Chapter 12 #2
He laughs a little at my persistence and shakes his head. “It’s not done by the highest officers. Traditionally, the king chooses them, and he also decides when their service is complete.”
I glance at Ikar as disappointment washes over me.
I guess hoping that he might retire is off the table.
I’ve considered it before, and I can’t quite put my finger on it…
but something about his duty runs in his veins, and I don’t think he’d leave it by choice—even for love.
It appears less and less likely we could ever be together.
“So the three of you are stuck.” I try not to sound disappointed.
“If that’s the way you’re inclined to see it, then yes. But I see it as a privilege to work with the king as a close friend. He’s one of the best men I’ve ever known.” A sly smile tilts his lips. “I could introduce you, you know. You simply need to ask.”
“No! No. That won’t be necessary. I’m not interested in meeting him,” I say quickly. “That is, in fact, one of my worst nightmares.”
Darvy has just opened his mouth—I assume to ask why—but Ikar must have heard at least part of our conversation because he throws a thunderous look directed at Darvy over his shoulder.
Darvy ducks his head with a smile, and I find that the mischievous glint in his eye has me smiling too.
It’s in that moment that being in these secluded mountains with these men, knowing that we only have each other to rely on for survival…
There’s a comfortable camaraderie between us that I’ve never experienced before on a job—as if we’ve always been friends, even though it’s only been a day.
If it could just be me and them, taking jobs like this forever, I might not want to quit.
I imagine they could teach me much about navigation and weapons, and I’m sure I would get better at offering lucent…
A Black Tulip friends with the high king’s officers?
If they knew who I really am, the mark I bear, I can guarantee they wouldn’t see me as a friend.
A small voice reminds me I’ve also kissed one of them.
I glance at Ikar and scoff under my breath at how far I’ve fallen, but somehow, alone with them in this dark and very eerie forest, I can’t bring myself to care about the rules I’ve broken.
I want to be free, and this job will pave the way…
Now I just have to survive, and I know these men are my best bet.
If that means I find forbidden friends along the way, so be it.
We continue our trek through the forest, and it’s not long before we begin to see evidence of life long past. An aged axe stuck in a tree, skeletons left of what were once people’s warm homes, and gloam-infested wells that I try not to look too closely on.
It appears we pass through the remnants of what was once a thriving village.
Several large buildings lean to the side, walls crumbling with roofs fallen in and filled with trees and tall grass.
I’m afraid to look for fear I’ll find something, but afraid to look away in case I miss it—the worst sort of feeling.
We walk over mottled pieces of a once-cobbled road as we make our way through the abandoned community.
Some of the stones have crumbled to gravel, leaving the path uneven, as if it aims to purposely trip us and requires us to watch our footing closely.
But that’s impossible, because none of us are willing to keep from constantly scanning the buildings that line the path.
Shortly after the larger buildings end, there are smaller ones that, based on their size, must have been more homes.
Their walls still stand, acting as a shell of what they’d been, now overgrown with vines and brush.
Broken, foggy windows, and yawning, dark doorways fill my eyes. They’re blazing creepy, if you ask me.
I find myself sidling up beside Ikar, walking so close I bump his arm with my shoulder every once in a while, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
I’d like to think I’m quite courageous—I did agree to journey through this death forest—but right now I’m feeling anything but courage…
more akin to regret in the form of cold sweat and fear-induced nausea.
I’m not so proud that I can’t admit my chances at survival aren’t much better with him near.
I’d rather be clinging to his bicep and I’m not, so that’s got to count for something in terms of bravery.
Though we appear to be alone, it seems wrong to speak loudly right now—as if doing so might get us killed.
So I lower my voice and ask, “Did you expect this… village to be here?”
He eyes a structure to our left carefully. “The journal mentions it, but we didn’t know the state it would be in.” I don’t like the fact that his voice is just as much a whisper as mine. It means he feels the same.
I think I’d like to study more of this journal to find out what’s in store for us on this joyous journey, but now’s not the time.
He’s still focused on a partially collapsed house, and my heart picks up in pace.
Did he see something? I warily eye more empty windows.
This is the type of place where people die—I’m sure of it.
Something creaks and I jump, squeezing the straps of my pack, but I only spot a lean squirrel bound from within an empty house, staring at us for a moment before scampering away.
It’s then that I’m positive I hear a whisper that nips my soul, one that calls my deepest doubts and fears to the surface and forces me to gaze at them with eyelids pried open.
I’m not strong enough for this contract. I’ll fail and kill these men. I’m not capable enough to be part of such a mission.
Chill air bites at the skin of my face, reddening my nose.
Whispers grow in volume and my vision blurs in and out.
I’m positive I see small black forms in the shape of squat humans, but with only wispy gloam for appendages and oddly blank faces fleeting and skipping around us.
I attempt to focus on one, or is it five of them? More?
I should never have taken this job. I’m not good enough. My magic is weak. Nonexistent. Why do I even try? I’ll never be free. Never.
A feeling I can only describe as that of ultimate failure seeps through my body, traveling my veins like thick poison. All will to continue onward, to live, is numbed and slowly devoured by… whispers.
Rupi quills up and her feathers stab into my neck, giving me a moment of painful clarity as I reach up and wipe away warm beads of blood.
My vision sharpens, and I find Ikar with a distant look on his face, eyes filled with despair that matches what still reverberates through me.
We no longer walk, and I don’t know when we stopped, but I watch as each of the men relaxes the grip on their weapons as if they just lost a battle they desperately needed to win.
Their shoulders gradually lose strength…
dropping beneath the weight of defeat in their eyes.
I fight to keep my coherence even as I spy the shadowy appendages stretching out, wrapping around my comrades, only to look down and find one with wispy arms wrapped around my thighs and crawling up my body with glee.
I attempt to step back, but my legs won’t move.
I grab Ikar’s arm and shake it. “Ikar!”
But he doesn’t regain focus. He mutters something about worthiness beneath his breath that I can’t make sense of. My eyes widen as the hilt of his sword begins to slip from his fingers and look over my shoulder. “Darvy! Rhosse!” Panic and an unexplainable sorrow I still can’t shake tinges my voice.
No one so much as blinks in response, their gazes remaining distant and sorrowful, and I begin to lose the sharpness around me when my vision begins to blur again. The whispers grow louder as they drown out Rupi’s panicked chirping near my ear.
You are nothing. Your lucent is powerless. What’s the use in having it? Give it up…
The despair grows, drowning out all other feelings until I’m positive my soul will suffocate beneath it, until, out of sheer habit and instinct, I reach for the one thing that’s always been constant in times of darkness.
It fills my body so easily and naturally; it’s as if it was intended to beat through my heart, the same as the blood coursing my veins.
I pull an orb of lucent in my hand, and I’m shocked when, immediately, the whispers cease around us as the light bathes us in its glow.
I watch with shaky relief as the shadows are forced back, their wispy appendages shrinking back as if stung.
Ikar, Darvy, and Rhosse snap out of the odd trance, blinking and frowning, regripping their weapons and looking around, the despair and pain still evident in the creases of their eyes.
I don’t blame them. Having all your deepest doubts and fears played upon, that depth of despair…
it does something to you. It still prickles beneath my skin.
“Whispers,” I tell them, refusing to douse the orb just yet. I may just carry it like this the rest of the way.
“They really sneak up on you, don’t they?” Darvy attempts a joking tone, but it falls flat.
I don’t miss the disconcerted look on Ikar’s face as he runs a hand through his hair, and Darvy blinks his eyes as if he attempts to blink away the entire experience.
I jump when Rhosse claps a firm hand on my shoulder, and with a somberness in his voice, says, “Glad to have you with us.”
I offer a tight smile. I try to be confident.
I really do. But what if this was just a lucky chance?
I pulled lucent without thinking. I nod anyway, accepting his gratitude with as much grace as I can muster after nearly dying of despair.
Rhosse doesn’t seem the type to offer it freely, and I know I should feel honored.
But really, I feel as if I just accidentally set a bar so high I’m not sure I’ll be able to reach it again.
I meet Ikar’s eyes and find warm admiration there, shadowed by something I can’t define. He’s always seemed to carry a weight on his shoulders that I don’t quite understand, but it seems as if what we just experienced made it even heavier.
He begins walking again, and I step close.
“They were all lies,” I whisper in an attempt to help him feel better.
He glances down at me for a moment before he looks straight ahead again, and a muscle in his jaw flexes. “That remains to be seen.”
I frown. That’s too cryptic an answer to respond to without prying, and while I crave to know more about him, I know it’s not my place to ask, so I press my lips shut.
We continue forward in silence. No one seems inclined to talk much about what just happened, and now that I know how sneaky this forest can be, I’m even more on edge.
But instead of a hand on my sword, I pull a near-constant amount of lucent through my veins.
Though they can’t see it, I’m as ready as they.