Chapter 46
Little Mouse
Mercifully, we crossed the length of that gods-forsaken valley without further incident, and I’ve never been so happy to be under the canopy of changing leaves.
As the sun slipped lower and the golden hue of the sky painted the pristine landscape with its softness, the aspens gave way to massive trees with leaves the size of my torso.
Plucking one of the smaller discarded giants by, I marveled at its color as much as its size, the crimson vibrant enough that even the fleeting sunlight reflected red onto my leathers.
Spinning it lazily between my fingers by the stem, a soft whisper of air fanned my cheeks every half spin as the leaf went around and around. “What kind of trees are these?”
“Maple,” Kaelun and Tarrin answered in unison as they trailed me.
“Maple,” I parroted, consolidating the word with their beauty. “They’re stunning. They don’t grow in the Nettorian Mountains, do they?” I asked Tarrin.
“Nah, it’s too cold that far north,” he answered from the back. “They don’t start until a day’s ride south of Thaddeus’ palace.”
“Hum,” I mused.
I released the leaf, watching as gravity united it with its fallen brethren.
I’d never been that far south. In fact, Thaddeus had only taken me to the lake, which I now realized wasn’t for my benefit—stars he’d played his cards well, each one of them a trump I was helpless to defend against until I was finally forced to fold.
I’d like to believe that if I did it all over again, I’d be stronger, see through his masks, but I wasn’t sure that was true.
Even now, I worried about silver tongues and the sweet nectar of promised belonging offered by others.
Or did I?
Hadn’t I embraced Kaelun like I’d done with Eithan countless times before?
Did that mean I trusted him, or was it merely a side effect of relief and adrenaline forming an intoxicating cocktail of comfort I greedily drank down?
It’s not like I was going to randomly hug the others to see if my aversion was cured.
Though, given Tarrin’s kiss, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.
When we were back and settled, he and I would have to have a much longer conversation about how he’d chosen love over war.
Steps ahead, Sidrick shifted his pack and sword for what the hundredth time since we’d left that valley. “You okay?” I asked.
“Just itchy.”
My nose wrinkled, remembering how Myron’s touch had itched something fierce when he healed the wounds Amos inflicted.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I rubbed warmth into my arms from the memory of the searing cold fog against my skin, and was acutely aware of how my breaths began to mist when the sun finally tucked herself away.
We ate rations on the fly as we traveled across the land at a healthy pace, jogging across any valleys—no matter how small—and while exhaustion had long since taken adrenaline’s place, I doubted we’d break for camp.
Our risk grew for every moment we intruded on Wymond’s land—as did Artton’s.
I didn’t care what Sidrick said about being shielded by some sort of code because they were Caius’ commanders, until Artton was safe and sound, I wouldn’t be able to take a full breath.
“Brother?” Kaelun called from behind me, not waiting for a response before he ran past and clasped Sidrick’s shoulder with a tight grip.
I’d been so lost in my thoughts I hadn’t realized that our leader had reached to balance himself against a tree.
“What is it?” Kaelun asked, his features cutting with concern.
Releasing his palm from the wide, knurled trunk, the commander rested it on his brother’s hand and patted it once before standing straight. “I’m fine.”
Kaelun’s brows furrowed. “With all due respect, Sir, I don’t think you are.”
Tarrin sidled up next to me, exchanging a glance with me before saying, “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Sidrick said.
“With all due respect, Commander,” Tarrin said, mirroring Kaelun, “I wasn’t asking you.” He pinned the younger brother with a look that showed exactly why he’d been Thaddeus’ highest commander for centuries, and I was grateful that I wasn’t on the receiving end of it.
Kaelun flashed his brother an apologetic look before answering. “There’s something wrong with his magic. His shield has been flickering over the past hour, but it just went down completely for a moment when he stumbled.”
Tarrin’s focus snapped to Sidrick. “Is this true?”
They stared each other down, commander to commander, before the summer fae breathed out. “Yes,” he said through gritted teeth as if pained to admit it.
“It’s his back,” I said. “He’s been fussing with his equipment since we left.”
“Where that thing dug its claws into you,” Tarrin said.
“Wait,” Kaelun interjected. “You were injured by one of them? What if their talons were poisonous like the arrow Uncle Artton took?”
His older brother went to object, but Tarrin cut him off. “Remove your clothes so we can take a look.”
“We can’t afford to stop. And, you don’t give me orders,” Sidrick tossed back.
“No, Co-mman-der,” his human counterpart said, enunciating each syllable to drill his point home as he took a step forward, his broad shoulders now square to the summer fae.
“What we can’t afford is losing the protection your magic provides—as a shield or a weapon.
And I’ll be damned if I’m going to go back to the Summer Court to report to a very powerful, very angry High Lord that we lost both of his commanders on this botched mission.
I, for one, value my life too much for that.
So, if it’s all the same to you, strip. Now. ”
The deep timbre of Tarrin’s voice left no room for negotiation, but that didn’t stop Sidrick from staring him down for a long, heart-stopping moment.
“Fine,” he huffed, dropping his pack. “But I’ll say this, Artton’s right, you really are a pain in the ass.”
Taking a step back to give him space to disrobe, Tarrin chuckled. “Says the man refusing to comply with basic post-battle mending.”
“It’s male,” Sidrick corrected, taking his uncharacteristic frustration out on Tarrin as he unstrapped his scabbard buckle from the front and placed it on the ground, gently resting it against the trunk he’d grasped for balance.
Tarrin made a dismissive motion with his hand. “Same thing.”
“Actually, it’s not,” Kaelun said with a tentative voice.
“Oh?” Tarrin said with a raised brow, then crossed his bulky arms over his wide chest.
I watched the summer fae like a hawk as I idly listened to the conversation, feeling more than a little annoyed at how alpha types—even a softer-spoken one like Sidrick—always felt the need to grin and bear pain.
“Well, yeah,” my shadow said, and from the corner of my eye, I saw him pulling on the back of his neck before continuing.
“The etymology of human is derived from the word humanus in a language long since dead to your kind. Translated it means human being. We are not human. Therefore, we are not men—we are male.”
My focus shifted to Kaelun for a moment. “Is that true?”
He nodded in response.
Tucking that information into the back of my mind, I turned to his older brother, noting his grimace as he struggled to pull his tight leathers over his head.
“Say I concede to your point,” Tarrin said. “Do you believe that holding fast to these kinds of delineations is divisive or connective?”
“It’s not about that,” Kaelun argued. “It’s about respecting heritage.”
“And at what point does heritage trump peace?” Tarrin countered.
“Because as I remember our feud from five hundred years ago, us versus them was the main tenet for war—and always is. When do we put aside what makes us different and celebrate what makes us the same? I’m assuming you have a dick, two balls, and fuck just the same as me, so as I see it, the words are synonymous.
I don’t call you man in insult. I call you man as brethren. ”
My focus had long since shifted from a struggling Sidrick to Tarrin, his wisdom pulling me up short—and oddly echoing Endymion’s sentiments on the matter.
Kaelun stayed quiet as he reassessed his human counterpart.
I’d read fae texts that immortalized the atrocities Thaddeus’ father had committed.
The fae clutched onto their victimhood, passing it down from one generation to another.
And who could blame them? He’d committed genocide.
Even worse, his progeny breathed every breath with one goal in mind—to finish what had begun half a millennium ago.
I’d known this truth. Had truly thought I understood it from both sides.
But as I stood there in the Autumn Court with black blood still caked on me in places, the fear of being captured nipping at our heels, and Tarrin’s words echoing in my mind, I realized I’d only understood it academically—had only ever understood my part in it academically.
Like those who learn history in a classroom, believing the past cannot crawl out of those pages and harm them, they do not heed the warnings as the guideposts they are meant to be but rather toss them aside like an outdated map they’ll never have to use.
How had I been so blind? Gods above and hells below, I’d been stupid.
My mind raced to understand why Caius would ever agree to let me go into a viper’s den.
Stars, I thought I’d understood Tarrin’s words when he explained why it made no sense—but again, I’d understood it academically.
Even theoretically, I still didn’t fully comprehend the role I play in Lumnara’s decline, but I sure as hells understood genocide, and given the vile nature of this court, I was truly terrified to know what evils Wymond would create should he get his hands on me.
And then with the force of a thousand boulders, it finally hit me.
There was only one reason they’d risk going on this mission. That they’d risk me ending up in the hands of our enemies.