Chapter 41
Chapter forty-one
Bitterridge Keep
We rode single file, with Elena and me up front on the large brown-and-black horse and Darion on the white one with black spots.
Elena had named our horse Buttercup, and Darion’s she called Snowflake.
We kept the pace at a fast trot. It was better to save the horses’ energy in case we needed them to run on short notice.
The path was sometimes clear and wide and at other times no more than an indentation in the grass.
It meandered up and down small hills, through grasslands and patches of trees.
The shadows were long by the time we saw Bitterridge Keep, its stone tower rising above the surrounding trees.
As Jask had mentioned, it was long abandoned, likely a relic of the age when Velmorra’s north and south regions were two separate kingdoms that were often at war with each other.
Despite that, it was in surprisingly good shape, owing to its solid stone construction.
Only a few rotted wooden beams and the occasional missing stone indicated that it was a ruin.
We hitched our horses in a small room on the lower level with a fireplace and a few patches of straw that must have served as beds for the occasional traveler. After we tended to the horses, whom Elena had grown quite fond of, we set off to explore the keep.
A staircase rose five stories along the inside walls of the main tower, ending at a lookout with far-reaching views of the surrounding landscape.
Rolling tree-covered hills stretched out in all directions.
The low sun just peeked over the hills to the west. The faint line of the north-south road made its way through the forests far to the east. We had traveled far enough that the Jagged Coast was no longer visible to the south.
“I hope Jask made it to town and didn’t get stopped,” Elena said.
I put my arm around her. “If anyone could make it safely, I think it would be her.”
She smiled. “You’re probably right.”
Darion scanned the eastern horizon. “I don’t think we should risk making a fire. We’re close enough to the main road for the smoke to be seen. It was warm today, and we’re far enough from the icy winds of the coast.”
He sounded like himself again—always planning, always vigilant. Like the man I’d trusted before things fell apart.
“I guess that’s one upside to sleeping with the horses,” I said with a laugh. “They’ll keep us warm.”
Elena smiled. “I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you laugh since you rescued me. It’s nice.”
Darion glanced over and smiled, too.
We all looked to the north, where the mountains rose before us. Beyond that, the land turned to broad plains. That was where our old home was, and a thousand memories with it.
“Tomorrow we head to the farm?” Elena asked, her mood turning pensive.
“That’s right,” I said. “And maybe we’ll find some answers.”
As the sun tucked below the horizon and the sky lit up with golds, oranges, and reds, we shared a cold meal.
No fire meant no light and no warmth, and since we wanted an early start the next day, we decided to turn in as soon as the daylight disappeared.
We all slept in the main room with the horses, making ourselves as comfortable as we could on the straw.
I woke in the middle of the night, a bit chilled. The place where Darion had slept was just an indentation in the straw. The slightest bit of panic tickled my senses, but the spot was still slightly warm from his body heat, so he couldn’t be far.
I searched the lower level of the keep for him and found nothing. But thanks to the stillness and quiet of the night, I could make out a faint shuffling of feet far above. I climbed the stairs of the tower, the moonlight just bright enough to guide me.
At the top, Darion leaned against the railing, looking out to the east. His face was angelic in the starlight. As much as I didn’t want to feel anything, seeing him like that filled me with warmth.
He saw me approach and smiled. “Sorry if I woke you.”
I waved off his concern. “What are you looking at?” I asked.
“See those little flickers of light?” Darion said, pointing eastward.
Sure enough, little orange spots dotted the forest far in the distance. “Campfires?”
Darion nodded. “Along the north-south road. Seems like a sizable group is headed north.”
I let my Ember flow the slightest bit. A very faint thrumming was right at the edge of my perception. “Sentinels,” I said with a sigh. “I can feel them.”
“I don’t think we should risk taking that road,” Darion said.
“I agree. I guess that leaves the mountain pass.”
Darion nodded. “Departing at first light would be best. Hopefully you can make it to your farm by nightfall, and then I can head west to the Order rendezvous point.”
“You should take the Emberbane,” I said, taking the vial out of my belt. “The Order will need it.”
“I’ll feel safer if it’s with you and Elena. It’s already saved you twice,” Darion said.
I nodded and put the vial back in my belt, noting that he’d chosen our safety over the Order.
We stood quietly under the moonlight. I looked over at Darion’s pensive face, ever thinking, ever planning.
“I have to be honest,” I said. “I’m surprised you’re willing to go to the farm with us instead of going directly to the rendezvous point.”
Darion faced me and looked deep into my eyes. “Maybe I haven’t made myself clear. I’d do anything for you and your sister. Anything for you, Cas.”
I had to look away. The urge to forgive him and run into his arms was nearly overwhelming, but that deeply planted seed of doubt still held me back, gnawing at me like a wild beast.
“I want to believe you,” I said. “I really do. But I can’t get that night at Pyrehold out of my mind. I simply don’t understand how you could ever treat that monster as family. Even if it was for the greater good.”
Darion drew in a long breath, then said quietly, “He murdered my mother.”
I stared at him, dumbfounded, speechless, the simple awful truth landing hard.
“When I was young, I never knew who my mother was,” he said, still soft and fragile.
“I was just a bastard son, sheltered in Orlik’s country estate and looked down on by everyone.
When I was thirteen, my Embers started to show.
I finally did some digging. This was a pattern for Orlik—spread his seed, then clean up the evidence. ”
His eyes were glossy as he looked to the horizon. “I’ve had to live with that my whole life. And that night before Pyrehold, when you told me that Orlik killed your mother, it nearly broke me. I wanted to tell you so badly, but I couldn’t risk it. Not when our lives were at stake.”
The realization hit me fast and fierce. I had said I couldn’t understand how Darion could live a double life. But that was no longer true. I understood exactly what that kind of trauma could make you do. It was what I had done my whole life.
I had been a fool, blinded by my own rage, unable to see that the man I cared for had the exact same trauma as me. We had simply dealt with it differently. And yet, we ended up in the same spot, together—scarred by the same man.
“Darion,” I said, choking back tears. “I’m so sorry.”
He looked my way, the pain in his face clear to see. “I’m sorry too,” he said.
We came together and held on tight, letting our emotions spill out in the quiet, knowing no one else in this world could ever understand this pain the way we did.