Chapter 36 Ikar
Ikar
“You did it!” Darvy strides forward and gives me a brotherly clap on the back.
I can’t stop the grin that forms. He’s right.
We did it. I have the tulip. I also know I’m worthy.
That knowledge alone has healed a festering wound within me.
I don’t know what made me attempt to speak to her across her field with the path wide open before me, but the words I spoke aloud to her were answered with an overwhelming knowledge that Lucentia finds me worthy.
I can’t explain it. My mark may still be black as ink, but the hole left by years of doubt is now filled with determined confidence. I can feel it in my soul.
Rhosse leans in, squeezing my shoulder. “You’re the only one who ever doubted.”
I glance at Vera. “Don’t know about that.”
He follows my gaze. “She’ll come around.”
He seems so sure, but I truly doubt it, and it does no good to discuss it.
I eye the second sun, close to setting, the third soon behind it. We could probably make it back to the nymphs by the middle of night, but with the gloam as thick as it is…
“We’ll camp here and leave in the morning.” Everyone seems to relax a bit, and I continue. “That gives us one day and a night to reach the border.”
I’m not sure how Lucentia feels about people sleeping within the bounds of her field, but the gloam is so dense outside these fir trees that no one wants to risk sleeping in it.
Even from this distance and within the haven of Lucentia’s personal garden, I hear the snarls of beasts and woeful howling grow louder as the suns set.
We stay well within the treeline and set out our bedrolls.
Rhosse takes Vera into the trees to teach her how to hunt.
She looks horrified at the thought, and even appears to look to me to intervene.
I say nothing, knowing these skills are vital.
I won’t always be by her side to ensure she’s cared for, so while I want to rescue her from this, I don’t—it’s time she learns.
They manage to capture a plump rabbit that Vera refuses to clean and prepare, acting as if we made her kill her own pet.
Even after it’s roasted, she simply picks at the meat.
I shake my head and sigh. I look at her once more and find her face still a shade paler than normal.
This journey has taken a toll on all of us.
Rupi hops along my thigh, and I reach down to softly stroke her feathers.
Without her, I wouldn’t have the tulip, and that prompts a burning question.
Rupi fit in perfectly with the other birds in Lucentia’s field, so much so that I’m left to assume that she’s one of them.
Not only does she look just like the others, but she was able to drop a tulip in my hands.
Suspicion curls within me. Vera knows something about the list, and her pet is one of Lucentia’s birds?
My assumption that her friend is a Tulip seems even more likely.
I try to sound nonchalant, but tension flows through my veins. “Vera, where did you find Rupi?”
Rupi blinks an eye at me innocently at the same time as Vera’s eyes widen the smallest bit, and do I catch a flash of fear? “I found her in the forest when I was a child. I got lost, and she helped me get home. She’s stuck by my side ever since.”
I narrow my eyes slightly, and she ducks her head. I don’t sense a lie, but her actions tell me there’s more. I let the matter drop, unwilling to push it in front of Rhosse and Darvy who both listen closely, but I’m determined to find a moment to get the answers I need before this journey ends.
The tulip continues to occupy most of the space in my mind as the night deepens, and I can’t resist pulling it out once more to look at it. The box opens on silent hinges. Rhosse and Darvy’s interest is piqued, and they both lean in to see it closer. Vera eyes me from where she sits.
The stem is long, smooth, and dark green.
The petals are velvety black, but I recall seeing hints of deep purple in their depths beneath the light of the suns.
It hasn’t yet fully bloomed, its petals only lightly unfurled.
It’s such a small, innocent-looking thing.
I hesitate for a moment. My fingers itch to hold it, and my wonder quickly overtakes my worry that I’ll do something to damage it as I gently pick it up by the stem.
I can smell the honey-musk scent from its petals as I hold it to my nose.
I meet Vera’s eyes across the fire to find her still watching with unreadable emotion in her eyes, and I hold her gaze until she dips her head again.
Darvy eyes the flower with curiosity. “How do you use it?”
I turn it between my fingers, slowly, inspecting every perfect petal. “The Black Tulip and I must touch it to bridge. It’s all part of a big ceremony. One of Lucentia’s demands for the gift of lucent.”
Vera is watching again, her eyes glued to the flower in my fingers. Impulsively, I offer it to her. “Would you like to hold it?”
She shakes her head, looking slightly sick.
Just as well. Who knows what she’d do with it?
If she’s protecting a friend, she might even crush it beneath her boot if she gets the chance.
I pull the flower back and set it safely in the protective case.
I admit, if the roles were reversed, I’d be tempted to do the same.
I certainly wouldn’t want Vera bridging with Rhosse or Darvy.
Just the thought makes me want to punch something. Is it jealousy, then?
A new sense of compassion builds simultaneously with the pain of knowing that I can’t be with Vera. But no matter how either of us feels, I have a kingdom depending on me, and in order to save it, I have to have answers—I’d bet my enchanted sword she has them.
Darvy looks at Vera. “You know, the four of us make a pretty good team. You sure you don’t want to join us for the next part of the search? We could use you.”
“I think you’ll be just fine,” she responds quietly.
The words sound encouraging, but I see the way dread fills her eyes.