She blew a raspberry.
In the branches of the nearest tree, a raven landed, aiming a beady eye at me. I paused, the hairs at the back of my neck raising.
Might be a flower, might be a flame.
Would Thaan trigger my speculae when not in his usual form? He'd never done so when he'd posed as Cain, but he'd always worn spectacles.
The raven stared, unmoving. My teeth clenched. I turned away, ignoring it.
Selena and I took the lead up the mountainside. Wind howled in my ears, almost too loud for me to stand. We didn’t have a lot of time to play it safe, but we couldn’t afford mistakes either, and though my experience in handling snow remained minimal, it was still more than any of the other Naiads, most of whom had never before left Leihaniian waters.
Where did everyone find their boots? I asked Nori. She’d stayed behind with Kye, ensuring the Naiads all made their way up safely. They look like sailor’s boots.
They are, she said back. We have a graveyard of sailor’s things. Boots, clothes, weapons, ships.
I sidestepped around a hidden patch of ice I sensed under the drift, knowing it would take more time than I could spare to melt it. No one here will attack any of these men.
Nori tsked in my head. No, My Queen. Not here.
Sunlight peered through the clouds above, and a drop of sweat slithered from my hairline and into my brow. The heavy furs and leather Kye had strapped to me weighed me down, slowing the speed of my scale, and I had half a mind to strip them off.
Thank you for being here, Kye said. Halfway up, I turned to look back at him and realized he hadn’t spoken to me. He stood beside Nori, watching our ascent with one long leg propped onto a fallen log, arms crossed, the hilt of his sword just visible over his shoulder.
Nori shifted slightly away from him, raising her chin, mouth moving as she answered, We did not come for you.
I know. But I’m grateful either way.
Turning back around, I focused on melting just enough to allow the Naiads passage up the slope without dissolving so much that our trail took shape under the scrutiny of distant eyes. But I listened intently in my head, the wind howling outside my thoughts, unsure if either of them realized that through the bond I shared with them both, I could hear their conversation.
I raised her on the island, Nori said. She’s as good as my child. I would never have allowed her to come endanger herself without our protection. Especially not for you.
Kye exhaled. We have something in common, then. I didn’t want her here either.
And yet, here she is. Driven away from her home and role as queen by some young, feckless man.
I stopped.
Kye stiffened in my mind, and I felt his jaw tense and his muscles stretch taught, though when I stole a glance back at them, he simply stood watching us climb, the picture of cool arrogance.
Do you know what fate you’ve sealed her to, human?
I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.
A common Naiad has a lifespan similar to that of a human. We age slowly, so the vigor of youth never quite leaves our bodies, but around eighty years, our time is up. But your cordae is not a common Naiad, is she?
Kye didn’t respond. I felt him lean a hip to one side, adjusting his weight, then replant his opposite foot on the log. Thoughts zipped through his mind too quickly for me to catch.
She is not, Nori answered her own question, her voice a slow and piercing sting. She is a Naiad queen, and her life will extend hundreds of years beyond your own. Inevitably, human, you will abandon her to a life without you. And as a Naiad, she will never take a second mate. It is we, through which she will find strength. We, who are her colony, her Domus, her family. So, you may seethe into the distance as I stand here reminding you that you are worthless—
Nori , I snapped, the warning in my mental voice igniting the air around me.
—But the truth remains that you are a mortal who took the one and only bond of a deity you do not understand and, with that one selfish act, cursed the rest of her days. Your life will run its course, while hers will continue on. And do not think she has not thought of it every day since she realized who she is. And what you are.
Nori, that’s enough, I snarled, suddenly irritated and hot enough to yank my furs off and throw them away.
Her mouth snapped shut. She stalked away from him, trailing the last of the Naiads, now at the foot of the ascent.
My fingers curled into tight fists, my mouth twisted to the side. A vein throbbed in my forehead. I ripped off the stifling armor Kye had strapped to me, the silk pants too, careless about the fact that my feet were bare in the snow. Anger simmered within me, seeking the reaches of my body as it spread and grew into a low boil, and I sent Nori a glower laced with smoke and brimstone, deciding that maybe it would be her I’d imagine at the base of the mountain when the Riveans fell into our trap.
He deserves to know, Nori spoke, softer with me than she’d been with Kye.
Yes, he does. I rolled the thoughts out to her, each one bursting with icy flames . But it was not your place to tell him.
She grew silent, weighing the rage in my words. I’m sorry, My Queen.
I’d all but deserted her. She reached for me with words of consolation that hit the walls of my mind. I blocked her out, each one growing a bit louder, a bit more desperate. My attention had shifted, scaling down to the man standing completely alone in the snow.
Kye, I said, as gentle as a quiet rap of knuckles in the middle of the night.
But he didn’t answer. Our eyes met, and he stared up at me, the doors of his mind shut tight. A heavy weight sunk into my chest, guilt and regret that I knew would linger long after these next few hours passed. As though something fragile broke within our souls. And even if I tried to forge it together, nothing I could say would seal the crack that remained.
The wind gorged itself on all the nearby sound, but silence stood between us, words that died before they could bloom, heavy and unspoken.
And then he turned away.
First, the sharp rotation of his head. As though he’d heard a branch snap behind him.
Then his body followed.
And time held its breath as Kye reached for his sword, his bones familiar with the urge to fly, wind snaking through the black fur across his shoulders.
He dropped into a crouch as a blade swerved clean over his head.
The sword of a man wearing crimson armor.
And a second Rivean came around Kye’s side, the soldier’s arm arcing as steel narrowly missed Kye’s throat. Kye rolled to the left, dodging out of the man’s path. Missing his swipe.
A third slammed into him, sparks flying as their steel clashed, but Kye parried quickly enough that he missed that one, too.
But the fourth.
The fourth man didn’t miss.