Chapter 14
Vera
We survived our first day and night in the Lucent Mountains, but between the chill gloam so thick it felt as if I might suffocate and listening to every creaking branch and leaf crunch in the forest, I didn’t fall asleep once. It appears I wasn’t the only one who struggled.
I watch as Ikar runs a hand through his hair again, Rhosse attempts to smother another yawn, and Darvy has been much quieter today as we continue our trek through the forest. Ikar continues to keep up a pace so rigorous it’s hard to hide my heavy breathing and the sweat beginning to drip down my face, but I’m not complaining—I want to be out of this forest as much as they do.
The third sun is about to set when Rhosse easily catches the turkeys for dinner—I tried to warn them.
He leaves them nearby, and we work to gather materials for a fire while Rupi hops amidst coarse field grass nearby, pecking here and there for insects.
After getting a warm fire going that helps ward off the chill of the darkening sky, I overhear Darvy and Rhosse unsheath their swords, and the sound of metal on metal sounding behind me.
I’m just relieved it’s not me fighting this time.
I haven’t said a word about it, but I’m terrified of training with Rhosse, and I’m hoping they’ll all forget about it.
“You really should leave some women for the rest of us,” Darvy says.
I look over my shoulder, grinning at the way he taunts Rhosse. I can’t tell if Rhosse’s face is red from exertion or embarrassment.
Darvy blocks a hit and twists his sword to redirect Rhosse’s with effort. “Who were those two barmaids again?”
Another blocked hit. From Rhosse’s darkening expression, I’m beginning to grow concerned for Darvy’s safety, but he continues as if unconcerned.
“Melinda and Ashe?” He jumps out of the way and swings toward Rhosse’s exposed side, but Rhosse blocks it just in time. “No, that was the other tavern. Maven and Abigail.”
Rhosse swings harder, and Darvy’s sword flies from his hand. He puts his hands up in defeat, laughing.
With his sword tip at Darvy’s throat, Rhosse growls back. “Maybe if you weren’t so comfortable gambling, you’d catch a few yourself.”
“You sound like my mother,” Darvy says, pushing the blade away as he laughs.
“You should listen to her; she’s a wise woman.” Ikar smirks.
I try not to stare as he begins rolling the sleeves of his shirt up, then picks up the birds and heads toward a small creek burbling several yards away, hidden by trees and gloam.
I’ve been waiting for a moment to ask about the journal, and this feels like it might be it.
I jump up and jog after him to catch up, careful to make sure to walk on the side opposite the one that holds the swinging, very-dead birds.
“If you wanted to clean them, you could’ve just asked,” he drawls, looking straight ahead.
“And take the opportunity from you?” I joke sweetly. I’m secretly pleased when I see the relaxed smile on his lips.
“You should learn. It’s a skill you need in your line of work. I don’t know how you’ve survived this long.” I don’t like the serious note in his voice, which usually comes before an order.
“No thanks. I’ve done well enough without it.” Not only does the thought of it make me gag, but I’d rather eat gloam leaves than kill my friendly forest animals.
Ikar lifts a brow. “Fine, not today.”
I let out a breath of relief.
“But soon.”
The gag threatens my throat again. I just know he’ll do what he says he’ll do. My only hope is we finish this journey before we get time.
He kneels down near the water and begins to prepare the turkeys to be roasted over the fire. I look away, having no desire to watch. Instead, I make myself comfortable on a large rock nearby. I’m sure he’s wondering why I tagged along, so I get straight to the point.
“Ikar?”
“Hm?”
I resist the urge to look his way. “I’m wondering… what flower does the king need? Maybe I can be more helpful if I know what to look for?”
“Inside pocket of my vest.”
The book. I whip my gaze around and find that he hasn’t looked up from what he’s doing. Does he intend for me to grab it myself? I sit there on the rock, unmoving until he looks up at me.
“You’ll have to get it.” He lifts his hands, and I swallow with difficulty. I’ve never done well with blood, hence why I didn’t assume the title of healer.
I hop off the rock. “Get what?” I act innocent, as if I haven’t been driving myself crazy wondering what’s inside those pages all this time.
“The journal.” He turns to face me, holding his hands wide and chuckling as I give them a wide berth with a disgusted look.
I step closer, telling myself not to make this more than it is.
I’m simply snatching the journal and backing off.
I’ve seen him tuck it away easily, so I assume it won’t take long to find.
I tentatively reach inside the warmth of his armor.
Immediately I feel the defined muscles of his chest through his shirt.
Not only that, but I feel an assortment of knives, a folded piece of parchment, and what feels like a compass.
How many things can he be hiding in there?
“Other side.” His voice is deep and holds a note of humor, and my cheeks warm.
I avoid his gaze and purse my lips. I try to not be awkward as I fumble around the other side before feeling a small book beneath my fingertips. I yank it out as if he’s burned me.
Ikar returns to cleaning the birds as if he wasn’t affected by our nearness at all. It appears I’m the only one who struggles to maintain a professional relationship at this point. That sour thought has my lips pressed together.
Tufts of feathers poof into the air as he says, “I figure I can share more detail now that you’re officially on this journey with us. But remember that included in the contract was a confidentiality notice. You agreed not to tell anyone what you helped us find, where we found it, or what it’s for.”
I nod, feeling a little nervous now. The journal feels like a hot coal in my hands.
“Good. Turn to the page I’ve marked—its corner is bent. Two pages after that is a drawing of the flower we search for.”
Bent corner. I open it to find scrawling aged handwriting filling every bit of the pages in neat, faded lines. Flip two pages. I suck in a breath and almost die. A drawing of the flower that is clearly marked at the base of my neck stares up at me.
Ikar glances up at me momentarily, still busy with the birds. “You found it. Do you know what that is?”
Do normal people know what these are nowadays?
I swallow. “It looks like a… flower” —my voice catches— “…of some sort.”
“A black tulip,” he says in a no-nonsense way.
I’m screaming inside. I close the book shakily, slowly, trying to act cool—bored, even. But it’s hard when I can hardly draw a breath as panic squeezes my lungs.
“It’s pretty, but what’s it for?” I ask, my voice a little higher than it should be.
Ikar smiles sardonically. “What you really want to ask is why would a king risk some of his highest officers and a powerful originator’s lives to find one?”
“Yeah, that.” I try to smile normal, but it feels unnaturally tight.
“You’ve heard of the Queens of the Night.” He looks up as he states it. It’s not a question.
“Everyone has.” I shrug a shoulder and act like it’s common knowledge, but it doesn’t relieve the suspicion in his blue eyes.
For a moment, I worry he suspects me of being a Black Tulip, but then I remember he has always suspected I know something since I destroyed the list of names. Now I’ve unknowingly reopened that awful conversation. I knew I shouldn’t have asked questions.
“Well, finding one of them is the next step on our mission. The king plans to bridge to restore lucent. He’ll need the black tulip flower and a Queen of the Night to do so. It might be the only way to save our kingdom.”
I freeze inside while the words he just spoke sink in, pushing me past the point of coherent thought as the world around me blurs.
The Black Tulips’ worst nightmare comes to pass, and I’m supposed to help with it.
Somewhere far away, I hear a splash in the river, birds calling, Rupi tugging at my earlobe.
When did she arrive? Ikar’s standing now, the birds cleaned and ready to cook, lying nearby.
His hands are washed clean with his sleeves still rolled up and revealing his forearms—one of my favorite looks on him.
I float on the distracting thought, staring at his corded arms, allowing shock to dull my senses.
“—list?” he asks.
“What?” I jerk my gaze to meet his.
He smiles, somewhat confused by my behavior. “I asked if you can tell me what you know about the list of Black Tulips, the one you ruined when we first met? Do you know any of them?” He smiles casually, but the look in his eyes reminds me of a stealthy predator.
The dratted list that started all of this.
I still haven’t spoken, so he continues. “Now that you trust me and know my mission, I’m hoping you’ll share what you know. It could make a big difference.”
Now my hackles rise, his assumption stretching too far, my emotions too battered.
“I know you, but I don’t know the king and I don’t trust him or—” I almost say originators, but that would blow my cover, so I press my lips shut before the word comes out—barely catching myself.
“—or who?” Ikar asks.
“Anyone. I don’t trust anyone,” I say flatly.
“Except me.”
“Sort of—you.” If I’m being truly honest. I cringe a little as I say it.
He throws his hands up in the air and mutters a curse. “You are the most—”
“What? Most what?” I challenge with narrowed eyes as I walk toward him.
I practically shove the journal at him. He takes it slowly and slips it back inside his armor.
We’re close enough now that I can see the small gray specks in his eyes, surrounded by a ring of darker blue, and the small scar that infringes on his perfect upper lip.
We stand there for one moment, then two.
Then we’re both leaning forward, an invisible pull between us. His hands slide up the back of my arms as I feel the barest touch of his warm lips against mine—
“The birds ready yet?” Rhosse growls from the forest behind us.
I startle so hard Ikar has to steady me for the briefest moment before we abruptly step away from each other.
Ikar rubs a hand across the back of his neck, avoiding looking at me. “Yep. Coming.”
We walk in awkward silence the rest of the way back to camp.
“Have fun cleaning the birds?” Darvy asks with a glint in his eye.
Ikar mutters something to him that has him immediately quiet, but it doesn’t wipe the mirth from his eyes.
I gingerly take a seat before the fire. What in the blazes is wrong with me?
I just told him I didn’t trust him… and to prove it I almost kiss him?
I silently groan. There is something wrong with my taste in men.
He might not be a criminal, but he is a favorite of the high king and I consider that even more dangerous.
Now he’s distracting me from the fact that the high king wants a Black Tulip to bridge with for the first time in two hundred years.
He says the king wants to bridge to restore lucent, that it might be the only way to save the kingdom, but why should I trade the safety of my Tulip sisters and myself for lucent to be restored to a kingdom full of people who hate us?
It’s a selfish thought… and maybe it makes me a little wicked, but we don’t owe these people anything.
There’s no way to know if the king is kind and genuine, or evil and twisted.
But my biggest fear? That after we’ve restored lucent a future king will end up having us tracked down and killed under the guise of what’s best for the kingdom again.
History tends to repeat itself, but, in this case, it can’t if the Tulips stay hidden.
The inklings of true regret flicker to life as I recall my decision not to pay the dues.
I tug on my bracelet twice, and it still holds, so I assume it continues to work, but it’s only a matter of time until it stops.
I stare at it with the growing realization that I do actually need it.
Tatania was right all these years, and I ignored her.
But here in the remote mountains I’m safe…
from the high king, at least. It’s the time between when I return to the kingdom and get Tatania paid that I’m worried about.
My cheeks heat at the thought of groveling before her to take me back, but knowing what I know now, I have no choice.
To ease my panic, I remind myself that I’ve never seen the king in my life, so it’s not likely it’ll be an issue at all, and I’m worrying over nothing.
I can’t help but wonder, though, what will happen when my bracelet stops working?
Will it simply fall off? Turn to dust? Or will it show no change and I won’t be able to tell at all?
The questions surrounding it are a bit unnerving.
Rupi lands atop my wrist and turns a curious eye toward me. I twist the bracelet again.
“I should’ve paid the dues, girl,” I whisper.
She chirps once and pecks the bracelet as if it’s a bug she’d like to eat. I take that to mean she doesn’t agree with me.
And what do I do about this job? I can’t help the king’s extremely capable officers find a flower that could destroy my sisters and me… but I signed a contract.
I bite my lip and continue to turn the bracelet around my wrist as I mindlessly watch Rhosse turn the turkeys over the fire.
I come to the decision that, until I know the king’s true intentions, which are probably horrid, I’ll only offer magic as I contracted to do—as little as necessary, only enough to keep these men and myself alive.
But if I see that flower, I’ll do everything I can to make sure it doesn’t return with us.
My conscience is satiated with that compromise.
I’m not betraying my sisters, and I’m not betraying Ikar—fine line though it is. I’ll just have to walk it carefully.