13. Galene
Chapter thirteen
Galene
I follow Tarin through the rocky pathways for some time. I’m not sure where he’s taking me exactly, even if he says he’s checking on prints in the dirt and broken branches. At times, I insist on going in one direction, and we bicker for a while before one of us gives in.
The only weapon we have is the dagger on my belt, but I prefer to keep that to myself. If I’m going to be alone with this man, I prefer to be the one with the weapon. Even though he could likely kill me with his bare hands before I pull the dagger from its sheath.
The sun has already dipped toward the horizon and has long since hidden behind the higher points of the mountain. All around us are rock walls and rough pathways that incline or decline. I feel like we’re trapped in a maze. The only sounds are the clumps of dirt shifting under our steps and the low howl of wind.
“I can’t believe they vanished like that,” I say, shaking my head. “Be honest. Are you really following their trail, or…? ”
“Or what? You think I’m purposely keeping us here?”
I shrug.
He grins at me, which makes me grow hot with anger.
“What?” I demand.
“You pout when you have no response,” he says with a smirk. “It’s cute.”
Cute? Did he just use that word? I eye him mistrustfully, feeling flustered. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Because I thought it was a foolish one,” he says, his smirk growing wider. “Am I following their trail or keeping us here on purpose?” he asks.
I nod.
“I will answer that if you first answer my question.”
I know what’s coming.
“What was that golden light?” Tarin asks.
I shake my head in defeat. We step through a narrow gap between the rocks and come out onto the other side to find more open pathways and high walls. I don’t like that we’re going higher instead of lower.
“Can’t you let it go?”
“Can’t you put a little trust in me?” he retorts.
“No,” I snap.
“Then no,” Tarin murmurs.
I sigh, then say, “I was one of the few who discovered their magical abilities when the world changed,” I admit. “I’ve hardly tested what I can do, but… When I concentrate, I can summon light from my hands. Sometimes it happens without me thinking about it.”
“Your father has the same gift? ”
I nod. “Similar. Maybe it’s the same. I don’t know. I never asked for it, anyway.”
“What you did back there,” Tarin says, watching me carefully. “That was more than just light.”
“I know. The light… hardened. It became solid.”
“Very solid,” he says. “It didn’t even jar you, did it?”
I shake my head and shift some muddy hair from my face. I’m beginning to notice how bad I smell.
“You can probably do a lot more than that if you explore your powers,” Tarin says.
“No thanks. Not interested,” I say, but hate how stubborn I sound. “My father keeps telling me I should master my powers. I just want to stay the person I was before.”
“You still are that same person,” he says, and watches for my response. Why does his gaze feel so heavy and powerful?
“You don’t know me,” I say, then turn sharply away. “Oh.”
I spot a pool of water on the rock. My guess is it’s collected rainwater, but it’ll do me just fine. I drop the bag of supplies and bend down to wash some of the mud from my arms and hair. My skirt is ruined and my blouse has fared little better, but it feels good to clear some of the mud away. Tarin looks around us while I clean myself.
I feel somewhat better with my arms and legs cleared of the mud, and some of the larger chunks removed from my clothes. My blouse is soaking now though, and I notice Tarin’s eyes roaming my body, though he tries to hide it. I dismiss him and finish cleaning myself as best I can .
“I might know you better than you think,” he finally responds.
I feel myself flushing with annoyance and turn to face him. “Oh, really? Go on, then. Tell me who I am, if you know so much.”
His face tenses with something earnest, like he’s stripped away his arrogant mask and showing his true self. His true self that startles me.
“I know you have a big heart,” he says, “and care too much for others. You are one of the most selfless people I’ve ever met. But you hide your kindness and care behind a tough, stubborn exterior because you’re afraid of getting your sensitive heart hurt.”
That leaves me speechless for a second before I compose myself. “Generic,” I simply say, and fold my arms over my chest. I can feel the cold air seeping into my wet skin, but I fight back the urge to shiver.
“I can see what kind of child you were,” Tarin says. “I can see it clearly. Full of life, and very cheeky. Too smart for your own good. I bet you were a girl who played with dolls and made sure each one was happy. Because you have to make sure that everyone is happy.”
A chill washes over me. My mouth has fallen open. How could he have known that? My voice is low when I admit, “My favorite dolls were called Mave and Socks. Socks was the scared one, and Mave would always cheer her up.”
“It was you cheering Socks up, not Mave. You used them both to process your own emotions of fear and confidence. ”
I cannot fathom how he could possibly know this about me. It feels like he’s seeing right into me and I don’t like it.
“Above all,” he says, “you just want to be accepted for who you are. You want comfort and safety, and someone who accepts you for everything you are.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Generic again.” But he is right. Everything he said was right.
Is he reading me? Does he also have that ability? I focus on him and try to connect to that feeling of a spark within me.
“What?” he asks when he notices how much I’m staring at him. “You want to have a go at me? Tell me about my childhood?”
A thrumming vibration reverberates through my mind as I feel a connection passing between us. I expect to hear a voice, like an inner thought, or feel an emotion, but there is none of that. He is surprisingly hard to tap into.
Then something reaches out to me. There. An inner thought. I think. It’s a flash of a feeling, but it hits me with great clarity. I straighten.
“Your name is not Tarin,” I say in surprise.
His face hardens, like a shield crashing down to protect him. His eyes are wide and it’s the first time I’ve seen him so shaken.
The word ‘How’ passes silently on his lips.
My danger senses kick in. He isn’t who he said he is? Who is this man?
In the distance, thunder rumbles in the sky and softly echoes around us .
I realize I shouldn’t push the matter because it might force him to take action. He might get violent or end up running away and leaving me here. I have to stay calm for now. I can’t show how afraid I am.
“Anyway, it doesn’t matter what name you go by. What matters is that we get off this mountain. Any suggestions?”
He regains his composure and replies, “It seems that the others went a good distance away before noticing we weren’t with them. If they have killed the boar, they may have chosen to return to the village with it.”
“They wouldn’t leave us!” I’m horrified at the thought.
“Well, they won’t care about coming back for me,” he says. “If they are out there now, looking for you, we would have heard them by now.”
A shiver shakes my shoulders. I hug myself, realizing how cold it is getting.
Tarin…or whatever his name is…studies the sky, and doesn’t seem to like what he’s seeing. I don’t like the growing dark clouds, and how cold it’s getting. Maybe I’m feeling the cold because I’m dripping wet.
“It will be night soon,” he says.
“Oh no,” I say. “Don’t say it.”
“We will have to find a place to stay for the night, and continue at first light.”
My shoulders sag. “You said it.”
“It isn’t ideal,” he says, “but we have no other choice at this point. We don’t want to be out here in full darkness. ”
“I’m not spending the night here alone with you,” I say stubbornly.
“We won’t be alone,” he says. “We will have the coyotes and vultures and snakes and a number of other creatures.” He grins at me.
I narrow my eyes at him, weighing my options. He’s right that we can’t be out here once it’s dark. We could try to leave the mountains before full night comes, but then we’d be out in the wilds with no cover, completely exposed to the elements.
I sigh and meet his gaze. “If we stay here tonight, I want something out of you first,” I say. “What is your real name?”
He regards me for a moment, his mouth a straight line. I see this isn’t easy for him.
“My name is Rourk,” he says.
I feel like the name is familiar, but I can’t be certain. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“No,” he says. “But please, keep this between us. It doesn’t matter who I am. Just know that I don’t mean you or your people any harm. None at all.”
“If it doesn’t matter, then why hide it?” I ask.
“I’ve been told many times by your people to allow you your privacy. That goes both ways.”
“Fine,” I grit out, but am not fully happy.
A cool breeze blows through the mountain path, causing me to shiver and hug myself. My teeth begin clattering. With the sun behind the mountain, the weather has shifted fairly quickly.
“Alright,” I finally say. “We can find shelter here for the night. ”
“Fantastic,” he says with a smirk. “I have some good scary stories.”
I roll my eyes and follow him through a descending slope in the rocks. It’s fairly steep and my boots don’t seem to hold well on the gravelly slope, so Tarin takes my hand and helps me down.
Rourk. Not Tarin. I have to get used to that. Why would he hide his name? Was he afraid we would know who he was? I can’t think of any Oathlander I know by name, other than its ruler, Arthur Bearon. Even his Fae Queen’s name is beyond me.
“You must have a strong magical lineage,” Rourk says as we search for a suitable resting place.
I continue hugging myself against the cold. “My father used to tell Leila and I how we were descended from a famous heroine. Someone from the old world. It was just a story, though. Or we thought it was, anyway. And when magic returned to the world, we found his stories to be true.”
“Leila has the same abilities as you?”
“My gifts came in the form of summoning light from my hands,” I say. “Same as my father. Leila, on the other hand, has shadows. And she can sometimes sense what a person is thinking or feeling.”
He turns to me. “Like you.”
I’m not sure if he truly knows that or is just testing me. I shake my head. “Not like me.”
“But that’s how you knew my name wasn’t Tarin?”
“I see how you respond to your own name,” I lie. “As though you’re not used to hearing it.”
I don’t meet his gaze as he watches me .
Not comfortable with the silence, I continue, “Leila has hardly used her ability, anyway. It mostly comes without her trying. She doesn’t like the idea of invading people’s privacy like that.”
I don’t tell him that Leila and I are unusual. It seems that everyone who received magic unlocked one major magical gift, while Leila and I both received two. The ability to summon light, or in her case, darkness, and to sense people’s thoughts.
I had been the first to show my light power to the public while Leila had managed to hide the fact that she could do the same with darkness from everyone but me. And when the villagers wondered why Leila had not attained light-summoning magic like our father and me, she had eventually admitted her ability to sense things in people’s minds, but hid the shadows she carried in her veins. I’m glad I was wise enough not to reveal my own mind-sensing abilities. I still don’t know how it works. I just get glimpses of feelings from others sometimes.
The light has faded rapidly around us, and the wind is picking up. Angry dark clouds are building overhead. We are less than a day away from the village, but this feels like we’re trapped in another world.
“Here we go,” Rourk says.
He points to a small crevasse in the rock, like a tiny cave, hidden by shrubs and gnarled weeds. The gap is long and narrow, small enough to barely fit one of us.
“You want us both to get in there?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“It’ll help us stay warm, at least,” he says, but looks just as doubtful as I am.
My heart begins to race.