Chapter 13
The crackling of the fire and the low snores from Theo and Henry are the only sounds in the quiet campsite. A familiar figure sits in the shadows, his broad back resting against the trunk of a tree and a tan forearm draping lazily across his elevated knee.
On the surface, Cal is a picture of casual ease, but I sense a tension in him. Something that simmers under the surface, wafting off of his statuesque body and chilling me.
“You missed dinner.” There’s a hint of sharpness in his words. “I saved you a plate.”
He flicks his fingers towards a plate resting beside the fire. It’s not close enough to further cook the meat but it’s close enough to keep it warm in the chilly night air. An extra kindness that he didn’t have to extend but chose to. Another tally mark on the scoreboard in his favor.
“You don’t have to be nice to me,” I say flatly.
I’m familiar with people being polite to my face and sneering the second I’m out of view, but I don’t know what to do with unexplainable niceties and mysterious motives.
“You’re important to me. This is what people do when they give a shit about you, princess.”
“See, that’s the part I can’t figure out, “ I start. Maybe if I push him he will finally confess what he is, finally tell me about the magic I know he possesses. “Why exactly do you give a shit about me? Why did you say what you said last night? Make it make sense.”
“It will,” he says, rising to his feet. “In time.”
“When? When you finally deem me worthy of knowing the true depths of who we’re up against?” I scoff.
“I told you that I would tell you, and I will … in time.”
“And I’m just, what, supposed to trust that? You’re asking me to blindly trust that your loyalty is truly with me and not your warlord, based on some vague story about protecting someone you love and nothing else. What good is the word of a stranger?”
Cal stares at me with a growing intensity as my questions linger in the night air. Flames dance in his gray eyes as he closes the distance between us. My magic jumps frantically at his proximity, subdued only by the stubborn anger that rages within me.
“I will never lie to you.” He grabs my arm, hauling my heaving chest to his. “And we both know we’re more than strangers.”
I pull away from him, eager to put the only thing that can calm my magic between us: distance. Cal’s forceful grip tightens, stopping me in my tracks.
“Let me go,” I demand through clenched teeth.
“Look at me,” he says, yanking my arm. “Ivy, look at me.”
My traitorous heart does somersaults at the possessive way my name rolls off his tongue. A chilly breeze stirs around us, shadows dancing in the corners of my vision. I whip my head towards him, fire burning in my eyes as I meet his.
“You can deny it all you want, but denial can’t change destiny. I’ll tell you everything … just as soon as you decide you’re done fighting the inevitable.”
“Fuck you,” I seethe, wrenching my arm from his grasp.
“Whenever you want, princess,” Cal says with a chuckle as he steps back into the shadows. “Just say the word.”
The first rays of light dance across the waves that lap gently against the port’s seawalls.
Horses neigh and tradespeople shout as day breaks in the capital city.
I peer over the large crates that block me from view of the palace guards, the men dressed in Corinthian gray and gold that pace in front of the iron gates.
Shadows surround me, further shrouding my black-clad body until the clock tower strikes six o’clock.
Magic blazes through my body, sending me into full alert.
Something is wrong.
The tugging in my gut urges me to the water's edge. I start to creep but the tug becomes a sharp pull, forcing me to the dock’s edge at breakneck speed. The end of the wooden plank is approaching quickly, but my feet don’t stop their hurried sprint.
A guttural scream pierces the air as my body surges into the icy ocean below. I call to my magic and summon vine after vine in a fruitless attempt to grab hold to the edge of the dock before I’m sucked into the watery depths.
Further I fall, much further than should be possible.
Bloody skin, now exposed through deep cuts in my pants, stings in the salty water.
Desperately, I swim upwards, silently begging whatever god will listen to grant me breath again.
My head breaks the surface only for a moment before my eyes latch onto the black beast cresting in the waves ahead of me.
A dark swish between the white caps floods my system with a panic so deep that my limbs no longer work.
Another primal scream breaks my lips, but it’s not for me. Something inside me in the core of my being rips. My very soul splintered into two. One name forces its way into my head, my heart, and my throat before the world goes black.
Cal.
The night air rushes back into my lungs in heaving gasps.
It’s too damn stuffy here. Using the edge of the blanket, I wipe the sweat from my slicked brow as I try and fail to steady my racing heart.
There’s no moonlight in the tent to help me mark the passage of time, no indication if I’ve slept long enough that the brothers have changed watch shifts.
But I’m willing to risk another encounter with Cal for the cool, crispness of the night air.
“You okay?” Henry’s deep voice carries low across the flames as I take an unsteady seat on the fallen log in front of the campfire.
“Just cold,” I lie.
A flash of something silver catches my eye. Marianne’s flute rests in the lieutenant’s hand, a soft polishing cloth clutched in the other. The tenderness of the act stark against the large calluses that decorate his palms. Hands capable of both delicate and deadly things.
A common familial trait, it would seem.
I want to ask about the flute, about the should-have-been Sapphire heir.
It’s been years since she was permitted to attend a summit.
A decade since all the heirs and spares to each region’s ruling families congregated in hopes we might naturally form alliances or proposals while our parents decided the future of Corinth.
A decade since everything changed.
“We’re soldiers, Ivy. I’ve seen more than my share of men who are haunted by their dreams.” Henry’s eyes never leave the instrument in his hand but see into my soul all the same.
“What about premonitions? Seen many men haunted by those?”
“Just one.”
He doesn’t elaborate. He doesn’t have to. The implication isn’t subtle, it’s crystal clear. Premonitions of death must be a side effect of encounters with the dark creature of the deep. Marked by the sea beast and forever unable to get a good night’s sleep again.
We fall into a revered silence, neither acknowledging the stop in conversation.
It’s only a matter of time before Cal finds out about my dreams, if he doesn’t already suspect.
And I guess it was only a matter of time before I discovered his, too.
Traveling in close proximity to someone doesn’t exactly afford anyone a lot of privacy.
At least this saves us from what was sure to be an uncomfortable conversation.
“Oh, by the way, Captain, we’re both going to die at the end of this journey.”
“Spectacular. Let’s get going, then.”
My eyes roll as far back in my head as humanly possible at the thought.
Inevitable. That’s what Cal said we were. Just like death, hunger, or taxes. All things that catch up with you eventually.
“He’s not your enemy.” Henry’s voice startles me back into the moment, his amber eyes now fixed attentively on me.
“He’s Marks’ man. You’re all Marks’ men.”
“We are Cal’s men. And my brother’s position is one of necessity, not of choice.
Your paths have been tied together for longer than you know.
Yes, he’s stubborn and infuriating at times, but he’s honest and loyal to those who deserve it.
He will lay down his life to raise you up and ask nothing in return.
But I am not my brother … I will ask the one thing that has never crossed his mind. ”
Henry stands and slides the silver flute into his back pocket before turning his fiery gaze back to mine. “Do you deserve it?”
I swallow the thick knot that lodges in my throat. My mind urges me to yell at him. I don’t even know Cal, and yet I have to answer if I deserve his fealty!
But that’s not entirely true, is it?
Cal’s right, we aren’t strangers. I may not deserve the captain’s loyalty but my cause does. We are unlikely allies tethered by a common goal and a fate that neither of us chose.
“A piece of unsolicited advice, Ivy. Acceptance isn’t surrender. Destiny may not be a choice, but happiness is.”
The loud braying of horses wakes me from my dreamless sleep.
Early morning light casts the inside of the tent in a warm greenish hue, a delicious smell wafting through the flaps of the tent door.
Throwing my boots on quickly, I step out to the sight of Cal cooking something round and white in the small frying pan.
Eggs.
My mouth salivates at the smell, a small moan escaping my lips that causes all three men to stop what they’re doing and stare at me.
“It’s been a while since you’ve gotten that kind of reaction from a woman, huh brother?” Theo winks at me, a devilish smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
My own mimics his when I notice Henry walking up behind him, hand outstretched ready to thwop his brother over the head.
“Hungry, princess?” Cal’s voice pulls my attention just before an audible grunt of pain sounds off to my right, neither of us paying any attention to the physical reprimand his brother just received.
“Starving, actually.” As if that wasn’t painfully obvious to everyone by my involuntary reaction.
Cal divides the small eggs between the four tin plates and begins passing them around the fire.
Judging by the size, I’m guessing that someone stumbled across a quail’s nest this morning.
I use the tines of my fork to pop the yolk, allowing the thick yellow liquid to run over the perfectly cooked whites.
One bite and I’m barely able to keep from moaning again.
“Oh my gods,” I manage to say with a full mouth.
“If she likes your eggs that much, she’s going to lose her mind over your venison stew,” Theo laughs. “It’s truly a work of culinary magic, Ivy.”
I look up from my plate to find Henry staring, a dark brow quirked up in a knowing assessment.
He believes there’s a world where I could have Cal’s stew, a world where the four of us share meals over abundant tables instead of sparse campfires.
But despite what he may think, that world doesn’t exist, at least not in our realm.
There’s an unspoken heaviness that grows with each passing minute, clearly signaling that the time for our traveling parties to split up is fast approaching.
When Theo and Henry clear the plates and begin the process of saddling the horses, I excuse myself to the woods to relieve my aching bladder, giving the men plenty of time to say their goodbyes in private. All traces of our stop in this clearing are gone when I return.
“Well, darling, I believe this is where we part ways.” Theo slings his arm casually across my shoulders, leaning in to mock-whisper in my ear. “Unless you’d rather come with me.”
“I’m afraid Amale beckons, darling,” I mock. “Your Lord General has a date with my particular brand of poison. Wouldn’t want to delay that, would we?”
A viciously handsome smile blooms across Theo’s face as he steps away to face me. “Gods, I like you.”
“Leave her alone, Theo.” Henry walks up to his brother’s side and extends his hand to me. “It really was a pleasure to meet you, Ivy.”
Unlike the last time he extended his hand to me, I take it. “Same to you, Henry. Where do your travels take you?”
There’s a slight hesitation, a quick tense of his jaw, there one second and gone the next, before he replies. “The Emerald Region, actually.”
“Oh.” I try to stifle the surprise in my voice as I ask the question I’m not sure I want to know the answer to. “What for?”
“They’ve got cargo to secure and a ship to catch,” Cal answers.
Ships out of the Bay of Jewels are mostly bound for the island nations or the Abalone Inlet in the Sapphire Region. Will one take Henry to see Marianne? Will the flute he holds so longingly be replaced with his lover instead? Has he ever given her the same advice about happiness and acceptance?
“Well, if you find yourself in need of some culinary magic or gossip as rich as your brother’s stew, pop into The Royal Jewel. My friend Miles practically lives there. He’ll show you a good time.”
“Yes, please do check in on … Miles,” Cal grumbles as he walks his brothers to their horses before he embraces each of them. His hug with Henry is firm and knowing, but his hug with Theo is a playful display of their dynamic.
When he walks back to my side, Cal extends his hand to help me onto my caramel-colored mare. Magic races up my arm from the spot where our fingers graze as I take them, Henry’s words echoing in my mind as we mount.
Acceptance isn’t surrender.
But it sure does feel like it from where I’m standing.