Chapter 3 #2
Weary to the point of passing out, I trudge on, my eyes heavy and my vision slanting.
A faint shimmer catches my eye, and after convincing myself it’s not the silvery stars one sees before fainting, I slow to a stop and peer closer at the plant growing beside the trail.
Silverleaf. A plant that produces a faint ringing sound when touched.
They have a lovely mint flavor and, more importantly, healing properties.
My stomach releases a loud rumble. I realize with a knee-weakening jolt that I’m starving. I could eat a horse. A house. I could gnaw on a tree trunk like a feral raccoon if Falcen would allow it.
“Wait,” I say to Falcen, though he’s already stopped in the middle of the trail and scowling at me. “These leaves can help heal my injuries. They’re safe to eat raw and could restore my strength.”
Falcen eyes me suspiciously. “How do I know you’re not trying to poison yourself?”
The accusation stings, but I can’t deny he has a point. After all, I did just try to throw myself into a Veil tear.
“Look,” I say, my voice soft and tired. “I’m not going to try that again. I just—I need to eat. Please. I can barely think straight, and if I’m as dangerous as you say I am, wouldn’t you rather I be coherent?”
I hate to plead, but the gnawing emptiness inside me overrides any pride.
Falcen’s scowl turns into a close study. He angles his head as he gives me the once-over. “What you did with the village boy drained you. It’s been a very long time. I’d forgotten what it was like to soul-render as a novice.”
He strides closer, then reaches down to pluck a leaf, a pleasant musical tinkling following his yank.
I watch enviously as he examines it, realizing with a start that I haven’t seen Falcen eat or drink anything since we began this journey.
“You don’t eat, do you?” I ask.
“No,” he says, keeping his attention on the leaf as he turns it this way and that. “I don’t need to.”
The implications of his answer make me gulp. Falcen no longer needs human sustenance, since he now feeds on souls. How old is he, anyway? He looks to be maybe twenty and eight. But appearances can be deceiving, especially with the Soulren.
“Are you going to untie me so I can eat, or…?” I try to keep the wretchedness out of my voice.
Falcen’s lips twitch in what might almost be amusement. “Nice try. I’m well aware of what those hands can do when free.”
He holds the leaf up to my lips. “Open up.”
I hesitate, acutely aware of the gesture’s intimacy and the vulnerability of my position. But hunger wins out. I part my lips, allowing him to place the leaf on my tongue. Our eyes lock for a moment until I force myself to chew.
The leaf bursts with cooling flavor in my mouth, its energy spreading through me like an arctic wind. I swallow back a grateful moan as it flows down my legs, mending my ankle and the scrapes and bruises I’ve accumulated.
Falcen’s lids lower. The skin under his eyes tics as he watches my reaction to the food, his full mouth parting.
His undivided attention nullifies any cooling balm the silverleaf had on my body. A fire forms in my belly, the rising smoke forcing my heart to ring an alarm.
“There’s some luminmoss over there too,” I say quickly, breaking the moment. “It’s not as tasty, but it’ll help fill me up.”
Falcen blinks, then gives a curt nod, reaching for the velvety moss neighboring the silverleaf plant. He very carefully brings the small handful to my mouth, his fingers barely brushing my lips.
“You know a lot about forest foods,” he comments, his tone cautious.
I shrug as best I can with my hands tied. “When you grow up poor in a small village, you learn to forage or you go hungry.”
I chew the luminmoss, its coarse texture filling my mouth.
The flavor is muted compared to the silver leaf’s minty zest, but the moss’s sustenance flows through me.
It soothes the bothersome emptiness in my stomach even though I have to force the dense fibers down.
Falcen watches me, his hand hovering near my lips, ready to feed me another morsel.
Inadvertently, my eyes return to his. I force myself to look away, convinced he’s only studying me this intensely because the act of eating is so foreign to him these days, and not that I fascinate him.
When I finish the last of the moss, Falcen’s hand drops back to his side.
“Better?” he asks gruffly.
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. The food has restored some of my strength, but it’s also heightened my awareness of Falcen’s presence, of the way his body seems to radiate heat.
He studies me for a moment longer, then resumes walking. “We’ve wasted enough time. We need to reach shelter.”
I fall into step behind him, my legs steadier now, my mind clearer. As we continue, I can’t help but wonder about Falcen, about the man beneath the metal and the scowls. What drove him to become an Elite?
As we trudge through the dark woods, I find myself stealing glances at him, trying to reconcile the harsh warrior with the man who fed me with surprising care.
A chill seeps under my clothes, but only partially due to the drop in temperature.
The forest feels different at night. More alive, more aware.
I was warned never to go into it when Nox moved into the sky, and his creatures came out to play.
Even when Mother was at her sickest and needed as many silverleafs as I could find for her tea, my grandmother forbade me.
Falcen forges ahead, seemingly unperturbed by the oppressive atmosphere. His broad shoulders cut through the gloom, his black hair melding with the encroaching night until he almost appears to be part of it.
I shiver, remembering the tales whispered around the village hearths. Stories of the Soulren, the deathless warriors who sold their humanity for power. Men and women who could command the Void, bending its nightmare creatures to their will.
And I’m supposed to become one of them.
Fear scratches at my throat, threatening to steal my breath. I force more inhales and exhales.
I will not let this break me. I will survive it, as I’ve survived everything else life has thrown my way. Even if it means playing along with Falcen’s games, biding my time until I can find a way to escape.
The thought lends me strength, straightening my spine and quickening my steps. I may be Falcen’s prisoner, but I refuse to be his victim.
“Another thing about soul-sipping,” he says idly. “It attaches me to your thoughts for a time.”
Falcen glances back at me, his gold-rimmed eyes slicing through the cloak of darkness. A ghost of a smile plays at the edges of his lips. Cold, cruel, and full of the certainty that if I try anything, any escape attempt, he will always be there to stop me.
I blow out a long sigh and nod, too tired to argue. We press on, the forest becoming denser, the air heavy with the scent of moist earth and decaying leaves.
Just as I’m about to collapse from exhaustion, Falcen stops, his hand raised in a warning gesture. I peer around him and see a small cave. Hopefully, it’s vacant.
“This will do,” Falcen says, surveying the area with a critical eye. “Stay at the entrance. I’ll secure the inside.”
I sink to the ground and lean against the stone at the side of the entrance as Falcen stalks off into the gaping black hole. Exhaustion tugs at my eyelids, urging surrender to the netherworld of sleep. But I resist, forcing myself to stay alert, to listen for any signs of danger.
The forest is eerily quiet. The only sounds are the whisper of the wind through the trees and the distant hooting of an owl. I strain my ears, trying to catch any hint of Falcen’s return, but the night remains still.
Part of me hopes he ran into something evil that’s incapacitated him. A larger part reminds me that I need him to return unscathed and help me survive.
Minutes stretch into an eternity, and I feel myself slipping, my head growing heavy.
Just as I’m about to nod off, a branch snaps nearby, jolting me back to full alertness.
I sit upright. Squinting into the darkness, I try to make out any shapes or movement.
“Falcen?”
A low growl ripples through the air.
Slowly, I clamber to my feet.
Smoldering black eyes glare back at me from the underbrush.
The creature slinks forward, its body low to the ground, its hackles raised.
I slam backward, my bound hands scrabbling for purchase on the mildewed stone.
“Falcen! Help!”
The Void hound advances, its eyes fixed on me, saliva dripping in strings from its maw and plopping to the ground.
And it brought friends.