Chapter 24 #2
I can’t imagine it’s been comfortable not being able to move at all in the—I look up at the faint light filtering through the treetops—hours that I was asleep.
“I’m—I’m sorry,” I say, trying in vain to scoot away, straightening so at least I’m not plastered against him.
“You’re too thin” is all he says, bitten out like an insult.
I bristle. “Most of us don’t exactly get enough to eat, unlike the king’s guard.”
He says nothing.
I sit like that, firmly upright, muscles tired, until the horse begins to slow, and the world falls into focus again.
We’re finally out of the woods.
Light rain hits us all at once. The sky is gray, sun almost wholly blotted out. A storm is coming. A bad one.
The horse kicks down the side of a small rockface, and below sits a circle of water dark as night. At the center of it is a small piece of land. And at the center of that is a castle.
It’s small. Abandoned. Part of it is just a pile of ruins.
But some of it is still standing. The idea of shelter, after days spent in the mists and forest, makes my posture finally fall forward with relief.
That’s exactly where the horse takes us, riding the storm winds, galloping atop the water as if she is gliding on it.
She stops right in front of a half-crumbled door.
Cold bites my cheeks. I start to wonder how we’re going to make it back across the water, but I quickly spot a small beached boat. Across the lake is another one. As if someone paddled out and left the house behind.
Why?
The horse begins to lose some of its form. I start to scramble off, swinging my leg over, sliding—only for hands to grip my waist. Help me down. Immediately retreat. I turn toward Raker, but he’s already unsheathing his blade and stepping inside the ruins.
The horse huffs above me. She’s rapidly deteriorating. Some of the rain is going right through her now.
“Thank you,” I say, handing her the last apple. She takes it—but doesn’t bite. As if she’s saving it. Then she takes back off across the black water, until she’s just another wisp of storm wind.
I wait for Raker outside in the freezing torrent, thinking he’s gone to check if it’s safe … but he doesn’t return. When I see a faint curl of smoke coming from one of the few remaining chimneys, I walk through the door.
This must have been a beautiful place, once.
Now it’s hardly standing. Most of the ceiling is gone.
Rain falls through large holes that look almost shredded by massive talons.
Nature grows up the walls, and across the floor.
Deeper into the home, the damage is worse.
Some rooms are just piles of collapsed stone.
Others look like everything inside has been sucked out.
But I follow the warmth, toward one room that is almost fully intact. At the back of it sits a hearth.
Raker is crouched in front of the logs. His armor is in a pile on the floor. He’s back in that light material, along with his hood.
I crouch next to him, and he visibly stiffens.
Carefully, I reach my hands toward the flames, burying the flash of unease that always forms when I’m near fire.
“Thank you,” I breathe, closing my eyes, this warmth melting through my bones. I didn’t know how cold I was until I felt this heat.
Raker grunts out something next to me.
When we’re both warm, I turn to him. “My next lesson,” I say, reaching for my blade. My shoulder feels normal now. I have the bear’s saliva to thank for that. And Raker.
He stands. “I’m not training you anymore,” he says.
A fold forms between my brows. I rise. “What do you mean?”
His voice is sharp. Quiet. “It would be a waste of time.”
This again? “You said you’d teach me.”
“I changed my mind.”
I blink, and I … I don’t understand. Just hours before, he was speaking to me. Making a sound that almost resembled a laugh.
Where is this coming from? Why is he suddenly being so cold again?
“But—”
He turns, fast as lightning. “You want a lesson, Aris? Don’t run into fucking deadly mists. Don’t approach deadly creatures. Don’t look in wonder at something that will not hesitate to rip your throat out. Don’t say that this world that will kill you in a thousand different ways is beautiful.”
I stare him down, and he stalks forward, so I’m forced to tilt my head up to keep my gaze with the inside of his hood. He does not speak to me. He never does. But it seems like now he can’t stop. Now he needs to let me know exactly how he feels.
“You are the most reckless person I have ever met. Danger is drawn to you. And you run right toward it. It’s like you’re courting death.
It’s like you’re trying to take me down with you.
” I didn’t think it possible, but his voice gets sharper, colder.
“Every day, I think you can’t get any more foolish, and every day, you prove me wrong. ”
I flinch like I’ve been slapped. “I have survived this far.”
He just laughs. And it is mean. It is cruel.
He steps toward me. “You are only alive because my blade has stood between you and death. And I’m fucking tired of it, Aris.
I am not your savior. I am not your guardian.
” I frown. Is that it? The words from the hunter got under his skin?
He looks me up and down, and I can imagine that beneath that mask he is sneering.
“You want to die? Fine, keep going. But I won’t be watching. Not anymore.”
I open my mouth. Close it. I want to say a thousand things, but my throat tightens. The only thing that comes out is “You need me.” He needs my map. He wants my sword.
“I need you?” He laughs again, that cruel sound that makes me feel like I am no better than dirt. “You? The reason behind every trial, every problem, every attack we have faced?” He shakes his head. “No map is worth this. I’m better off without you,” he snarls.
My eyes burn. I feel a tear slide down my cheek.
And that only seems to anger him more. He steps right in front of me and says, “You are weak. You are foolish. If you want to live, turn around. Leave your sword. Give up. You don’t have what it takes to survive this.
You never did.” I don’t want to—I don’t fucking want to—but I start to cry in earnest. A sob escapes my lips.
He just shakes his head. “Go home, Aris,” he says.
Then he walks past me, past the fire, and out into the rest of the ruins.