Chapter 39 Ikar
Ikar
We left the nymphs three days ago, and while I fully expected to be attacked by more gloam masters, all has been quiet—our return trip almost too uneventful.
It’s left me with too much time to dwell on the way my magic reacts to Vera and the fact that we will soon part ways.
We busy ourselves separately before the fire, but I can’t help catching a glimpse of her every now and then as I try to memorize her features… as if I haven’t already.
Rhosse sharpens and cleans his weapons meticulously, and Vera sits a few feet away from him watching Rupi attempt to thwart a spider.
From the way she dodges, hops, and her feathers continue to quill up, combined with angry chirps, it appears the spider is winning tonight.
Darvy is seated nearby, a bit of charcoal in his hand that is quickly forming what looks to be Rupi in a small book he carries.
The tulip, cradled safely in its box and secure in my pack, has occupied my mind since Rupi dropped it in my hands.
Vera may not be my biggest supporter, but Rupi adores me.
The hope and confidence brought on by having a tulip in my hands has doused further doubts about my ability to save my kingdom.
Rupi finds me worthy. If I were to say that aloud, I’d be mocked, but there’s something about that tiny bird that seems to know things.
To me, her opinion counts. And Vera’s story about simply finding Rupi in the forest?
I’m still not sure I completely believe her.
But those details are minor compared to the other information I need from her.
I mentally switch gears from searching out a flower to searching out a Black Tulip.
From the look of betrayal in Vera’s eyes when Rupi gave me the flower, I don’t think she’ll be open to me asking about the list again, but I have to.
I’m quite aware of the feelings that simmer between us—if my pet gave Vera a flower that would bridge her to another man, I would also feel betrayed.
The thought tightens my chest almost painfully with sorrow. I don’t know how I’m supposed to make a life with another woman when the only one I can think about is Vera. But constantly the people of my kingdom weigh on my mind. Always, duty first.
If all goes as planned, tomorrow we will find sharp flyers waiting in the field where we began. I have no more time to wait for her to share what she knows… Maybe this isn’t the kindest way, but what other choice has she left me?
I pull out the journal, flip to the back where several empty pages remain, and frown at the empty space. It feels wrong to write in my grandfather’s journal. I slap it shut.
“Darvy, your charcoal and book?” I reach a hand out toward him.
He finishes a few more sweeps along what is becoming Rupi’s back and hands it to me. “You want to draw?” He appears confused—as he should be.
Even Rhosse raises his gaze to see what I’ll do. They both know how nonexistent my art skills are.
I smirk, unable to resist goading Darvy. “Maybe if you’d skipped more of your art lessons to practice weapons, like I did, you’d be as good as me.”
I pull out my sword the same time Darvy does.
We’re both up from our seats, our weapons smashing together amidst my laughing…
until he nicks my hand, and the laughter dies in my throat.
Metal rings in my ears as he blocks my swing.
We continue that way, both blocking the other, no one getting the upper hand, until Rhosse calls the fight several minutes later.
“It’s a toss-up. Sit down before one of you gets injured,” he says gruffly, but I hear the smile in his voice.
I run my forearm across my brow and grin at Darvy, who grins back, breathing heavily.
“We had to settle things,” Darvy says matter-of-factly, as he sheathes his sword and heads back to his seat in the dirt, leaning back against a fallen tree trunk, looking pleased with himself.
“Nothing is settled. I still stand by my comment,” I argue as I once again take a seat on the fallen log and grab Darvy’s book.
Darvy gives a smug smile. “Who got first blood?”
“That’s only because I wasn’t taking it serious—”
“Men,” Vera mutters.
My lips lift in a half-grin at her comment. She would be amazed how quickly problems between soldiers are solved—this was nothing. But I force myself to focus; the journey ends tomorrow.
I open Darvy’s book and flip to a blank page, readying the piece of charcoal between my fingertips, and hoping I can write legibly with it well enough.
“On a serious note…” I look between Darvy and Rhosse. “We all read that list of Tulips. We should have done this sooner, but there’s no better time than now. Let’s make a list of the names we can remember.”
Vera stiffens as she scoops Rupi from her game with the spider and holds her in her lap, stroking her feathers—something I’ve noticed she does when she needs comfort. My heart begins to soften at the evidence of her stress, but I squash the feeling of compassion. I need answers.
Darvy begins. “There were seven.”
I nod, remembering the same, and number the list before me.
“I remember a Patricia, or maybe it was Tetra?”
Rhosse nods. “Petra. I remember that one, as well—it was the first one. And Nova was on the list. It’s my aunt’s name—it helped me remember.”
I nod and scribble the names down. “I remember two, Fina and Maven.” I look up at each of them. “Three more.”
Four is great. The entire list of seven is better.
“Vera?” Her head jerks up at her name. “Do you remember any?”
She looks at me like she might spit on my boots. “Nope,” she says, the p popping a bit with her attitude, matching the disdain in her eyes.
I want to understand her hesitation, but I can’t wait any longer.
I plow ahead. “Any others?”
Darvy speaks again. “The only other one I sort of remember was a different type of name, one I haven’t heard before. Was it Avanna?” He shuts his eyes, trying to visualize it.
I find myself watching Vera from the corner of my eye. She’s statuesque again and pale, stroking Rupi’s feathers so hard that she’s beginning to quill as Vera’s hand passes down her back. But Rupi stays where she is, handling the mindless, anxious stroking like the hardiest of soldiers.
Darvy tries again. “No, that’s not right.
Avetta?” Now he’s frowning with frustration.
“It was something like that. It’s right there in my mind, but I can’t quite visualize it.
Maybe I’m just thinking that because Vera is with us, and it somehow seems similar.
But I know it’s a longer name.” He laughs and Vera joins him, albeit slightly forced.
“That’s alright.” I write down the ideas in case it helps us later. “We’ll think of them or we’ll find someone who can get us another list.”
I eye Vera with an accusatory glint. She stares back without an ounce of guilt in her cool gray eyes.
I break the stare between us and look at the page of names. “We aren’t the only ones to have had eyes on those names. Someone else compiled it and sold it. I suppose finding out who that was will be our next course of action.”
“You don’t know who made that list?” Vera asks in a controlled voice.
“I never did tell you where I got it, did I?” I smirk. “No. I don’t know who compiled the list.”
Darvy folds his arms across his broad chest. “No, he ditched Rhosse and me, and won it fair and square in an illegal fight ring.” He looks my way. “I still hold a grudge over that.”
Vera’s face pales even further. I’m worried she might keel over in a dead faint. Is it concern for me putting myself at risk in a fight? Or the fact that someone else seems to know the names of the Tulips? I’m betting on the latter.
I carefully remove the page from Darvy’s book and slowly fold it, pressing the edges into flat creases, wondering what means Vera will resort to this time to destroy it.
Will she simply lift it from my pack? Another tea dousing?
Or maybe she realizes now that no matter if she destroys it, not only do we remember a few of the names, but there’s someone else out there that knows every single one—something she can’t change.