CHAPTER FORTY-THREE #2
Anyone but Linus. I doubt I could forgive that degree of betrayal. Nor would I be inclined to admit he had a single redeemable bone in his body, even if—
With practiced ease, I bid the thought away. I had promised myself there would be no more dwelling on the past; it was the future that required my attention.
“All right then,” Vayen said, expression steeled. She turned from Rummy, pressing forward on the forgotten bit of road the wood was intent on reclaiming.
I was just about to follow after her when Rummy’s muzzle nudged my shoulder.
I startled briefly, not having noticed when he’d turned to face me.
With a small smile, I gazed up at the creature, wondering how on Morwyn we’d gotten here.
Only days ago I’d been so frightened of him I was willing to asphyxiate in his gases just to avoid climbing atop his back, and now there he was, hovering over me in his enormity, all but demanding a goodbye.
I wasn’t entirely used to his size—not sure that I ever would be. I also couldn’t dispel the vivid imagery of him trampling that man as though he were quite versed in that deathly choreography. But staring up at him, I knew we had forged our own sort of understanding.
“Thank you,” I said, running my hand over his muzzle. “And have a safe journey home.”
The rational part of my mind knew that he couldn’t understand me, but the way he dipped his head knowingly and snuffled my palm before bounding away in a fury of hoofbeats had me questioning myself.
“This way,” Vayen called, pulling me from my contemplation.
“Right then.”
With a deep, preparatory inhale, I turned on my heel and began following after her.
One foot in front of the other, I reminded myself.
Despite acknowledging my affection for Rummy, and knowing in my heart I would miss his companionship, it felt good to be walking.
I focused on those sensations—the dirt beneath my bucket boots, the gentle swipe of shrubbery as we made our way past, and the comparatively chillier atmosphere now that I was neither atop Rummy nor pressed up against Vayen.
I wanted to keep my mind there, so that it might not wander to the fog that awaited me, but my will alone could not withstand the trepidation looming over me.
Stars above, I really, really didn’t want to do this.
But Grenythwood Village would never truly be my home if I didn’t.
In Vayen’s owns words, if there was even the slightest chance that I might be a Goddess Vessel, could I live with myself when Milo’s blood spilled in the blood pit?
Or when the Moonkin continued to live in fear, unable to protect themselves against those who would do them harm?
And if the Moonlight Trials were to render my life forfeit, as I suspected they would, then none of this would matter anymore, would it?
I wouldn’t be a fugitive, running from two of the most powerful kingdoms in Morwyn.
I wouldn’t have a demented prince fighting tooth and nail to claim my body as his own.
Depths, I wouldn’t even have to shield my thoughts from all that had happened to me.
Why, oh why, did that have to sound… peaceful?
If only I could find that same acceptance with the Threshold.
“I believe I’ve lost all sense of rationality,” I said suddenly, desperately needing to leave the confines of my mind.
“I’m inclined to agree with you,” Vayen quipped. When I didn’t laugh, she quickly added, “Only joking. What makes you say that?”
I sidestepped a low-hanging branch, fingertips grazing the rough edges of the ironbark as we pressed forward.
“Whick made it perfectly clear that the Moonlight Trials were all but a death snare if I’m not the Vessel, and although your confidence remains strong, mine does not.
So why am I more afraid of crossing than I am of reaching Castle Sor? ”
Vayen’s tone was almost too even as she spoke, though there was no detectable emotion rearranging her features. “It seems the Threshold has featured in your nightmares since you were a child. I can’t imagine your first crossing helped matters much.”
“That’s where I’d like to place the blame,” I said, sighing deeply. Unfortunately, the comforting, damp scents of the chilly forest were no match for the nerves multiplying in my stomach. “But now that I’m preparing to cross again, I don’t think that’s the full truth of it.”
“Oh?” Vayen hopped easily over a shallow stream that was more mud than water, extending her hand to assist me.
Why did she have to be so perfectly warm?
“Did you ever meet Vicar Umfrey?”
She continued forward with a nod, her shoulder brushing mine. “I did. We were all quite impressed, and not just with his sacrifice—he was one of the few who made the journey without getting lost.”
“Mm, I imagine he had some help in that regard,” I mused. “The castle is relatively self-sufficient, so I’d never met him or his family before. Not until he returned from Grenythwood.”
Vayen paused by a large rock, its underbelly slick with moss. “He was the crosser you saw.”
“Indeed. I’d been naughty, sneaking beyond the wall.
See, my father allowed me to train as a Sentinel, but only the boring parts—tidying the depot, polishing the gear, patrolling the wall; he didn’t want me anywhere near combat training.
At the time, I’d assumed it was because I’m his only daughter, and perhaps he afforded me an additional protective instinct that was absent where my brother was concerned, but now I think it was about keeping me the weak, incapable girl he claimed I was.
Whatever the reason, his insistence emboldened me, and I accepted my Captain’s terms: train for combat beyond the wall, or not at all. ”
Vayen’s lip edged into a smirk, resurfacing that left cheek dimple I couldn’t help but glance at.
“Combat training, eh? You any good?”
“Oh, absolutely rotten.” I stifled my laughter. “I mean, truly, it’s pathetic. But it felt good to do something I wasn’t supposed to be doing. Rather a common thing to feel, isn’t it?”
“Perhaps. Though I find it endearing all the same.”
She found me endearing? I avoided her gaze entirely as I fought to retrieve the thread of my story.
“I… I’d questioned my own sanity then, too.
If I’d been caught out in those woods…” I trailed off as the scars on my back hummed in remembrance, that ever-present itch growing the longer I acknowledged it.
Clearing my throat, I dropped my attention to the forest floor when Vayen turned to assess me.
“Simply put, my father is not a man you disobey. Until recently, I barely allowed myself to harbor a resentful thought towards him. He always seems to know when a person’s heart doesn’t align with their words.
It’s uncanny, and… well, even my mind didn’t feel safe in his presence. ”
“You’re either very brave or very stupid for training beyond the wall, then.” The quirk of Vayen’s lip was playful, but she was right.
“Perhaps an unfortunate combination of both.” When she held back the sprawling, dark purple leaf of a fern, I stepped forward with a passing, “Thank you,” before letting her take the lead again.
“So you were training in the forest,” Vayen prompted.
“Yes. I had arrived early in the hopes that I might ambush my Captain.” Her eyebrow lifted, and I couldn’t help the half-smile I spoke through.
“It was a little game we played, one that I lost every time. I’m sure I was setting myself up for another loss when I saw the two Sentinels I told you about.
They were speaking quite loudly about the crosser they sought.
Not very stealth-inclined, it would seem. ”
Vayen huffed a laugh, though her smile never met her eyes.
“Devoid of all reason, I decided to follow them. I wanted to see something real, something that wasn’t fashioned in a book or a painting or the damnable repetitions the castle staff rehearsed to quell my curiosities.
For once, I wanted the truth, and there it was, traipsing through the woods.
Like a gift from the stars themselves. I was going to see the Threshold, and no one—not the Council, not my Father—could ever take that from me. ”
“Were you scared?”
“Oh, I was petrified. I only had a tapestry in the castle archives to fuel my nightmares, but now I was about to confirm its existence for myself. What if it was even more horrifying than I’d thought?”
Twigs snapped beneath our feet as we walked, and dead leaves sank deeper into the mud. The chorus of our traversal, both in steps and words, echoed within the silence of the wood. I knew in my bones that it wouldn’t be long until I met the Threshold for the third—and potentially last—time.
“Well, was it?”
“No,” I admitted. But then my breath caught in my throat, Vicar’s empty expression flashing in my mind.
“The fog itself was… mystifying, of course. I might even go so far as to say enchanting. But I see now it wasn’t the Threshold itself that’s been plaguing me ever since; it’s Vicar.
His faraway focus, the look in his eyes.
He couldn’t recall his own name. He had to cross with a note hidden away, so that the medicine might find his family despite his lack of awareness.
The empty way he gazed at the world around him, a husk of a man.
I think death would be easier… for everyone involved. ”
Vayen hummed under her breath, pausing now to stare up at the sky. “Becoming a Vacant,” she said softly. “Your greatest fear.”