Chapter 3 Tobias
Tobias
Raphael lay beside a fallen log, nestled in a grey woolen blanket as he slept—an unwanted guest comfortable in Tobias’s spot.
He’d been there for hours while Tobias watched, sharpening his sword for far longer than necessary.
Raphael’s brown skin and ecru tunic hadn’t a speck of grime or dirt, his long, angular face showed no sign of strain, and his black curls were well-groomed, cut short.
What a luxury to be in the middle of the woods without a single care.
If Raphael had one, Tobias couldn’t see it.
His mother finished tending to the horses—all three of them, since Raphael had joined the mix—and took root at Tobias’s side, hands on her hips. “Is he staying?”
Tobias snorted. “I highly doubt it.”
She eyed Raphael, assessing him just as Tobias had. “He’s from the Sovereign’s Tournament, isn’t he?”
“The Intellect,” Tobias confirmed. “That was his laurel.”
“So, he’s a killer.”
“He’s never killed anyone.”
“How did he survive, then?”
Raphael’s blood—Tobias could feel it, wet and sticky against his palms. Raphael wasn’t lying on the ground anymore. He was flailing in the water, red blooming around him, and Tobias was scooping him up, planting his hands over the deep punctures in his ribs.
“He had help.”
Leila sat paces away, blessing Naomi in silence.
Tobias may have pulled Raphael from that ravine those few weeks ago, but Leila was the one who had kept him alive.
She had spoken with Tobias the night prior, sharing stories of their visitor that left Tobias seething.
An agreement. That’s what She had called it, though it sounded more like a strong-arm tactic—Leila’s secret hidden in return for Raphael’s safety. Her life at risk for his spared.
Raphael stirred and yawned. The bastard was awake.
“What now?” Tobias’s mother asked.
Blood. Tobias felt his own, simmering in his veins.
“I’ll handle him.”
Tobias abandoned his spot, his thundering heart keeping time with his steps. Swiping it from its sheath, he pointed his sword at Raphael’s throat.
“Tobias!”
His mother’s cry rang out behind him, but he held firm. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right now,” he said.
Raphael raised his hands high. “Let me explain.”
“You threatened Her.”
“I had no choice.”
“You could’ve chosen not to threaten Her.”
“Tobias”—Leila rushed to his side, eyes darting between the two men—“the offense has long been forgotten.”
“Well, I’ve only just learned of it, so forgive me if I’m not quick to forget.”
Raphael stuttered, “I-I was fighting for my life—”
“So was She.” Tobias pressed the sharpened steel against Raphael’s flesh. “Then you tied Her hands. Betrayed Her. Do you realize the danger you put upon Her? She could’ve died—”
“I didn’t know!” Raphael spat. “I didn’t know, and I didn’t care, but I should have! I should have.” He fought to still himself, but his panting breaths failed to slow. “But you of all people can understand. You saw our circumstances. I did what I needed to survive, just as you did.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” Tobias said. “I kept to my principles. I was willing to die there, so long as I died a man of substance.”
“But you didn’t die, did you? Because you just so happened to fall in love with the actual Savior. But I didn’t fall for anyone. I didn’t have any divine assistance. I was alone.”
Silence filled the woods, save for Tobias’s heart beating in his ears. His fist tightened around the hilt of his sword.
“Only four men survived the tournament, all because of Her,” Raphael said. “I needed Her if I was to live. There was no other way. Now the tournament’s over, and I’ve come here to right my wrongs. The two of you saved my life. I’m here to help save yours.”
Tobias barked out a laugh. “That’s rich.”
“I’m telling the truth. I have my freedom. How do I benefit from joining your cause?”
“Tobias,” Leila said. He’d nearly forgotten She stood there, heedless of everything but his rage. Her gaze was probing, and She rested a delicate hand on his back. “Let’s at least listen to him. Please.”
Clenching his jaw, Tobias bit back his protests. “Explain yourself. Quickly.”
Raphael swallowed, the sword’s steel edge grazing his larynx.
“I acted selfishly. I saw an opportunity, and . . . I’m not proud.
But I was there, at the Culmination, in the crowd.
I saw what happened, and suddenly everything made sense.
” His eyes flitted to Leila. “The sovereign is trying to kill You, isn’t he? ”
Leila glanced at Tobias sidelong, then nodded.
“I should’ve seen it sooner, but I’m here now,” Raphael said. “And I can help. Really, I can.”
“You can help?” Tobias scoffed. “Is that right?”
“I found you, didn’t I? That means the sovereign can too. But I can stop that. I can keep you invisible.”
Kill him. The urge was fierce, but Leila grabbed Tobias’s wrist and squeezed it tight, cooling the fire in his veins.
“I don’t trust him.” Naomi’s voice rang out, her arms crossed as she observed from her spot on the ground. “Did he really threaten Leila in Her time of need? What kind of awful, slimy—”
“How?” Tobias said.
Raphael faltered. “Pardon?”
“How did you find us?”
“I’m a keeper at the archives. You don’t gain such a title without the proper skills.”
“Answer the question.”
“No.” Naomi spun toward Tobias. “You can’t be considering—”
“Not now.” Tobias’s gaze returned to Raphael, narrowing. “Answer the question.”
Raphael nodded, then winced as his skin caught against the blade. “We’ll start with the Culmination. I was certain you wouldn’t stay close to the palace. It was easy to assume Leila would use Her grey magic—”
“Grey magic?” Tobias said.
“Yes. The grey cloud.”
“Shadow walking,” Leila corrected.
Raphael furrowed his brow. “Shadow walking?”
“That’s what it’s called.”
“Grey magic makes far more sense.”
“Can you get on with your story?”
Raphael flinched at Tobias’s order, then cleared his throat. “I assumed She’d use Her shadow walking to get you as far from the palace as possible. Cities and other densely populated areas were clearly out of the question, given your fugitive status—”
“Fugitive status?” Tobias’s mother said, and he cringed. Goddammit, Raphael.
“Yes. Tobias is a fugitive. Has no one told you?”
“The story,” Tobias growled.
“Well, that left the countryside.” Raphael’s words came out swift and assured in the most aggravating way. “Five woodlands in particular seemed most promising, but the obvious choice was the Krios Woods. Hundreds of miles of solitude and coverage? It would be hard to resist.”
“You found us,” Tobias said. “In three days. In woods spanning hundreds of miles.”
“The southern trade post is just north of here. You may be the Artist, but you’re also a laborer. I know you’re not highborn. I figured you were familiar with the trade roots. Just had to drag myself through twenty or so miles of woods to find you. And I did, didn’t I?”
Tobias’s face burned. “Congratulations. Now you get to die.”
“How do you plan to help us?” Leila barked out the question, nails digging into Tobias’s wrist. “What can you offer to keep us unseen?”
Raphael glanced between them both. “Let me be your navigator. We need to fare east.”
“We?” Tobias spat.
“These woods will lead to the jungles of Ethyua. If we keep traveling in this direction, we’ll be arrested and hanged for illegally crossing their border.”
“Hanged?” Naomi’s expression hardened. “He’s lying. Ethyua is our ally.”
“They are. They’re also very conservative, particularly when it comes to seeking passage.” Raphael’s eyes panned to Leila. “You may be used to royal exceptions, but remember, You’re in hiding.”
One move, and another traitor would fall dead at Tobias’s feet, yet his arm remained steady, his sword still.
“I know where I stand,” Raphael said. “I’m not the strongest man nor skilled with a weapon.
But I’ve spent my life pursuing knowledge, and you can use that to your advantage.
” His brown eyes grew larger, lit with desperation.
“Let me help. I know I can be of value. And if I could find you, the sovereign’s army won’t be far behind. ”
Raphael’s pleading gaze bore through Tobias, but it was Leila’s stare that cut deep, burrowing straight through his skull and into his chaotic thoughts.
Tobias dropped his sword, yanking the collar of Raphael’s tunic and lurching him upright. “Even the slightest hint of betrayal, and I gut you.”
Raphael wavered. “No hope for friendship, I take it?”
“Friendship.” Tobias scoffed. “You’re funny, Raph.”
He released the man, letting him stagger through the dirt as Tobias marched away.
His mother was staring at him, and he thought to explain himself, but the impulse was fleeting.
Her opinion was already etched across her stony face, and he wasn’t sure he cared either way.
He walked past her and the campsite altogether until he and his rage were alone, shaded by towering trees.
Hesitant footsteps crunched behind him. He felt Leila before She came into view, Her gaze too earnest to bare. Resting his hands on his knees, he fought to still his breathing. “Don’t tell me I crossed a line. You would’ve done the same—”
“I know,” She said. “I’m not upset. Well, not with you.”
Tobias stood upright, finally looking Her in the eyes. She came closer with small, slow steps, as if She were approaching a wild beast. “You did the right thing,” She said. “Letting him help us.”
“You actually trust him?”
“I can count the number of people I trust on one hand—on three fingers, even. He’s not one of them.” Her expression softened. “But toward the end of the tournament, he seemed . . . I don’t know. Regretful, I suppose.”
“Oh, he regretted threatening You? What a kind heart.”
“Tobias—”
“He’s underhanded, conniving—”
“He’s also right,” She said. “I’m not particularly well-versed in trade routes, but he’s right about Ethyua’s borders, their policies. I imagine he’s right about many other things as well.”
Tobias ran his fingers through his hair, his thoughts piling on top of one another. “Fuck.”
She took his hands, pressing a kiss to each of his palms. “I’ll speak with him. Enlighten him of recent events. Only need-to-know information. I promise.”
Another soft kiss melted into his palm, Her lips a warm salve for his overwrought mind. He closed his eyes, taking in each quiet sensation—Her gentle touch, the floral scent of Her dark flowing hair, Her steady breathing. Then She pulled away, heading back to their campsite.
“Leila,” he called out. “Am I the first, second, or third finger?”
Her cheeky laughter lingered in the air as She disappeared, and the tiniest smile flickered across Tobias’s face—a second of joy, gone too soon. As soon as he trudged back to camp, all eyes flitted in his direction. He caught Raphael’s gaze, and his chest filled with fire.
Grounding himself, he took a seat at his sister’s side. “Time for your tonic,” he muttered, fussing with her satchel of balms and herbs. She was watching him, lips twisted in apparent judgment, and he sighed. “Don’t start.”
“I don’t trust him at all,” she said.
“Neither do I.”
“Then why’s he staying?”
“Because Leila needs an army, I’m a wanted man, and we need all the help we can get.”
Tobias tensed. Naomi’s gaze became intrusive, an inevitable question behind her eyes.
“You’re a fugitive,” she said.
Tobias steeled himself. “Apparently I’ve kidnapped The Savior and plan to end Her life and reign.”
Naomi looked out into the woods, quiet for slow-moving seconds that wound him tighter. “I knew they were searching for us,” she finally said. “I just didn’t expect them to lie like that.”
“Well, I assure you it’s exactly like Brontes to fabricate a steaming pile of shit and feed it to the masses.”
Tobias kept his eyes on the satchel, fumbling with tonics just to busy his hands. All the while the heat in his chest clawed up to his throat, singeing the back of his tongue.
“Can I ask you a question?”
Tobias locked his jaw. “You just did.”
“You killed three men in the tournament.”
“That wasn’t a question.”
“I’m asking for—”
“I did,” he said. “I killed them.”
Naomi sat still, then breathed in. “Would you do it again?”
“There’s a traitor in our camp and a madman on the throne, and this is your question?”
“I just need to know. If you could go back—if the situation were different—would you do it again?”
“Without a second thought.” The words tumbled forth of their own bidding. “I would kill them again, and I would relish their suffering.”
“Tobias—”
“Those three men were recruited to murder Leila. They killed innocent men. They killed Milo.” Something inside him was shaking, bottled and ready to burst. “I don’t regret what I’ve done. And if I ever get the opportunity, I’ll piss on their graves.”
“I don’t like hearing you like this.”
Shrugging, Tobias stood. “You asked.”
Blood on his hands. He was there again, flailing in the ravine, certain each breath would fill his lungs with water. Muscles taut, he walked back toward the woods, sinking deeper into the abyss with each step.