45. Harper
45
It was not long before they caught up with her. She faintly heard her name shouted on the wind long before she saw them, but no matter how fast she strode, she could not distance herself. That resignation drove into her like a stake to the heart with every step. Eventually, just beyond a ridge, and out of the cold breeze, Harper stopped and turned, waiting, her breath coming hard and her shoulders bowed with exhaustion. She straightened nonetheless, waiting for them to appear. When they did, she stared them down without a word.
“What can I say to make this right?” Aedon asked. Ragnar huffed beside him, slightly out of breath. Brand held back, and Erika lurked behind them all, a brooding, unfriendly presence that Harper ignored.
“Nothing,” Harper said coldly, though her heart ached. Ragnar and Brand seemed regretful. “Nothing you say will make me trust you again.” Unconsciously, her hand clung to the inside of her cloak where the stone lay, as if seeking to reassure herself it was still there.
Aedon shook his head. “Where will you go?” he asked, gesturing to the wide vista around them.
“I’m going to Tournai to return the Dragonheart to the king in exchange for passage home.” Her voice betrayed none of her swirling doubts. She was still unsure what she would ask of the king, but Aedon did not need to know it.
“He won’t send you home, Harper. He’ll kill you.”
“What do you know? You’re liars and thieves. You’ll say anything to get what you want.” Harper edged backwards. Her pulse ratcheted up for another reason now. They outnumbered her. Her eyes darted between them, watching for any sudden movements—ready to turn and flee if they tried to take it from her by force.
“I suppose we deserve that. We’d have to find another way.” Aedon glanced up hopefully. With one look at her stony gaze, his shoulders slumped.
“So be it. We won’t be travelling with you anymore then. We have our own mission to fulfill. We need to find some knowledge in the royal archives to help those villagers and they do not have time for us to waste here with you,” said Erika. She moved off.
Harper bit down on an entirely inadequate retort. The others remained where they were. Brand pursed his lips together. “Fair winds to you. Mayhap our paths will cross again.”
A part of Harper wanted to thank him for her training. The previous morning, they had sparred again. He had shown her how to block attacks and find gaps in her opponent’s attack. For the first time, as clumsy as she remained, something had seemed to click. She held her tongue, her throat blocked and her eyes stinging, and held her own head high, her mouth pressed into a thin line. Brand bowed his head at her silence and ambled after Erika.
She stood in silence with Aedon and Ragnar.
“I’ll miss having you around the campfire, Harper,” said Ragnar with a sad smile. “Goodbye, and good luck—I mean that.”
That one felt like a punch in the gut. Harper exhaled shakily through her nose, blinking away the sting in her eyes. Resisting the urge to break.
Aedon lingered. “Please don’t go,” he murmured. His gaze burned with an intensity Harper did not understand.
She shifted, softening, before steeling herself anew. “My mind’s made up.”
Aedon reached for her, but she stepped beyond his span. He let his hand drop. “Very well.” Aedon sighed, his shoulders slumped. He turned to watch the others, already a distance away, but did not move. “I can’t stay with you, but I don’t want to leave. You’ve barely seen how dangerous this land is, and I don’t want to see any harm come to you.” He pushed a hand through his hair. He did when distressed. Even the realisation that she had cared enough to notice that hurt.
“I can manage,” she said stubbornly, even though she was quite sure she couldn’t. Without even a knife, she could not hunt to sustain herself.
“Look, Harper, this is your last chance. Please, don’t go to Tornai,” he implored. “This will end in folly you cannot even begin to imagine. Plus, we need you. Just as much as your Dragonheart.”
“I have to go,” Harper said. To Tournai, then home. Caledan feels like an ever-fading dream already. Betta needs me. This had all been nothing more than a ridiculous and desperate dream. “This is what’s best for me. Your mission was never mine. I’m grateful for your help,” she allowed herself to concede, “but I can’t stay. Erika was right. I have a different path to follow.”
Aedon sighed heavily. The breeze sighed with him, grazing through the trees and grass, brushing Harper’s hair from her face.
“If your mind is made up, I cannot dally any longer,” he said dully. He reached inside the folds of his cloak and unbuckled his dagger. “Here. I want you to have this.”
Harper took it, holding it gently in her hands. “I can’t take this,” she whispered. The ornate scabbard was a shadow of the beautiful blade within. She had already admired it. Silver filigree on red leather that matched the grip and guard inside. A small pommel of intricately wrought steel, and a leaf-shaped blade the likes of which she had never seen.
“You need it more than I do,” Aedon said, stepping back and raising his hands when she held it out. “The handle of your knife was damaged and the blade nicked. I’m sorry. I hope this will serve you as well as it’s served me. Take care not to lose it. One day I might ask for it back.” His smile was half-hearted, but hopeful.
“I’m sure our paths won’t cross again, Aedon.” Harper fingered the dagger, feeling wholly out of her depth and ill-equipped to use it as it deserved.
“I hope they do, but promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“On your honour, swear that if you ever become a member of the Winged Kingsguard or something so grand, you won’t arrest me.” A flicker of his usual light-hearted humour broke through the creases of worry etched on his face.
Harper could not help but crack a small smile. A part of her hated that he could worm through her defences so easily. “I’ll consider it.”
“Well, I suppose this is goodbye.” Aedon lingered. It was clear he still wished for her to change her mind.
“I suppose it is. Thank you, Aedon, for everything.” Despite how this ended, she was grateful to them. They had saved her life. She didn’t want to think about what would have happened had she not run into him that day. “Goodbye.”
Aedon nodded and swallowed, before turning on his heel and marching away. After a few paces, he broke into a run to catch up with his distant companions, and did not look back. Harper watched them crest the hill and disappear. Despite their short companionship, she had grown to care for them. She hated herself for it, but to see them receding into the distance, knowing their paths were unlikely to cross again, made her ache more than she wanted to admit to, even in spite of the hurt that had been caused. And in the end, had they not proved themselves? No matter how desperately they needed that stone, they had not taken it by force when they could have done. That counted for something. It eroded the hot anger she felt towards them—leaving only her own surging pool of guilt at her selfishness.
She followed the valley until the land flattened out, trying to outrun that feeling. The great city of Tournai stood proud on the horizon, stretching up into the mountains like a crown amongst the foothills. As she hiked toward it, Harper tried to be distracted by the promise of what awaited—but there was no way to outrun the turmoil churning inside. She would live or die by the decision she had just made.